Sakura Moriarty

[Dewey]

Sakura Moriarty

Birthdate: July 10, 1988
Height: 5'6
Weight: 130 lbs
Eye color: pale green/grey
Hair color: white blonde
Race: Scottish
Occupation: Mercenary
Friends: Ara, Nicolas
Enemies: foes

Once upon a time, Sakura was the sweetest girl you'd ever meet. She was always enthusiastic, always polite, and always filled with giggles. Like any little girl, she loved playing with her dolls (hand crafted from thread spools by her mother) and their giant house, hosting tea parties with stuffed animals, dressing up, reading picture books, and any number of other girly things. These hobbies she often shared with her best friend Ara Levenworth, who lived next door for nearly ten years. They'd spend hours on end together. Until one day, Ara moved on, and Sakura was left to face middle and high school alone. It was devastating. No longer an extrovert, she eventually was considered by peers as 'the quiet girl'--which basically translated to outcast. Then in 10th grade, Sakura's father became absent. By 11th grade, her mother--drugged up on antidepressants-- was 'just there'.

Sakura, by 16 years old, was involved with the wrong crowd. But they provided friendship and community, and both were things she desperately craved. So she ignored the drugs and the alcohol, because she was finally receiving attention. And when her boyfriend sexually assaulted her on his prom night, she hid in her house for months, only to rejoin the gang because once you were a scorpion, you always were a scorpion. But after 16 months, Sakura had had enough. Bottling in all that anger eventually culminated on the night of her 17th birthday, when she shot dead all the men in her life who had ever destroyed her or her friends. She assumed leadership of the gang, and knew she'd have to protect the girls left behind. When they came to her because their pimp had busted their lip, or because their father had done them wrong, or because a boyfriend had taken their innocence away, Sakura was there to play 'angel of death'. They came to call her the 'Black Widow'. Eventually she realized this was justice in its purest form, and with every murder, she became more calloused, jaded, and apathetic.

She started working for Nicolas Capritti as a mercenary (though she originally came to him for protection, when friends of those she'd murdered started to hunt her down). She doesn't speak much, trusts only two people in the world (Nicolas and Ara), and has grown from a shy starved-for-attention teenager to a skillful and deadly assassin. Her only memory from childhood is the single wood-spool doll she still keeps propped up on her desk, sitting against a framed picture of Ara and herself when they held a lemonade stand at age 7.

[Dewey]

Last night, it was like old times again. Nicolas, Ara, and me. Except Michel wasn't there. Or Araxie, or Daemon, or Juliana, or Tobias. But the entire group wasn't neccessary. In fact, Nicolas and me could've done the job ourselves. But I had mentioned Ara, and her boredom with her current assignment, and he suggested I contact her and invite her to join us. So I did, and she did. It was nice. I've missed Ara, I have to admit. Even though I was upset when she took that agency up on their full-time job offer, I'm pretty much over it. It's not like she rubs it in our face or anything, and she still wants to be involved with us. She hasn't become all 'high and mighty'. Maybe I was just being a brat when I gave her a hard time about it. Insensitive, or stupid, really. I mean, come on...who among us wouldn't take a full time job offer with the secret service agency of France? Okay, so I probably wouldn't... but that's just the pride talking. They insulted my intelligence just because I don't have a G.E.D. Whatever. Ara probably is better suited for the job. She's been doing this longer than I have anyway...

Which is why I was glad she came with us last night. After Nicolas, there's no one I trust more. I can walk into a hit, and so long as Ara's by my side, I know nothing's going to happen to me. And I'm the same way with her. I'd send a bullet through someone's skull first before I let them have the upper hand against her. We make a good team. And with Nicolas, we make an even better one.

Now there's Alain. That's right. The prince of France, formerly known as the crown prince of France. Ara's his bodyguard, and she told me last night that he has all these abilities. Now, Nicolas isn't exactly in want. He's a professional. He's like.. the badass of assassins. Anyway.. I kind of invited Alain along. I have to talk to Nicolas about it. I'm sure he has an assignment we can all do. He always does. But trust me, he's going to love this Alain kid. Do you know how many hits we could do in a single night with Alain's help? This is going to be great.

[Dewey]

June 23, 2001

Ara's moving! This can't be happening! This is the last year of middle school, and then there's high school! I can't start high school by myself. I have no one else but Ara. We've been together since kindergarten. I don't understand why she has to leave! Why can't she stay with us? Why did Mr. Capritti send her away to another relative? She doesn't even want to go! This isn't fair. This isn't fair at all! Adults never listen. They don't care about your life. They just want to ruin it. What is Ara supposed to do over there? She doesn't know anyone in Arcadia. I told her we should make all these plans to run away, but... It's just been an all around horrible day. I know 8th grade and high school are going to be a nightmare. I don't have any other friends. Ara and I are practically sisters. She means everything to me. She's my best friend, in all the world. No one could possibly replace her. She knows all my secrets, and I know hers. My room will feel so empty without her to share it with. Who will I pass notes in class to? Who will I eat lunch with? Who will I talk about my fears and dreams and hopes with? And poor Ara! What is she supposed to do in Arcadia, starting from scratch all over again! I can't believe this is happening. I wish things were different.


September 15, 2001

Today in Literature class, we had to write a composition about our best friend, and what the relationship means to us. Of course, I thought about Ara, and I wrote about her. It made me sad, though, and I asked for a hallway pass to the bathroom just so I could lock myself up in a stall and cry. I miss her. It hasn't even been two months, and I miss her so much. Things haven't been the same at school. I have no one to hang out with. Everyone's separated into their little cliques. The popular kids, the jocks, the cheerleaders, the goth's, the theatre kids, the band kids, the nerds... And then there's just me. It's so weird. How did this happen? I don't want to tell Ara about it on the phone, because I don't want her to feel bad about moving. She didn't want to, anyway. I just hope Mr. Capritti comes back soon, so that Ara can come back as well.


