See myself in a long black car
With the windows up heads down
And the cops in front of me
With high beams holier than thou
They say that this life is just a lease from God
Yeah I'll start the party if the gates come off

Màiri: As the Scottish form of Mary, one could only find it ironic
that her name is oh so similar to a very well-known religious figure:
the Virgin Mary. Now religion played no role in her naming, but it
was a wacky coincidence that the girl would share the same name
as the young woman who went through an immaculate conception
around the same time this girl lost her virginity. It should also be
noted that the name is also shared with Mary, Queen of Scots.

Seòniad: Conveniently enough, there is no back story to this
part of her name. Her mother wanted to name her Joan, but figured
it was too plain so she made it more ethnic. At least that’s what
Màiri assumes. It’s not like it matters though, since she dropped the
middle name entirely in everything but official documents.

Graham: An Old English name that Màiri could not care less
about. It is her last name, but she rarely uses it as well, becoming
another blotch of ink on some official documents Màiri is sure she will
never look at. Since she believes that no other share her first name,
she feels that there is no point in saying her last name. In fact, her
last name is much more common than her first name.

Hair. Everyone always talks about the hair first. Because who
can resist that bird’s nest that rests on Màiri’s head? It’s not
as if each strand was untamable; in fact, Màiri wears her hair
like a badge. Because the messier it is, the more hits she had
the night before. The hair looks unnatural with the roots being
a much darker shade than the blonde that reach her rib cage.
There is speculation on whether her hair is natural or not,
something she will agree with or deny depending on her mood.
So no one really knows if her hair is her natural colour, only
what they know from what she has told them. But it’s not like
it matters anyway; when you’re having fun with her, who
cares what colour hair she has?

Her heart-shaped head is framed by her hair, with the area
of her eyes being the widest part. Màiri dislikes her head
shape because her face eventually comes down to one point:
the chin. Although the chin is more rounded out than a typical,
heart face shape, there is a slight indent in her chin, enough
for those classifying her to call it a butt chin. Again, not
prominent but enough to make the girl go crazy.

Her round green eyes are set close to her nose, a bit closer
than she would like. Even the green colour is not perfect
enough for her, always bordering on blue depending on the
light. She hates how large they are, how much they detract
the stares from other places she prefers others look at. But
she plays it off the best she can as she rims her eyes with
colour, darken the lashes, and make sure they are always
staring at the person in front of her, sometimes at the distance
to set an allure.

The nose is rather long and wide where the nostrils flare,
making it rather prominent and easy to make fun of. As a child,
she hated this feature, more so than her mouth, but as she
grew up, she learned to accept it for what it was. She also
learned that it was a feature that she had inherited from her
mother. While she does not think of her mother fondly, she still
does not mind having at least one characteristic from her,
even if it isn’t all that great of one.

The dark eyebrows that are darker than even her root colour
should be enough to prove that her hair colour is not natural,
but it doesn’t. They are set close to her eyes, the shape just a
slight curve, the product of an accident. The eyebrows were not
supposed to be so close; they weren’t supposed to even make
that shape. But being the girl Màiri is, she waves it off like it’s
no big deal if anyone comments on them. Otherwise, she just
tries to imagine that they really are perfect the way they are.

Her mouth is as large as it can be with a heart-shaped head,
meaning that it is relatively small. Her lips are thin and form
a strange semi-circle dome-like something or another that
causes many people to wonder if it was a deformity from
birth or was just how it was. She is most sensitive when it
comes to her mouth, knowing that some people actually want
to examine her to see if there was some new DNA sequence
that caused this “deformity”. However, it is also one of the
most used parts of her body so as long as it is in usage, it
cannot be judged.

One would think that being so wonderful that the voice of the
girl would be angelic. Instead, it seemed the voice box had
been stunted permanently before she reached puberty as her
voice is high-pitched, the result being much ridicule from
anyone who hears her talk. As a result, she tends to rely on
hand signals and would much rather everyone believes that
she uses her hand for everything.

The seemingly natural, clear skin is a product of hours of work.
After all, it takes much more effort to make someone beautiful
than to tear them down. So Màiri spends her time touching
up her skin, making sure that it is constantly smooth. Because
in its natural state, it is far from beautiful. The marks on her
skin are evidence of her growing years, when puberty struck
the hardest. Her skin being extremely sensitive easily suffers
from rashes and more scratches as she tries to rid of the pesky
feeling. Something else the makeup cannot hide is the blush
that strikes up on nearly every occasion, usually when she is
sensitive or embarrassed. Màiri feels that it detracts from the
supposed beauty and only puts on more cover-up, hoping that
no one could ever see the red that reaches to her ears.

