Post by Brodie Aldwyn on May 2, 2007 19:58:49 GMT -5
Name:
Brodie Aldwyn
Nick Names:
Dodz.
Brodz.
Ally.
Aldy.
Been breathing for:
Seventeen long years.
Status:
Single
Likes::
~ Guitar.
~ Rock Music.
~ Bass.
~ Playing in bands.
~ Live music.
~ Listing to music.
~ Chocolate.
~ Alcohol.
~ Drugs.
~ Partying.
~ Staying out all night.
~ Drawing on walls.
~ Colour red.
~ Colour black.
~ Romeo And Juliet
Dislikes::
~ Dance music.
~ Family’s.
~ Pop singers.
~ Meat.
~ Climate change.
~ Politics.
~ The police.
~ Authority.
~ The care system.
~ The government.
~ Violence (the hypocrite)
~ Strawberries
~ People who stand still on stage.
Personality::
Brodie’s a fairly quiet girl inside the care home, she doesn’t like talking to the other kids there, there irritate her, she sees them as whiny kids with no life who are angry at the world, though so is Brodie really, she’s angry at the world for leaving her stuck in this god forsaken place, she’s angry at her parents for letting her come here, she’s angry at her father for what he did to her, her mother for what she did to herself and most importantly she hates the state for making her live here.
Inside the home she’s quiet, an introspective girl who will usually hide in her room, she doesn’t like to hang around with the other kids and she won’t socialise with the majority of them. Usually she can be found sitting in her room with her fifth hand bass where the D string doesn’t stay in tune for long – she bought it for $15 with her allowance money and has been teaching herself for four years how to play it.
Outside however it’s a different story. Brodie is a bully, she’ll bit at you before you get a chance to kick her and she won’t think twice before punching your lights out if she thinks you are dissing her. She is a good fighter, she always has had to be and she’s a fast runner as well; be it running from her father; from the cops; from he care workers; or from kids in the home.
She doesn’t get up set, well not in public; she hides in her room or goes out, finds somewhere to hand about and smokes a joint or two, has a few drinks and then sneaks back in to the care home at some ungodly hour. She is meant to be grounded until further notice but it’s not like she listens to that either. Well would you expect her to? Brodie doesn’t listen to much either, she’s not the sort of person to take instructions well - unless she respects you, and even then, those kind of people are few and far between.
Authority is something that Brodie does not respect at all. She hates people telling her what to do. She hates people thinking there better than her, and of course your not. At least not in her eyes. Though it takes a lot to win her respect and when you do, you have it for life. She’s not one to let people get away with hurting her ‘friends’ or insulting where she came from, even after what they did to her, they were her flesh and blood. A connection and its all she has to hang on to.
Mention something about her past and she’s likely to kick you in as well, so that’s a no go area – unless you feel brave. Brodie doesn’t talk about anything that has happened, she’s never told anyone about the sexual abuse she suffered at the hands of her father, and she’s never shown anyone the bruises. She doesn’t talk about her mother’s suicide either, there the two subjects she’s never dealt with, never talked about…in fact. To Brodie. They never happened.
Brief History::
Brodies father had never been the nicest of persons, he was the sort of boy who pulled butterflies wings off in the summer, so it was a wonder how he managed to find someone to marry him -maybe her mother bad been afraid to say no. Born to Billie and Mike Aldwyn the home was never the most loving of place. Brodie had only been a few months old when her father started abusing her, little things like being left in the crib all night with out being fed, being ignored, being left to cry all night and day with out any attention Brodie lived her first few years not understanding why her mother cried all the time.
As she grew in to her toddler years Brodie was forever walking in to things; a door; a table; a fist. It didn’t matter that she was only a few years old it was the start of a long, long repetitive routine in her house. Brodie became an expert liar, she could think of any excuse to cover up her fathers activities.
Then on her ninth birthday things took a dramatic turn, Brodie didn’t understand what had happened that night – but she does now – and to her it didn’t happen. None of the nights he spent in her bed pinning her down happened. To Brodie it was a bad dream even if that dream was still real. She doesn’t want to admit it.
One night her mother walked in, discovered what had been going on and of course she became a victim of her father as well. Shortly afterwards be it out of guilt or pain no one really knows Brodie found her mother passed out in the bathroom when she got home from school, covered in blood and dead. No note; no explanation.
Soon after social work stepped in and removed Brodie from her fathers care placing her in Terryton Children’s Home, where of course she lives now still plagued by her history and still finding a way to try and forget it all.
Current living arrangements::
Terryton Children’s Home