December 26, 2001

Christmas is over. It went by too quickly! I can't believe school starts back up in little over a week. I wish I could catch some kind of disease that would keep me quarantined or on house arrest. Then I wouldn't have to go back to school. I hate it. I can't even begin to say how much I hate it. People have started to make fun of me. I was hoping they wouldn't notice that I don't have any friends and always sit and eat by myself. I was really hoping that. But that was stupid to think. They don't really say anything to my face, but I feel their stares on me. They think I'm an outcast, and too quiet. It's easy for them to say, when they have their best friends right there with them. I only get to talk to mine once a day, and over the phone, and not for too long. I sent Ara one of those dolls for Christmas. The wooden spool dolls my mom used to make for us when we were little. For old time's sake, I guess. She sent me a puzzle; it's a photograph of a Scottish castle. I'm going to start working on it later. The holidays have felt weird without Ara around. I never thought Christmas could be depressing, but it has been. I need to be strong like Ara, though. Maybe she'll come back before high school starts.


May 10, 2002

Today is Ara's 14th birthday! Which means two things. First, it's reason to celebrate! I sent her a birthday card and I hope she received it in time! Inside the card, I taped down a necklace for her. It's one of those 'friends forever' necklaces. She has the friends charm, and I have the forever one. I hope she likes it. I know she's not into girly things as much anymore, but when I saw it I wanted to get it--as much for me as for her. It's been so long since we talked on the phone. I'm not sure when the calls stopped. Maybe we both just became so busy. I'll call her tonight, though. I don't want her to think I forgot her big day. Secondly, it being May 10th means something else that's important. SCHOOL IS ALMOST OVER! I can't believe I actually made it through an entire grade by myself, but I did, and I'm alive to tell the tale.


July 9, 2002

Tomorrow I turn 14. Wow, 14 years seems like a long time, doesn't it? I know it's not much compared to my grandparents or anything, but still. My mom wanted to take me shopping for school. SCHOOL! Is she out of her mind? No one thinks about school in the middle of summer! Especially not high school! I'm not excited at all. Don't fool yourself. She said there would be plenty of opportunities to make new friends, since 3 or 4 middle schools send their 8th graders to Chesapeake High, but...apparently she's forgotten how hard it is to make those friends in the first place. Especially when you're already an outcast. I invited Ara over for tomorrow, for ice cream and cake and just to hang out, but I'm not sure if she'll be able to make it. We've fallen out of the habit of calling each other. Maybe she has a summer job? I don't know. Things definitely are changing between us, and that kind of scares me. Are we growing apart?


October 3, 2002

So this is high school. You know, when you watch those high school movies, you pretty much are terrified of what lies ahead. It's like being in the wild, constantly having to watch your back for predators. How do they expect teenagers to 'eagerly anticipate' these years? The girls here are... mean. They talk about their friends behind their backs. They cheat on their boyfriends. They curse out their enemies, get into cat fights once a week, and pretty much reign over the school. The guys are no better. At least the popular ones. They pick on everyone who's not in their crowd. They beat up other guys, too. I mean, really beat them up. This school is parolled by officers. More than the average high school. Do the news stations know where kids are getting an education these days?


January 6, 2003

I didn't get a chance to write my New Year Resolutions because the holidays have been hectic. Or were hectic. My parents and I went to Scotland to visit some family. I think that was a mistake. They've been fighting a lot lately, and this trip (where none of us had 'me' time) just...propelled each of us out of control. I think we had a bit too much of each other. We were so irritable and impatient and annoyed. But my parents? They were practically at each other's throats. It was embarassing for me. I wish they wouldn't argue in front of me. Not only is it tiring, but I think it's unprofessional on their pair. Unprofessional..ha. I say that as if marriage is a career. Maybe it should be. Maybe people would take it more seriously if it were. Anyway, I hope their New Year Resolution was to stop their fighting. It's hard to believe they were actually crazy about each other at one time. My Resolution is simple. I only have one: 'Maybe, just maybe, make at least one new friend.' Ara came to mind today for the first time in a long while. I wonder how she's doing...


February 14, 2003

Valentine's Day is perhaps the most annoying holiday on the face of the planet. I hate seeing the red and pink heart-shaped balloons, the stuffed animals, the candy, and couples making out in the hallway. Really. Who wants to witness you shove your tongue down your boyfriend's throat? This day is overrated and commercialized. You want to know what else is? The Spring Fling Dance coming up in April. And then Senior Prom. Both just excuses for teenagers to get under the bedsheets with their significant other (or, significant others, considering some of the girls who go to this school) My dad didn't get my mom anything for Valentine's Day and they're fighting again. What did she honestly expect? She's done nothing but knock him down every day the past two weeks. And he's returned the favor. I wish they would stop. I wish they could go to marriage counseling or something and just stop acting so immature. I hate coming home. I hate going to school even more, but I even hate coming home now. I can't find any peace anywhere, and I'm starting to get angry. Maybe I should just run away. Maybe they'd open their eyes to what they're doing to me if I ran away.