Her arms are average length; with her hands, they reach to
about her upper thigh. The arm span is not important to Màiri
for as long as she has arms, she’s happy. Despite being a
piano player, her fingers are short and stubby, making it very
difficult for her to reach any pair of keys that are more than
an octave apart. She learns to improvise, though, using
whatever she has to accomplish her goal.

She holds extreme pride in her chest, where most pride
originates. But she does actually have pride in her chest, the
physical attribute. She likes to say that her chest is just
perfect. The obviously full-grown chest slopes down to an almost
flat stomach, bound by the slanted lines from her armpits to her
waist. From the back, it appears that her upper body forms the
shape of a trapezoid, with the scapulas slightly visible. She tries
to keep herself fit as possible when it comes to the upper half,
believing that all impressions are made from what can be seen
in that range. So she makes herself as presentable as possible.

It’s almost a requirement that all girls keep their legs long and
nicely-shaped. If they aren’t nicely-shaped, you make them that
way. If they aren’t long, you make them appear long. In Màiri’s
case, she doesn’t have to worry about adjustments. Her legs
are long and thin, partly due to her inability to feed herself well.
After all, learning to be self-sufficient can place a huge toll on a
person if they are too preoccupied with finding other ways to
survive.

Her overall body frame is thin, with a height of 5’7” and a weight
of 110. She is told that this was from her mother, one of the
most striking women in the area; Màiri could not care less. She
makes sure that her figure is at its best, needing it to “charm”
anyone who is susceptible. As much as she likes to preen and
think that her appearance is in her own control, part of the
reason why her weight is relatively low is because she constantly
forgets to eat. For the most part though, she controls as much
of her body as she can, believing that she can do whatever she
wishes because it is hers.

See myself at the pearly gates
Waiting all out for a room with a view
Go away but my tombstone say
How your past catches up with you
Never would I ever trade my blood for oil
I'll leave the game like Michael's "Blood on the Dancefloor"

To sum Màiri up, she is a party girl who refuses to understand
limits and boundaries. Alcohol consumption and substance abuse
are simply parts of her life. And if she wasn’t hanging out with either
of those two, she could almost always be found in the arms of
another person regardless of gender. Arms metaphorically speaking.
As she has found it, it is not absolutely necessary for her to be in
the actual arms of someone to accomplish what she needs to do.

While most people have a preference in who they are in a
relationship with, Màiri has absolutely no preference. If one looks
available, Màiri will latch on to that person and never let go until she
has her fill. There is no such thing as deep attraction in her mind,
giving her more options to choose from. If she had to label
herself, she would blurt out “bisexual”, but isn’t everyone technically
bisexual to begin with? Her view is that everyone either has a
strong preference for a person or they live by the true meaning of
pansexuality and take what they get.

That being said, she is completely ruthless. No morals, no sense
leads to a chaotic girl who just needs the attention and finds it by
exchanging favours. To her, there is nothing wrong with going
around and stroking another person, even if they were with
someone already. In fact, she likes it better when she is the
one who gets to wreck havoc. She does not concern herself with
pressing issues unless they are related to her personally. If they
don’t stand a chance on her “need to worry” list, there is a good
possibility that she won’t care about them at all.

Because there is no such thing as an “all-bad” person, it turns out
Màiri has a sensitive side as well. However, it does not get played
into effect much because the only time she will be sensitive is if
someone can appeal to her pathos really well. So kittens and
puppies and rainbows are definitely not in her category. Her
sensitivity deals with reactions and the emotions around her; she
reacts to every action and atmosphere, even when she tries to
suppress it. She hates this part to herself, refusing to believe that
there is a single part of her body that can inhibit her from living life
as it is.

The creativity in her is not only found in how she socializes with
everyone; there is also a part of her where she can express who
she is and what she is feeling through her fingers. She is no grand
master at the piano, but she enjoys being with the piano and
playing little tunes she picks up by ear. There are never any music
sheets in front of her when she is sitting at a piano; she cannot
read notes at all. All she knows how to do is move her fingers with
the music and hope that the next note will continue to carry the
tune.

Her connections with humanity are ones most people would be
ashamed to have. When she finds her next victim, she acts on their
weakness in order to charm them over to her. Which would be a
good thing if she felt anything back for them. Instead, these people
are merely her playthings, some items that are only for her
amusement. There is never any true satisfaction in what she does;
the beginning was fun but as time went by, each person seemed
duller and duller to the point that Màiri played the game because
she could, not because she was gaining anything out of it.

