"It took so long just to feel alright. . . "
Oh... I didn't see you there... You want me to tell you about myself? Uh, okay then... fifteen years ago, I was born to Deana Evelyn Sandoval. At birth, the woman named me, Victoria June Sandoval. If your that blind, I'm a girl, thank you very much. Enough yet? No?! Ugh, fine I'll tell you more... If your around me, I tend to act sarcastic, most likely. But I can be nice and sweet if we're good friends. I'll tell you everything if we're close enough, which nobody is. I have a short temper so it's easy to set me off. I'm very rebellious, and will do the opposite of what's asked just for the hell of it. I can be romantic, but only if you got close enough, which has never happened before. Antisocial, most definitely. You have to interest me. Rarely anybody does. I won't talk much to anyone. I'm probably gonna walk away. Unless you pull me back. I also have a large temper and can hold a grudge, but you wouldn't want me to use those against you, would you? Once I have my mind on something, I won't stop. Once I'm wrapped up in something, you can't get me out. I'm a pessimistic, since everything I thought before was shattered. I guess now I'm very isolated. I have a lot of mood swings and I'm very impatient.. You can see me, but I'll explain my apperance to you in words too. I'm about 5'7 and about one hundred and four pounds. I've been told I'm quite petite. I have dark brown to black hair, but I tend to change my hair color.
Woah! You want to know about my past?! Fine, if I tell it to you, will you stop bothering me? No?! Fine, I'll tell it to you anyways... Ha, well, my life isn't that great and it didn't start out so great either. I was born in a taxi during a snow storm. Apparently, my mom didn't know if I was girl or a boy and didn't bother checking, so she decided I was a boy. Which I wasn't and am not. She named me James, but after finding out I was a girl, she named me Victoria. Which was the name of her great aunt who died after being mauled by a bear. Nice choice in name for your baby girl, mom. My mom used to abuse me when I was about four and then on. But I cannot say anyone deserves what happened to her. One day, which started off normal as any other, I came home from school to find my mother nowhere in sight. I went into my closet to find something, but when I opened the doors, my mother and grandmother's bodies came tumbling down onto the ground. I fell back and screamed in horror. A note laid on top of my mother's chest. Not knowing who it was from wasn't a problem. Knowing it was their murderer was all the pain. I fought back the tears, even after what she put me through. There was another note, explaining how I just had to go to Camp Half-Blood and how my dad was a god, and I was a demigod. So after all that, I'm now here.
Some extras that might be handy to you... My weapon of chioce is swords, from long swords to daggers. I like rock/alternative music, horror movies, screaming, fire, burning, hammers, knives, heroes, and hiding spots. I dislike pink, stereotypes, preps, a typical slut, snobs, unneeded comebacks, pop stars, and "popular" music these days. There you go, now can you please leave me alone? Thanks. OH MY GODS! WHAT DO YOU WANT NOW?! Ohhhhh... Turns out that my godly parent is unknown at the moment... Bye Now...
NerdyParamoreLover
"Remembered how to put back the light in my eyes."