[Dewey]

May 29, 2003

I forgot to send Ara something for her birthday. It was 19 days ago! I wonder if she's upset... I wonder if she even remembers who I am.. *sighs* I have this picture of us on my desk. It's framed in this stupid, childish picture frame...you know, with pink hearts, and teddy bears, and girly things. It's of us when we were 7. Wow, eight years ago. But anyway, it was toward the end of July and we were hosting our very own lemonade stand.. when I found the picture today (it was among some shoeboxes under the bed), I couldn't help but laugh a little, and then for some reason, my eyes got misty. But I didn't cry. I don't know why. It's almost as if I couldn't cry. The tears wouldn't come. Things were so simple back then, weren't they? The biggest thing I had to worry about was having cookies for my tea party with Ara. Now I have to worry about avoiding the Untouchables at school. Otherwise, it can mean my reputation. I didn't know girls could be so heartless and vicious. They remind me of a pack of wolves. I can almost see their blood-stained fangs when they open their mouths to curse someone out for brushing up against them in the hall. But this isn't even the most of my worries, either. No. My mom pulled me aside a few days ago. She said something along the lines of: "Sometimes people who loved each other find out they need more space, they need to do their own thing, they're better off having separate lives. It has nothing to do with you, Sakura. It's not your fault at all. Your father and I still care about each other, and we'll have joint custody. But we both think this is for the best." Yeah, well what about what I think? Why did no one ask about my opinion? Why does no one care about how this is ruining my life?


August 17, 2003

Tenth grade has begun. And with it has come a few changes. I'm now a 'woman' in the physical sense of the word. Talk about late bloomer. I'm already fifteen. I knew girls who were wearing bra's back in 6th grade. My mom burst into tears about it. I didn't know they could get so emotional at the announcement that you'll now be menstruating once a month. Maybe they were tears of grief. Maybe she just felt bad about the PMS that lies ahead for me. It's not just that, though. This past summer, my body's really been working over time to achieve the traditional 'hourglass' figure. Forget training bra's. I'm already fitted into a 34B. I hope I don't go past that. This semester I have to take P.E., which means locker room changes in front of girls I don't even know. I'm a very private person, and as you can imagine, this kind of freaks me out. Why does high school do this to people? Boys have started to look at me, too. I feel as if I should be allowed to carry around a razor for times like these, for times like puberty. The fact that I'm changing means boys are changing, too. They no longer thing I have cooties. Now they want to get in bed with me. I'm disgusted, really. I wouldn't mind being flat-chested and comely for the rest of my life if it meant I'd never have to hear a boy's stupid pick up line.


November 20, 2003

This is my first Thanksgiving holiday without my dad. He just...he left today. They've been talking about a divorce for months, but I never thought it would come to this. I thought it was all talk, and I suppose foolishly so. Because he's gone now. And it doesn't look like he's coming back. He left without a note, without word... Why would he do that? And as much as mom talks about how she's fine without him, and how he can go to hell for doing this to us, I know she's hurting inside, too. How could she not be? I know I am.


March 4, 2004

My mom's on anti-depressants. I knew this would happen. When my dad left, he took a piece of her with him. It's almost as if her body's just an empty shell. There's nothing left inside of her. There's no personality, no heart, no spirit. We don't have conversations any more. I come home from school to find her sitting in front of a blank TV. Does she even know how to turn it on anymore? If it is on, it's turned to a mind-numbing channel.. like the home shopping network, or the weather channel, or one of those talk shows where 12 year old prostitutes are the guests. She doesn't go to work anymore. She got laid off because she was making too many mistakes. She hardly moves. She's either sleeping in her bedroom, or sitting and staring into space in the living room. I do all the cleaning and cooking and talking. I'm going to have to get a job soon, too. There was an eviction warning on our door. If we don't cough up money we owe by the end of this month, we're going to have to find a new home. I won't let that happen to us, though. I'm not going to be homeless.


March 9, 2004

A guidance counselor called me out of class today. She was concerned about me. She said my teachers are concerned as well. My grades in every class except Art are dropping to a painful low. I'm talking about D's and F's. What do they expect? My father's abandoned us, and my mother's practically a mental case over it. I'm now the parent in my own house and I'm not even sixteen yet. Mr. Peters gave me detention for reading the newspaper in class while he was lecturing. Well forgive me, Mr. Peters, but I was actually browsing the Classified section in hopes of finding a 'Help Wanted' ad. I'm not really concerned about the French Revolution. I'm concerned about putting food on the table, and keeping a roof over my head. And I apologize, Mrs. Bernette, that I was daydreaming in class at the precise moment you asked me a question about Romeo & Juliet. I was busy thinking about my own tragic life, wondering if my father will ever come home. To make a long story short, I told this guidance counselor that my workload is too much for me right now in light of the hell that's become my life. So, we decided I should be transferred out of honors classes into regular classes, and hopefully that will help.


March 14, 2004

Being demoted from Honors to regular classes is an embarassing but very rewarding experience. I thought the kids in my new classes would make jokes about how apparently I'm not a genius after all, but they were actually pretty welcoming. In fact, they laughed about how I'll have an easy life now. No, about how I'll have a life, period. If only they knew. I met a few people who seemed somewhat okay, though. Mainly this boy named Evan, and his friends: Andrea, Neil, Danny, and Lauryn. They even invited me to study with them, since we have a quiz coming up. The teacher's not going to hold it against me, but I told her I would take it anyway. I'm having a hard time at home, but it doesn't mean I'm a slacker. I'm a hard worker. I don't take hand outs.