There might be many people who can easily associate her name
with some misgiving in their past but that by no means mean that
they are friends. In fact, most wish they never knew her to begin
with. One day she might come in, acknowledging them; the next
day, they’re thrown away like a piece of trash. It is because of her
lack of knowledge on commitment, that Màiri chooses not to get
close to anyone. If they try to understand her, it would be useless
as she would make sure she discards them the next day. Also, she
uses her “friends” often, getting them to do what she wants; it’s
the only way she ever can get what she wants.

As a young child, Màiri suffered “real-life” nightmares, most included
her mother coming back to murder her and her father. Some
included her father leaving her as well or being killed by a random
stranger. Because there was no one there to comfort her, every
nightmare piled on top of each other. With the weight of all her
nightmares, Màiri soon stepped up the ante with her nightmares,
leading to some that included a very violent death. Had a dream
interpreter had been there, they would have assumed that she was
predicting her own death. Soon, the nightmares grew so terrifying,
Màiri avoided sleep as much as possible, only allowing herself a few
hours so there would be no possibility of slipping into that dark
spiral. And it worked. The only side-effects were the typical sleep
deprivation symptoms most teenagers suffered from.

The troubled teen has no one to go to but the people who are
willing to take her in, meaning very few people are in her true life. If
anyone were to mention her name, disgust would be the first
reaction, then accompanied by hurt. Does this girl really care? Not
necessarily as she has grown accustomed to being ignored, being
hated on. After all, family life is described that way perfectly for her.
So what’s a few more handful of people? And if anyone dares to ask
her why she is the way she is, let the record show that she will
blame them rather than herself for her self-destructing attitude. But
it’s not really self-destructing if she’s having fun.

Hell is filled with broken dreams
And I know the doorman personally
Gemini mind all the time
Which satisfied until it hurts for me
Got this thing in my chest dying to get out
Is there a velvet rope up in the clouds?

It’s true when people say that any messed up child must be
due to some family problems. In Màiri’s case, a mother who
abandoned her and a father who does not know what to do
with a child led to years of neglect and caused bitter feelings
to build up. Her father was an intelligent man who knew the
answer to most scientific questions but was completely lost
when it came to anything else. One of Màiri’s bitter jokes is
that her father’s brain is so advanced, it skipped the natural
part. Needless to say, Màiri’s life revolved around keeping
herself surviving.

How her parents met in the first place deserves its own
paragraph. When a young woman by the name of Sarah
accidentally collided into a young man named Drew Graham,
there was an instant connection. The witty Sarah would try
to make conversation; the socially awkward Drew would
not know how to respond. Yet they found a way to become
closer and closer until bam! They got married. It was a shock
to both sides of the family, but the blow was lessened as
they took their time to settle down. The families would
eventually learn to forgive each other for their child’s
mistake.

The two would often cuddle together next to the warm
fireplace, constantly in the honeymoon phase and
neglecting the possibility of having a child. So imagine Sarah’s
rude surprise when she found out that she was in fact pregnant.
She continuously doubted the results, but as the fetus
continued growing, Sarah knew she could no longer doubt
it and instead grew scared. Drew tried to persuade Sarah
that everything was going to be okay but she refused to listen
to his gentle voice. In a way, she had been hoping that all
of the warped up worry would lead to a miscarriage, that
somehow she could get out of it. Instead, the stress of it
all led to the early birth of a small girl. She was so small, the
doctors were worried that there was nothing they could do
to save her. But hours of watching over her and making
sure that she was receiving whatever nutrients necessary to
keep her living paid off as she was finally delivered to her
parents. Drew looked at the baby adoringly; Sarah could not
even bear to take a glance at her daughter.

Sarah went through the natural custom of naming the baby,
choosing ethnic names she thought were cool or could
remember from past relatives she liked. Why she chose to
name the abomination after favourites was a question she
asked for a very long time, but that was what she did. So
the baby was given names very few people could
pronounce. It even took her father months to realise that
her name was pretty much a derivation of “Mary”.

Life at home was not much fun as Sarah constantly ignored
her daughter’s pleas, unhappy that the little child had ruined
her completely good life. If anyone tried to classify what
Sarah was going through, they would have called it postpartum
depression, something she would deny vehemently for she
believes that the only reason why she had sunk into the
depression was because that “monstrous little thing” had
come out of her. As a result, Sarah’s life began to spiral down
day by day, leading her to become a ball of rage and chaos.

It was on Màiri’s third birthday when her mother realised
she could no longer take it. Màiri vaguely remembers the day
but only knows that it was the day she turned three because
her mother had kissed her on the top of the head and
wished her happy birthday. It was the first and only sign of
affection her mother had ever given her, a tell tale sign that
something was wrong. Màiri’s father thought Sarah had accepted
what had happened and was finally coming to terms with
it three years later. What really happened was that after Sarah
fed her daughter for the last time, she brushed down her
clothes, stood up, and walked out of the door. And she never
came back.

