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Welcome To St. B's!
St. Benedict's Home for the Mentally Unfit and Addicted
St. Benedict's was originally an asylum established in the early 1850s. It was named after the patron saint of mental illnesses. As the times changed so did St. B's. Slowly over the years, St. B's became less like an asylum and more like a rehab center. The administration began accepting residents with server addictions between the ages of 20 and 30. It became much less church oriented, but still keeps its name out of respect to its history. These days there's a lot more to the halls of St. Benedict's than just junkies and psychos ... what exactly goes on is something you'll just have to find out on your own.
Tunes!
RP Information
Mandatory Reads
C-Box
Staff
You may contact the staff through the private message link in their profiles.
Admins
TIN
 
BRANDY
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Credits
Skin © Bibbity of the InvisionFree Skin Zone.
Side-bar © Roswenth
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 baby's on fire! [OPEN], better throw her in the water.
| Arabella Hughs |
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Newbie
Group: Members
Posts: 8
Member No.: 27
Joined: 25-September 08
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It was a cold day, a terribly cold day, Arabella decided as she stepped into the brisk air of the grounds from the blistering heat of her 'home'. She smiled weakly to herself as she walked away from the building her insides churning in disgust at the sign of affection spread across her lips. She knew better by now, though, than to sit with the scowl on her face that should really be there. She would much rather fake a grin than be sent to talk to one of the doctors. She really wasn't in the mood to describe her beliefs at great detail, just to be told they were utter nonsense, she also wasn't in the mood to fight for the right to have her own beliefs. For a second, the scowl graced her features but she quickly smoothed it away, tugging on the thick woolen scarf around her neck, the black contrasting starkly with the creamy white of her skin. She rolled her eyes, at the calls from the halls as she reached towards the loose strands of hair peeping out of her hat, she tucked them away so that only her black fringe was peeping out. Her jacket was tugged on and then soothed over the striped jumper which lay beneath it and finally, she looked up, her piercing eyes searching over the grounds.
She rolled her eyes once more, she had never really liked the gardens. They were usually full of all of the cheery people that everybody seemed to love, the ones that had been blessed with a loving person to dream them up. Of course, if they were here then the person couldn't actually be loved as dearly as those whom were tucked safely away in their large cottages all over the world. Or could they? For a moment, Arabella was a little taken aback, her eyes went slightly wider and her breath caught in her throat. People had nightmares, didn't they? Everybody had nightmares, whether it was as a child or as an older adult nightmares were a fairly normal occurence. Perhaps, this was all a nightmare? No, she shook her head, the frown returning as she quickened her pace heading away from the building that she had stayed in for under a year. That wasn't true, her person wasn't having a nightmare, they were simply cruel.
Arabella sniffed, scrunching her nose up and dipping her thin hands into the deep pockets of her jacket. She walked on, her pace getting faster and faster until she was jogging and then running and finally sprinting away from the building towards the wooden area near to it that she had spent many a day in. Where she despised the garden, she loved this section. The area where she could slip into her own mind and not worry about being bothered. When she reached it she flung herself into the scarce wooden patch and then to a tree where she gulped gently trying to stop herself from being brought to tears. She gulped down the crisp air, filling her lungs with it and exhaling in turn. She regained her composure fairly quickly after that, her bright eyes flicked around in search of another who might have seen her small... lapse. She brought her hands around herself and held on.
God, this was fucked up. She wasn't meant to feel this way, she never had and she never wanted to be. Her frown slipped back onto her face and she finally gave up on the happy demenour she had adopted only moments before. This was not a good day and therefore, she would not claim it to be one. She ached to hit somebody, tell them how worthless they really were. Most of all, she longed for the bitter sweet taste of whisky, or the rush of cocaine through her whole body or even for the thrill that came with sex which she had missed dreadfully in the short space between now and her last, precious time. It was as she thought this, that a snap drew her out of the seething hatred which had washed over her tall frame and her head swivelled round to the source of the sound. "Who's there?" She snapped, her upper lip curling slightly.
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Talk to Tin if you want to add a song. <3