March 21, 2004

Evan and his friends are not bad. I honestly didn't think I'd have a good time. I'm not really a sociable person. They were easy-going, though, and I didn't feel the need to pretend to be something I'm not. In fact, I felt comfortable enough to ask them if they'd heard about any employment openings in the neighborhood. Lauryn told me her parents run a small ethnic grocery story (Colombian or something) if I cared to grance them with some Scottish service. I don't mind bagging groceries for minimum wage. It requires little effort on my behalf, and will let me focus on homework, or at least training. Andrea's on cross country, and encouraged me to try out for the team. So I've been doing some early morning sprints before catching the bus to school. I never really considered myself out of shape, but running is taking a lot out of me. I like it, though. I like pushing myself to be stronger. It's like a discipline. It helps you build up endurance. Well anyway, I asked Lauryn if there were any way I could get a cash advance from her parents, considering my eviction situation (I confided in her because...bearing this weight on my shoulders alone is becoming painful). She told me not to worry about it, that she would loan me the money from her own savings. What sophomore has that kind of money in their savings? In any case, I'm not going to question my good luck.

[Dewey]

March 30, 2004

Andrea and I have been going to a gym after school the past few days to practice for cross country. I enjoy running the treadmill. When I run, I feel as if it clears up my mind. I can organize my thoughts because nothing is distracting me. It's good. It's nice to have a steady pace in your life at least at some point in the day. I also like lifting weights, and doing exercises on the big blue yoga ball theyhave here. Andrea wanted to sign up for a pilates class with me, but I don't have the money for registration. I made up an excuse, though. I know friendship's all about giving and taking, but I'm not quite ready to give all the details of my life just yet to all of them. Besides, something about Andrea threw me off guard a few days ago. When she took off her hoodie to start working out, I saw a scorpion tattoo on her right shoulder blade. When I asked her about it, she only told me it was a secret, something between her and the others. I felt excluded, and it made me angry for no apparent reason. Of course they have secrets. They've been friends long before I came onto the scene. Still, I want to know what the scorpion stands for, and to tell you the truth, I want one myself.


April 5, 2004

True to her word, Lauryn loaned me the money I needed to pay not only February's rent, but March as well. I told her I'm indebted to her beyond words, but she was so casual about our transaction. She only said, "Don't worry about it. Just don't pass me up when I need something one day, okay?" My mom hasn't been doing any better. She doesn't even know I've completely assumed her role in the household, though to call it a household would be to overestimate the feeling of family we have established here. Homework's all right. I honestly lost interest in school. All that holds my attention is Art and Gym. I asked Lauryn about the scorpion tattoo. She showed me her own (identical to Andrea's) and she told me Evan might reveal all to me if he felt I was a sure fit into the group. I was a little disappointed at the realization they don't consider me 'apart of the group' just yet. Is this some kind of trial friendship?


April 20, 2004

Evan's asked me to his senior prom. I'm not sure how I feel about it. I have to admit I am attracted to him. He's one of the few good looking guys at Chesapeake High. I suppose it just caught me off guard. Evan's a senior, and I'm a sophomore. We only met because of an elective class, where they mix grade levels. What about Andrea, or Lauryn, or the scores of other girls he seems to know?Why me? Is it because we've gotten to know each other better working part time at the same restaurant? (Lauryn's parents ended up turning me down since I'm not fluent in Spanish; I don't blame them, really) We even have inside jokes, and he sits next to me during lunch all the time at 'our' table (there's about 8 of us, in total.) The others are convinced it's a sign of good things to come. I feel as if they know something I don't. Is this my initiation into their secret scorpion society? I really hope so. Because it would be nice to actually belong to a community, to belong to someone.


May 2, 2004 -written on hotel stationary

Evan's senior prom was last night. I... God. Oh, God. This...didn't happen to me. Oh, God, why. I'm...I'm sitting in the bathroom floor of a hotel room...and I've been crying since 8 a.m. this morning, when Evan left. It's well past noon, and I only know that because housekeeping knocked on the door a few minutes ago, and said we're supposed to be checked out already. I...I don't know what got a hold of me, but I snapped. I.. I snapped, I screamed at this lady, I cursed her out and told her I'd check out when I'm f-ing ready to check out. Oh, God... oh God, oh God, oh God...this cannot be happening. This couldn't have happened...I didn't want it. I didn't want that. I never wanted to be... I wanted.. I just wanted friends. I just wanted someone who needed me. Something to belong to. And.. God, why... I screamed and I cried and I begged him to stop... but he forced...he.. oh God...

[Dewey]

July 27, 2004

Evan graduated from Chesapeake High in May. I suppose that means we've all graduated, even those of us who were just sophomores months ago. Life pauses for someone like Evan. His friends worship him as if he's some god. But me? I see past his charisma, right to the slime and the filth. I never told anyone about prom night. I never felt any reason to. They knew. They all knew it was coming. Perhaps it wasn't even the first time it happened. I feel as if they laughed about it as well. As if it was a joke to them, my being taken like that. I hate them for that. I hate them so much it hurts. I feel betrayed. I feel backstabbed. Why didn't Andrea tell me? Why didn't Lauryn? Did it happen to them as well? Was this the price I had to pay just to wear the tattoo of a scorpion on my right shoulder? I had to trade in the one thing left me? But despite all this anger, I can only blame myself. For being so weak. And being weak even now. Because as much as I might despise my newfound community, I know that I can't live without them.


July 31, 2004

I haven't been home since the beginning of June. I've given up on taking care of my mom. She wasn't there for me when a boy destroyed the last of my innocence. She was in an alternate reality, high on those anti-depressants, most likely hallucinating. I finally decided an end needed to be put to this. I don't care if she's evicted. I don't care if she winds up homeless. WE NEVER HAD A HOME TO BEGIN WITH! Not even when my dad was around! That was a war zone, and I'm through! I'm tired of the memories. It's interesting to think about, though. Back in May, I never left my house. I was too scared. I was horrified, really. If Andrea and Lauryn hadn't coaxed me out reassuringly, I probably would've starved to death in my room. They got me out. They're my real family. Now we all live together, in this house in the inner-city. It's never what I had in mind for my future, but this is where I belong. This is my community now.