In his mind, Drew thought he was doing the right thing by
not going after her, that the logical way to respond was to give
her time alone. He thought she would come back because
that was the way the patterns worked; everyone always came
back. Then he relied on motherly feelings to pull her back.
He knew she was not fond of the child, but because of
discoveries in the sciences, it had been established that
mothers had some special connection with their child. In a
last ditch effort, he relied on love, that her love for him would
bring her back. But three-year-old Màiri knew what her father
did not know: it was too late.

Màiri could see that her father would remain preoccupied
about her mother, so she started to take matters into her own
hands. As a five-year-old, she learned how to feed herself. It
was not difficult to reach for random, packaged foods and eat
from them. When she reached the age of 8, she was already
making sure that the house would still stand, that she was
still fed. She didn’t have to worry about the genius she called
father; he knew how to keep up with himself. She made sure
she went to school even if she did not enjoy what she was
learning. She took it upon herself to grow up and perhaps
that was the reason why she grew up so early.

Her attention span was horrible in class; she spent many years
in school to learn absolutely nothing. Everyone had expected
her to have a brilliant mind because of her father, but once she
managed to prove them wrong, they learned to back off. So
she spent her time making sure that she knew enough to pass,
but not enough that everyone would associate her with her
father. After all, she needed to build up a personality of her own,
not one that was inherited from her father.

Her first encounter with a piano occurred when she was visiting
a neighbour’s house at the age of seven. The piano was simple,
a mere wooden box with black and white keys. But to Màiri, it
was something new, something surprising. So she tested it out
and found that she enjoyed the clear notes that were emitted
from the simple box. Her fingers ran through a scale, something
that felt easy and natural to her. She would occasionally walk
to her neighbour’s house when they still pitied the girl and play
on the piano for at least an hour. Then her good girl attitude
turned bad and she was no longer invited to play the piano. As
a result, Màiri had to charm her way into being given one, charm
some more males to move the piano for her, and play while her
father was not home which was often as he was too busy
working on his own research project. She still had a restrictive
practice time, though, refusing to let anyone know that she
was passionate in anything but sleeping with as many people in
the district as possible.

Going through puberty was a painful experience for Màiri as
she found there was absolutely not female figure she could go
to for help. She originally considered asking her father for
help, but later reconsidered when she figured that he would
not be able to help her or know what she was saying. After
all, his mind was on learning more about science, not going
over what he already knew. So Màiri had to rely on textbook
knowledge to figure out what was going on with her body. Yet
there was so much a textbook could teach her. Research could
prove that the reason why she adopted a self-destructive
attitude was because she did not have the proper rearing
through her years of change.

As she had no one to guide her while her hormones were
raging, Màiri relied on her self-sufficient ability and learned
how to deal with them her own way. Combined with the
rebellious nature of a teen, Màiri was thrown into a world of
drugs, sex, and alcohol. There was no preference for which
as long as she managed to get her fix. She often relied on the
second in order to satisfy her needs, to control the hormones
that were raging inside. Her spiral began to deepen and get
out of control but by the time she realised what she had
thrown herself into, she could not pull out. So she continued
to ride the spiral of destruction, deciding that she would
worry about the end when it came.

Because she did not believe in deep attractions, every boy
and girl she had ever gone for were those she vaguely knew,
leading to many threats from displeased parents. Màiri’s
relationship with her father was so distant, he didn’t know
what was going on and was surprised by the many visits
from parents who had a problem with his daughter. He
would always find a way to calm them down, telling them that
he knew nothing. Because they had no substantial evidence,
they had to drop their argument and Màiri was free to do
whatever she pleased. She only remembered one time, the
first time that she experienced the new sensation.

In Màiri’s eyes, the Games was only an annual event. She was
always aware that she had the possibility of being entered
but figured that when the time came, then she would worry.
The only problem she has with the Games is that they seem
to hinder most people’s want for a fun time as they are too
absorbed about the safety of the district children sent to the
arena. She might have some sympathy and feel sad that
they died, but she takes no part in the grieving that residents
seem to have when they watch a tribute’s death.

I'll meet you up in heaven way in the back
So we can do what we do now in the black
I'll meet you up in heaven way in the back
So we can do what we do now in the black

muttations

Main: #aaaaaa
Speech: #888877
Thoughts: #dddddd
Other: #bbaa99
Lyrics: #93BF96

The one place she wishes she has
admittance to is a Club Called Heaven.

The eyes of the sixteen year old belong
to the woman named Elizabeth Nicole.

And we're dancing, and we're dancing around
And we're dancing, and we're dancing around
In a club called Heaven, halos tripping out
And we're dancing, in a club called Heaven
Never going down