| Biography |
[Dec. 24th, 2007|07:06 pm] |
Jayden Cory Lijewski
One night on December 30th in the year of 1991, in a vacant hospital room an infant cried out into the middle of the night. But no one was around to hear her cry. She fussed and whimpered in the dark, the only comfort of hers being a raggedy blanket that bore discolored patches, and oddly enough, a faded yellow duck sewn onto a corner of the blanket. After falling into a deep sleep, that following morning, a young doctor strolled into the room, stretching his arms out in attempt to wake up from his six hours of rest, spotted a small bundle on the floor. With brows knitted together in confusion, he bent down and peeked beneath the blanket, his eyes settling on a baby girl that wasn’t even a week old. His head whipped around in different directions, mentally noting that he was the only other person in the eerie hospital room. He returned his attention back to the baby, tilting his head to the side. “Why would anyone abandon such a cute little thing like you out here?” He asked out loud as he scooped her up and cradled her in his arms. This section of the hospital isn’t even where they handle child birth - so how did she end up here, he wondered to himself. The small infant cuddled up to the doctor’s chest, enjoying every second of the newly acquired attention she was receiving. He swayed from side to side with her in his arms as he began to leave the room, and the hospital in general, with no intention of letting anyone know that he found a young child, afraid that who ever dumped her there would come back and possibly do it again.
After that one night, the doctor, whom we’ll call Christopher, took the child into his care. He remodeled the guest room of his two bedroom apartment into a nursery with yellows and oranges splashed onto every object that resided in there - the unnaturally bright theme having come from the lack of creativity and inspiration hitting in the face once he noticed the faded sewn-on duck on the infant’s blanket. Christopher was a wealthy, young man that was in his mid-twenties, and also quite easy on the eyes with his shaggy, dishwater blonde hair that was always swept to the side, and his clear blue eyes which most women melted into once they gazed into them. But one thing about Christopher was that no matter how many women were down on their knees, begging to be his girlfriend, he’d simply refuse. It wasn’t that none of them weren’t pretty, it was just that women didn’t appeal to him as much as his kind. If you haven’t guessed by now, Christopher is gay - a very beautiful gay man who has a soft spot for kids.
As for the little girl, she’s called Jayden, and she considers Christopher as her father. He was always there for the days she felt sick, or just times she felt uncomfortable about something. Christopher was her safe harbor and she could tell him anything without being judged or treated differently about the subject. Though when Christopher invited her to go to a dinner party at a friends’ home, she would never reject it, but she wasn’t too thrilled to go to it either. Jayden was more on the shy side. She was never good at meeting new people or making any friends. It wasn’t that she was weird or odd, it was that she was afraid to approach anyone, thinking that they may think that she is weird.
During recess at school, she’d usually sit on a swing at the empty swing set, her shoes barely grazing the dirt beneath her. All she knew about the swings always being unoccupied was that the swings weren’t something eleven year olds did anymore - it was all about the competition at the jungle gym and monkey bars. She didn’t follow trend though, it wasn’t her nature to follow what people were doing. If she wasn’t found near the swings, she would be sitting under the shade of a giant oak tree which stood at the outskirts of the school playground, either gazing up at the clouds that were slowly floating through the sky, or she’d be writing words that could be formed together and produce a potential song.
Music. It was something she’s always loved. Though there were certain genres that she adored, it was still a wide variety. You could probably pick up on the types of music she enjoyed. If you sat in a desk behind her during class, you could hear a barely audible hum of a song from bands that aren’t heard from many people - ranging from The Police and Cher to Savage Garden and Modest Mouse, and then there’s the occasional “hardcore/emo” rock bands like Aiden and From First to Last. No matter what it was, as long as it had a reasonable rhythm and melody to it, she would approve of it as good music. Even though it‘s not all about the rhythm that makes it good - it’s the meaning of the lyrics that she cares about the most. At the age of eleven, on her own, she broke down the song “Roxanne” and figured out in a matter of seconds that it was about stalking. Even though that fact is quite disturbing, it’s the truth.
Jayden is hard to describe in only a matter of words. She’s shy, sweet-natured, kind. Generous, caring, graceful, faithful, loyal. Curious, smart, confused, over-thinker. Pretty, calm, understanding. But she’s not just those listed adjectives, she’s more than that. She doesn’t have many friends, but she’d do anything in the world for them, no matter how difficult it is. She puts others before her, and isn’t selfish or greedy. Even though she was raised in more than thousands of dollars, she was never dependent on Christopher to provide her anything - she always worked for what she needed by working at the local store and staying after school, teaching students how to play acoustic guitar and even using popular songs - with guitars used to perform it - as a way to get them to learn. She has a kind and gentle heart, never wanting to hurt anyone in any way. She’d rather put herself through pain than let others suffer. Despite being shy, she attempts to help people out, even through little things like opening doors for them or help them pick up an item they dropped. She was raised to treat people by the inside and not by the outside, and always following the golden - treat others the way that you would want to be treated. One day, all that changed.
It was a regular day, a Thursday, and the same daily ritual. Slamming down on the sleep button on the alarm clock, crawling out of bed, change and adjust her appearance, and brush her hair and teeth. After eating breakfast that consisted of toasted waffles with a glass of milk, she bid goodbye to Christopher before she took the bus to school. The rest of the day went by as normal, until fourth period rolled by. She was on her way to her locker, Biology book and notebooks in hand, as she slithered her way through the oncoming freshmen, sophomores, juniors, and seniors. But before she could reach her locker, something stopped her dead in her tracks. A hand pressed against her back near her shoulder blade, causing her to freeze in place. As it felt like hours passed by, she didn’t feel the pressure on her back any longer, but before doing anything else, her mind and body was soon taken over by unconsciousness.
Once able to wake up from her deep slumber, she found herself in her bedroom with the same old brightly colored walls. She couldn’t recall of the events that Thursday, just the part where she felt the pressure of someone’s hand pressed against her back and passing out. She shuddered at the thought of the incident as if it were a bad dream, but she couldn’t help but feel a tingling sensation located near her shoulder blade. She reached behind to touch the spot that was tingling to only feel a shape that felt like it was embedded into her skin, and oddly enough, felt colder than the rest of her body. She stood up from her bed and walked over to her tall mirror that hung on her closet door. She raised up the back of her shirt enough to reveal her shoulder blade, and on that shoulder blade, a light blue crescent moon, that resembled a tattoo, was exposed. She stared at the odd symbol, shaking her head back and forth, repeating “No. It can’t be it… No. It can’t be” over and over again to herself. That symbol only meant one thing - she was Marked. In the eyes of others, she was now considered a vampyre. And those that were Marked were sent to a place where all the others that were Marked resided, the House of Night.
After finding enough strength within herself, she told Christopher what happened to her and what she now had to do. She was mentally beating herself up. The fact that she was now a vampyre meant to her that she was officially a freak and Christopher wouldn’t want to be near her. But once she felt his comforting arms around her, she was surprised. Asking him repeatedly about why he didn’t consider her a monster only made him chuckle. He wasn’t upset that she was a vampyre, just that she had to attend to the House of Night from now on was what upset him, but he understood that it was for her own good.
That was almost a year ago, a couple of weeks after she turned fifteen. Today, she remains at the age of fifteen but will shortly turn sixteen on December 31. Even though Christopher wasn’t able to find out when Jayden was born, he decided that her birthday shall be on the day that he found her, New Years’ Eve. During her stay at the House of Night, she finds that’s her new life and it’s who she shall be for the rest of her life, and music will always be a part of her - music, songwriting, singing, and playing the guitar and piano, and the occasional drums. |
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