September 8, 2004

Some days, I wake up, and I miss school. It's funny how things work like that, isn't it? There was a time when I abhorred the mere idea of public education, the school system, and those of us who were puppets to our teachers. But now, living in this home turned brothel/crack-house, I realize maybe I had it good back then. Maybe I failed to see the beauty in textbooks and homework and class projects. I would do anything to have it back. Instead, here I am, and there aren't any exit signs anywhere. Evan won't have any of that. I'm practically his slave. He forces me to do things with him that I don't want to do at night. He mistakes me for a whore and uses me for public displays of affection when his friends are around. He calls me names and mistreats me. He's nothing like the Evan I knew. Then again, perhaps the Evan I knew was the culprit. We've all grown up ahead of our time. Andrea's pregnant, and screams about how Danny is the father. Danny won't have any of it. He slaps her around and tells her to "shut the f- up" before he beats the baby out of her. Last night, she came to me with a busted lip and black eye. Lauryn has become a sort of caricature. She doesn't work at her parents' grocery store anymore. Now she works on 33rd Street; she walks up and down this street every night, and comes home with money that's only stolen from her by Evan and the guys, so that they can satiate their obsession with marijuana.


September 19, 2004

There was a drive by shooting last night, and Neil caught a stray bullet. In his heart. He's dead. Neil is dead. He was only nineteen years old. This isn't supposed to be how things are. You're not supposed to bury teenagers. It's not right. There's something not right about it. And seeing him in a bodybag, being rolled away on a stretcher...my head was spinning. I had to sit down on the sidewalk curb before I passed out. Andrea and Lauryn were a mess. I've never seen them throw such tantrums. I don't want to say I'm apathetic to his death. Maybe I'm just... I don't know. Maybe I've seen Neil get into the backseat of a car with 15-year old prostitues one too many times.


October 22, 2004

Andrea came to me in hysterics earlier tonight. Danny and her had gotten into another argument. He beat her (as has become custom), and when she tried to jab a broken beer glass at him, something triggered in the recesses of Danny's temper. He punched her so hard, she was knocked out. Andrea wants to leave all this. She told me she's been living under Evan and Danny's shadows since she was 12 years old, and she just can't take it anymore. She wants to go to Puerto Rico and live with her aunt; she wants to raise her baby in a safe environment, not this sinkhole we've chosen. I decided to stand up to Evan, and demand he show the women in our group a bit more respect, because we're becoming increasinly tired of being treated like sh!t. The thing is, I chose the worst time possible. I chose a time when Evan was drunk, playing poker with his friends. You want to know what his response was? He slapped me so hard my lip started bleeding, and his exact words were: "A woman should know her place isn't to speak around guys." Bastard.


November 6, 2004

Lauryn went out a few nights ago to uphold her usual routine of walking up and down 33rd Street. But she never came back. Today on the news, there was a story about a 17-year old girl found dead in an older man's bedroom. She had been stabbed repeatedly. Her face was unidentifiable, they said. Their only lead at the moment was her black hair, height and stature, and the black scorpion tattoo on her right shoulder.


December 15, 2004

I bought an early Christmas gift for myself. An 8MM. It's become obvious that I need to protect the girls in this house. They won't protect themselves. I remember Ara wanted to learn to use the gun when she was thirteen. Was her life spinning out of control then like mine now is?


February 8, 2005

I never thought I would be that girl. But finally, my time came. Evan, drunk or high or most likely both, finally took his anger out on me. He beat me. As if I was a two-cent whore. I've been in bed for weeks. Andrea's been nursing me to health, when she should be resting herself. The baby will be coming any week now. But when I look into her face, I no longer see a future, or a hope. She's given up. She's been caught up with the drugs and the alcohol. When her baby is born, it'll have so many complications I don't think it'll live past a week. Look at what you've done to us, Evan. I'm not worried, though. You have yours coming.


March 26, 2005

Andrea gave birth to a little girl. And that little girl died in two weeks. She had heart defects, nerve cell death, a brain not fully developed, facial deformities, was underweight...I knew it was going to happen. I knew it. Andrea was traumatized. She wouldn't even talk to me when she was released from the hospital (or when she ran away from the hospital, really). She finally did get away from all this, though. Just not in the way I expected. Because the last thing I expected was to walk into the house, and find Andrea hanging from the ceiling.


July 10, 2005

It was a night just like any ordinary night. I'm the oldest girl in the house these days. The rest are no more than 15. I was sitting on Evan's lap (against my will) at the poker table, second-hand smoking and wishing the cigarettes would hurry up and kill him. Danny was there, seemingly unaffected by his girlfriend's suicide. Unaffected by his baby daughter's death. And I hated him for that. I wanted to strangle him, to scream at him and ask him if he felt any shame, any regret, anything! But I didn't, because I already knew the answer. As I sat there, I thought about the years behind us. All we've been through as a family, as a gang of scorpions. All our up's and down's. I never recorded the good times, not because they were few (though they were), but because they never fulfilled me in the way I needed fulfillment. They never completed me, they never gave me closure. They didn't bring my father back, and they didn't restore sanity to my mother. So why did I stay? And that's when I realized it's the same reason Lauryn, and Andrea, and all the other girls stayed. Because there never was an option. There never was an escape plan. We sold our souls to this lifestyle, and there was only one way to get it back.

The boys started laughing like hyenas, this flicker of domination in their eyes as they talked about all the women they'd bedded, and had slapped around, and had beat, and had 'set in place'. They talked about making girls cry out for mercy, about making them bleed, about getting them high just to take from them what was most valuable. I sat in silence for what seemed an eternity. I sat, with eyes downcast, and didn't say a single word. Until Evan spoke, and told them about his senior prom night, and how he'd been ruling over my life ever since. He told them how he forced me, about his disgusting sadistic behavior, how I was the perfect girl because I knew never to speak unless spoken to.

And that's when, after sixteen months of hell, I finally had enough. I bolted to my feet, pulled the gun from a garter under my skirt, and shot them all dead. I shot them in the face--that was for Lauryn, who's natural beauty was never appreciated, much less looked at. I shot them in the heart--that was for Andrea's love being the chains that enslaved her. I took no vengeance for myself. Being in the presence of their dead bodies was enough justice for me.

[Dewey]

Well, the cat's out of the proverbial f-ing bag. Everyone in my small circle knows it now. I'm Samantha Marner. Who's Samantha Marner, you ask? One paper called her 'Auvernha's Online Sweetheart', "a quick-witted, button-nosed tomboy with a flair for theatrics and a down to earth charisma that instantly made you feel like you were in your best friend's bedroom, trading secrets about life's woes". Hey, I don't write it. But that's honestly what Samantha Marner was to people. I never expected the video blog to get a hold of this much attention. It was just something to fool around with when I was bored.

I screwed it up, though. My shot at a normal life. Because let's face it, nothing about my life is or ever was normal. Dropped out of high school to hang out with a bunch of crackheads. Maybe Samantha Marner is how I figured myself turning out had my parents stayed together, had I not gone to some slum of a high school, and had I managed all four years until graduation. A caricature of an alter-ego maybe. An outlet to just...be someone else, instead of who I am. Sakura Moriarty, a trained assassin. I'm a 20-year old murderer. Couldn't I just be someone else in my spare time?

But like I said, I blew it. Bored as usual, I decided to throw in a gun-handling scene. Yeah, that didn't go over too well with the media. The entire footage was on CNN, MSNBC, NBC, FOX...all major newspapers and news websites, every possible talk show and radio show...Even America got a hold of the hysteria. And you know what that means? That means that Nicolas got a hold of the hysteria. And that is bad news. I've gotten in trouble with Nicolas before, trust me. I mean, since day one, really, considering I broke into his house. But he was pretty f-ing pissed this time around. And with good reason. I don't blame him! I don't know what I was thinking. I wasn't thinking. I put him at risk, and I put myself at risk. It was a stupid thing I did.

It was all cleared up, of course. Araxie and Daemon helped with that. But there's one... elephant kind of left in the room. See, 'Samantha Marner' was kind of like an exagerration of my own life. When Ara ditched us for faucon du soir, Samantha ranted about best friend Allie leaving McDonald's for Burger King. When Araxie left for classes at Ecole du Louvre, Samantha lamented close friends Anna and Drake dropping out of high school to pursue the Parisian night life. And the worst of it all? Nick Caruso. The college-aged boy next door who Samantha wanted but knew she couldn't have.

A.K.A. Nicolas Capritti. So you can only imagine just hwo f-ing awkward it's been living in Nicolas's house now. I can't even look at him! I can't look him in the eyes at all. If we're talking, I just preoccupy myself with something else. I stay out of the house as much as possible during the day. I've picked up some shifts at 'The Scrap Yard' ((the arts & crafts store where she works ha)) and I try not get home until late. And if we have to ride to a hit together, I just bring my ipod and listen to music on our way there. I can't belive I've screwed this up. Maybe things will go back to normal. I really hope so. It's not like I ever thought anything would happen between us. He's just.. he's always been there, you know? He's one of my closest friends. I mean, yeah, I wish I could be a few years older.. So..whatever. The drama's over now and I just hope we can get past it soon.

[Dewey]

Aug. 3, 07

Typical to Ara Levenworth, she has dropped out of the sky onto my doorstep with an assignment she knows I won't turn down. Then again, have I ever turned her down? Nicolas is involved, too. It will be like old times. I honestly miss those days. Most of my hits since I started working for Nicolas (though even before then) have been independent. I guess in some way I prefer it. Working alone, I mean. It lets you think. You can hear your thoughts. You can hear your adrenaline and the blood pumping in your head. You can hear your heart, and feel the pulse in your wrist. But, of course, the problem is you don't have someone watching your back. At least when I went on assignments with Ara, there was someone beside me who could catch things I might have missed, who would protect me if I fell, who could help me make sense of something. Like they say, two heads are better than one, right?

So tonight is the big assignment. Ara received it from France's version of the CIA. I didn't know she'd taken it professional. Although I guess I can't be surprised. She told me she'd even put in a word for me if I wanted. I don't know about that. I said they probably prefer their agents 'refined'. I don't think she understood what I really meant by that, because how could she? I never really told her about my life between the ages of 15 and 17. I didn't mean formal training or education. Ara does her job because it's her job, and she doesn't question that. I do my job because I take something out of it... pleasure? Or maybe just justice. Maybe my desire for justice is never satisfied, and maybe it never will be. And yet I keep at this, because with each gunshot, I somehow feel avenged. Does the government really want someone like that? Someone who makes a vendetta out of their assignment?

[Dewey]

Aug. 6, 07

The assignment was a success, but it fell through in a lot of ways, too. None of us expected to deal with more than just security. Neither did Ara, and because of that, there really wasn't a backup plan. Except for the universal Plan B, of course. Guns. Lots of guns, as it turned out, too. We were caught in open gunfire with someone who kidnapped the crown prince of France. Ara was upset about it. I feel bad because she really thought about everything. She's always detailed and organized. I'd trust her with my life. This could've happened to anyone, and I hope she realizes that, because it's true. It could've happened to me, and it could've happened to Nicolas, if it was our own personal assignment. I hope this agency isn't taking too much on her, because none of us need the extra stress. But I think she likes it. She's always done well under pressure, and she was even ready to accept another assignment from them. Now we're heading to Beijing China to shut down another one of these triple helix operations there. I hope it doesn't turn out like the last one. At least I have Ara and Nicolas at my side, though. In fact, Ara and I are even undercover as sisters. She has to bleach her hair to match my color and everything. It's funny how things work out, isn't it?


((and age 7))

Ara and I have a lemonade stand today!! We made five whole dollars, and we're so excited about it. We wanted to sell a lot so we could be rich and Nicolas bought a lot of lemonade to help because he wanted us to make a lot of money, too. He said he wanted us to envess it but I don't know what that means!! Ara and I are going to use the money to buy toys, though, and to see Pocahontas because it just came out. We both want to be Pocahontas for Halloween and we're going to be! I can't wait until we buy stuff at the store. We're going to get beads and little kits to make bracelets and make each other bracelets for Christmas! Because that's what best friends do and that's what we are! We even made a secret handshake because we're going to ask my dad and Nicolas to build us a treehouse that will be our secret palace! But you can't get in if you don't know the secret handshake! Oh! And we're going to get kittens, too, who are going to be best friends. Mine is going to be named Belle, and she'll have a yellow ribbon for a collar and a bell. And she'll be white with blue eyes. I'm so happy Nicolas bought a lot of lemonade. He's so nice. He's so tall, too, and he's not like the boys in our class who have cooties. Yuck! Nicolas is a lot nicer and he's really smart. I think I'm going to marry him one day!

[Dewey]

((age 17))

Safety. I haven't felt it in a long time. I would've fogotten what it felt like, too, if it weren't for last night. I came back to my old neighborhood. Not because I really wanted to, but because I had to. Kayla told me Ruben and the Cobra's were fed up with my sh!t, and weren't going to take it anymore. They were going to shoot me dead the second they could find me. I had to leave. I've never felt so...in fear for my life before. Every block, I'd look over my shoulder, expecting to see someone behind me with a gun in my face. I really thought my next stop would be in a morgue. And when I got back to my house, only to find another family live there? Well, that was all kinds of depressing, really. To see a family sitting in your dining room, talking between your walls, laughing under your roof. When did my mom even move? Well, as if I should be expected to know. I left all that behind, didn't I? Of course she moved on with her life. Dad dragged her down, and then I did. There's only so much a woman can take. I guess I should know that best of all.

I wasn't sure if Nicolas Capritti still lived next door. When Ara was still in the neighborhood, I'd see him every day. When she went to another relative's, though, I didn't really see him as often. He kind of kept to himself as always, and I figured there was really no point to go and say hi. Anyway, I wasn't sure if he still lived in that house, but since it looked empty at the time, I decided I would break in. I just needed a place to hide out in for abotu 30 minutes! The cops were on my back (f-ing Ruben decided to get back at me by giving word to the station about the recent killings). So I did break in. Through a back window. And I snuck into Ara's room and hid under her bed and just waited.

That's when I saw the shoes. That's when I pretty much freaked out. I tried to stay as quiet as possible, but those d@mn allergies got the better of me. I sneezed. He heard. A little scuffle broke out. And then he recognized me! IT WAS NICOLAS. OH THANK GOD IT WAS NICOLAS. My first reaction was just to hug him. Well, to make a long story short, Nicolas was amazing. He gave me something to eat (two servings, even), loaned me clothes to wear, let me use his bathroom, let me even sleep in his room (I didn't want to be alone! If you knew how many girls went to bed in their own room only to wake up in the middle of the night with a gunshot in their stomach because of some jealous boyfriend or pissed off pimp, you'd have the same feelings).

But the best part? Apparently, Nicolas is...well, a 'professional' killer. He kills people. Like me. People who deserve that kind of justice. People who deserve to be six feet under and rotting. He kills them just like I've killed a few people myself. And he does it FOR A LIVING. You should see his basement! Who knew! Nicolas had tons of guns down there and all kinds of weapons. So now I have a professional killer at my back. He said we'd have each other's back and each other's trust, and you have no idea how safe I feel right now. Ruben, Black D, Big Phil, Sammy, the Cobra's....yeah, they have their guns and their brass knuckles and their knives....but me? I have Nicolas Capritti. A professional killer.

[Dewey]

Aug. 26, 07

China was not a success. At all. This organization Ara's working for, this secret CIA, decided to ship us all out to China. Then, when we get there, two of its agents decide Nicolas and I are only capable of being the lookout. It was Ara's assignment, though! She should've been the one to call the shots. Not these two who knew nothing about Nicolas' or my capabilities. As far as they know, we probably could've rescued the prince better and faster than they did. People have this stupid tendency to think that just because you didn't get a formal education, it must mean you think below the average human being. I consider myself just as trained as Ara is. She went to school? Well good for her. I went to the school for hard knocks, like the say. My education was on the streets, and if you ask me, those lessons are tougher. People get shot dead, cut up, stabbed, and all kinds of things like that. I'm even back to living with Nicolas now, because living on your own is just too scary when people have a hit out for your name. People still want vengeance. It's like I'll have to be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life.

[Dewey]

Talk about a lover's spat. Damn. Word to the wise: never be in the same place as Ara and Alain again. Because those two argue like a f-ing married couple. So funny. Araxie and Daemon would've eaten that sh!t up if they were there. I couldn't believe it. I mean, I joke all the time about it, but it's not like I seriously think Ara and Alain are engaged, or that they like each other (at least I know Ara doesn't return any feelings he might have). But then last night? All my previous thoughts on the matter were just blown out the window. It was wicked crazy. I don'teven know where to begin. Ara wetting those napkins and handing them to him, taking care of him and all. Alain pissing and moaning about how Ara's priorities were out of line if she wanted to meet with Charles instead of stay with him. Calling insults at each other back and forth. What. A. Show! I hope the two of them see it coming, too. I've never seen Ara so worried like when Alain was missing. Yeah, it probably had more to do with getting the job right (knowing her), and settling some score with that Charles guy. But still. I wonder, you know? Wonder if there isn't something more than a job on the line for her when it comes to Alain...

[Dewey]

D@mn.

So much has happened. Well.. good news first, I guess.

Yesterday was Rae's birthday (Michel's girlfriend). I don't really know her that well, but everyone seems to like her and she seems nice. I guess it's a nice change in a house full of serious people. I don't think I've ever seen Michel smile, but he smiles a lot when Rae's around I've noticed, so...well, good for him. They make a nice couple, and he seems happy, so I'm happy for him. Apparently, they're going to Greece for like two weeks. What the f-? His birthday gift is a getaway to Greece? D@mn. What must his Christmas presents be like?

Araxie and Daemon on the other hand... those two are a pain in the @ss. I think they really believe their purpose in life is to be matchmakers. They want to hook me up with a Chinese food delivery guy? Are you kidding me?

Then there's Ara and Alain. I know. I'm pretty shocked they even make the list, too. But Ara and I were hangin out the other day and she told me Alain ahd proposed. What. The. F- ? He proposed? To Ara? I figured he was head over heels for her, but...has he learned anything about Ara for the past... d@mn, how long has she been his bodyguard now? A year?

I honestly don't know what Ara's going to do. She called me earlier today wanting to talk to me. Ara's not really a relationship type of person. I mean, I feel bad for Alain and all, but... that's just how it is. She probably feels like it'd just throw her life out of balance.

Lastly, I kind of had a run in with someone from my past this past week. I don't want to go into details, but he handed me a card with a dragon insignia on it and said some guy's after me. What? Why? Are these people seriously still out for blood? It happened 3 years ago! What if he's like... Nicolas and Michel? Some private contractor, you know? I feel as scared as I did at 17, even though I have Nicolas and Michel. I don't know what this guy's capable of...

[Dewey]

Well, it looks like today Ara's going to be a heartbreaker. *smirks* Who would've seen this coming, you know? Ha. Oh, princey... I can't believe she won't give me the diamond ring, though. Well, I can believe it, I guess...but don't just put it in a sock drawer! Buy a house with it! We could have something as nice as Michel's probably, HIGH security...

I hope I was able to help her sort out this sh!t last night. It's not like I've neccessarily had the best luck with relationships, either, so there wasn't much I could say. I just told her to consider the questions people usually consider when they have feelings for someone. Does he make you happy? Do you like being around him? Does he make you laugh or smile? Does he make you want to be a better person... blah blah f-ing blah.

Anyway, if you ask me, I think Ara's just overwhelmed with the whole situation. It's new, and she doesn't have any idea how to deal with it. Even if she did return his feelings, she'd still probably turn him down ha. Whatever. Alain will get over it. And if he cares as much about her as he went on about, then he'll understand... he'll probably throw a f-ing temper tantrum, knowing him, but...that's royalty for you.

I think I'm making progress with this whole dragon tattoo business. I found some guy named Jamie who apparently had the design in his portfolio when he applied to this parlor by my job. This isn't your ordinary tattoo parlor, though, and I have no idea why some hustler from the projects would go there...how did he even get hired? He could've just copied the design from a website, if you ask me. I just can't see how he'd be involved in all this sh!t. I know Ara and Nicolas would help me out if I asked, but I kind of want to do this myself. I'm not going to live in fear like I did at 17. I'm done with this sh!t.

[Dewey]

Thanksgiving!

I'm not usually big on celebrating the holidays, but if this will help me take my mind off the people after me, off the vacant lot next door where my house once stood, off that stupid dragon tattoo and the guy somewhere out there who bears it.... If Thanksgiving will take my mind off all this crap, then hey, I'm going to jump at the chance to celebrate. I even got a recipe book from Borders for Nicolas. Except Nicolas apparently doesn't cook. Well, not like that's a surprise. I guess I thought he'd magically know just because he's Sicilian. Not so. And he suggested going to Michel's. Which I guess is all right, but... I kind of want to have my own. We go to Michel's all the time for the holidays. And it's nothing against Michel, really, but...maybe if we have it on this block, on stupid Hollow Ridge, maybe... maybe it'd be as if my parents were next door. Maybe I could pretend, for just one evening, that they're still living across the street, together, enjoying their own Thanksgiving dinner, happy and carefree, and oblivious to the fact that they're daughter is watching them, making sure they're okay, that they're not hurt by gangs or death threats. Even if it's just pretending, and I'm just kidding myself... still. Despite all the sh!t that's been going on lately, I'm still tied to that house. Even if it's not even standing any more. Even if I just see dirt and dead grass when I pass by it, there are still memories there. Even if it was foreclosed, I can still think about the times when it wasn't. Even if it was vacant, I can still think about the furniture we had, our things, our bedrooms, our shabby little kitchen table with the missing leg that had to be propped up with phonebooks... I'm surprised to se myself still alive these days. I feel like I have to watch my back at every corner. So, for Thanksgiving, is it too much to just... pretend things are different?