WRITLEY, SOFIA DOROTHY

[SOFIA DOROTHY WRITLEY]

SOFIA DOROTHY WRITLEY

sixteen, high school, junior, straight, jaded, sammi ryann, insecure

[/i][/font][/blockquote][/blockquote][/center]

“Oh God, wait, are we starting? Sorry, I’ve never done this type of interview. Um, okay, my name is Sofia Dorothy Writley. I know, I know, the Dorothy part is bad. My mom must have had a few cocktails before filling out the birth certificate. No need to talk about it. Anyways, call me Sofi Fia or Sof or whatever. But not Sofia.”

“Alright, where do you want me to start? The beginning? The very beginning? Is this really necessary? Whatever, I was born in London, England, but we moved by the time I was four. I then spent another nine years in a small town in Tennessee. It wasn’t until I was thirteen that my dad’s job finally, and a little randomly, settled us here in Virginia Beach. My dad was a partner at this really big law firm based there. For some reason, he still had to travel a lot though. I missed him a lot as a kid. I always looked up to him, you know?”

“On the other hand, there’s my mother. We don’t really get along. Jenny was the perfect child and after her, no matter what I did, I could never live up to my mom’s standards. Jenny? She’s my older sister. She studied at Yale and is now some type of brilliant doctor. Picture a brunette, gorgeous blue-green eyes, perfect body, intelligent, graceful, confident. That’s her. Now imagine trying to live up to that. I could just never get it right.”

“Matt? Oh, right. He’s my older brother, and the polar opposite of Jenny. He’s a firefighter here. I actually live in his place. He was always a partier, a player, the bane of his teacher’s existence. I adore him. He’s always looked out for me, and when we were younger he always encouraged me to rebel a little. I wonder if he ever regrets that…”

“Where… Oh. Right. The beginning. I don’t remember much of England, just scattered shards of memories. Tennessee was suffocating. Everyone knew everything. It was like walking on a tight rope and everyone in town was ready to watch me fall. Over the years, my mom and my relationship started to heat up. At first, I tripped all over myself trying to please her. I played soccer, I ran, I did gymnastics, I sang, I danced, I acted, I did cheerleading, I learned countless instruments, I strove to win every award. It was a good thing I’m an insomniac because I have no idea how I ever got everything done. Nothing made her take notice. I was only a kid, but I could sense my mother’s chilly, unimpressed, not at all motherly manner. And it killed me. As time wore on, we bickered more and more. And I started to realize that I could go to the moon and back, and it would never impress her.”

“By the time we got here, the tension between us was palpable. My dad was gone too much to play referee and I didn’t think I could take it anymore. I begged to go to this really prestigious boarding school. I finally got the okay as long as, in my mother’s words, I could even get in. So for my freshman year, I flew halfway across the world to try to escape. Honestly? I think it was just a little too late for distance to fix the damage. The summer before I left was the worst yet. And I think that’s when I finally decided that another method needed to be tried out. Obviously I would never be good enough. So I guess I just kind of… quit.”

“I really just wanted to get her attention. I… went crazy. I drank, I smoked, I did drugs, I skipped classes, I was a tease, I dyed my hair pink, I got tattoos, I pierced my belly button, I cut, I stole. Ended up with an eating disorder. One night I… I just didn’t think it was worth it anymore. So I downed a whole bottle of pills. All it got me was my stomach pumped, expelled from a school I actually really loved, a trip to rehab, and a mother who not only didn’t approve of me but now hated me for almost ruining her reputation.”

“Is that enough yet? Ugh, God, this is so stupid. My mom got me in an outpatient program, probably earlier than she was supposed to. I’d made up the classes I failed and my mom decided she didn’t want to have to keep up a fake story for my sophomore year. So it was back to school at lovely old Virginia Beach. It started awful. I was bitter about being home and I was still trying to recover. And then I met Nate, a senior. He… was so perfect in my eyes. It’s cheesy but I just fell completely in love. He got past my cover and helped me get better. He told me we’d be together after we graduated. And, yea, I was a fool for putting so much faith in him, and being a romantic way too young, but… he took care of me. And helped me pick up the pieces. And he just became my everything. My vision was so clouded…”

“Sophomore year was drawing to a close. Matt and my dad still didn’t like him, but I refused to listen to them. I wanted something that would finally make me happy. I thought Nate was it. My mom, as per her usual self, didn’t care but merely told me 24/7 that Nate would leave me broken all over again. I was determined to prove her wrong. God forbid I be right for once.”

“Nate didn’t leave me. He cheated on me. With a girl I thought had been my best friend. And so my mother was right. By the end of sophomore year, I was in pieces again. And I had no idea how I’d put myself together again.”

“One day I woke up and Matt was at the house. He said I could move into his apartment, put a little space between mom and me. So I packed up and left. My mom didn’t even say goodbye. I haven’t talked to her since, even though we’re still in the same town. I can’t say that it’s impossible for me to reach out to her, but it hurts that she doesn’t see me as worth any effort. I meet my dad for lunch when he’s in town, and he makes excuses for her. Same old, same old. Between shifts, Matt spent a lot of the summer with me. He helped me more than he could even realize. I think that’s what kept me from falling right back to where I was at the start of last summer.”

"So, I spent my summer recuperating. I toned myself up, had some retail therapy, and repaired the walls around my heart. I've done well so far and the first day of my junior year is not far off. I've been moving on and I'm ready to completely let go of the hell that’s been my past few years. Who knew that much bad could happen in so little time. That's why this is our last session. I’m at a healthy weight, and I’ve done everything I needed to. Have fun screwing around in someone else’s head.”


hey so, my name is Emma and i'm sixteen. i live in the EST time zone and play just Sofi. here's some of my work.

Scar questioned what she was doing approximately every 2.5 seconds. She had no idea what she was doing, really. It had all started when Chris mentioned there was a recording studio a few blocks from his apartment. It was around midnight. She hadn’t gone to sleep yet, not that Chris' echoing snores would've allowed her to anyway. He knew she was dying to go into a studio. And again, he felt some need to make up for their mom. This time she’d sent a letter. It looked like something she’d had their dad’s assistant had typed up because she couldn’t be bothered to write it herself. Scarlett tried to swallow back the sharp pain that hit at the memory. Chris, to compensate, started mumbling about this out of the way recording studio he drove by to get to the diner. Maybe he could ask around to see if he could get her “um, a tour, or uh, whatever it is you want to see”.

Scar had just put on one of her patented bright, I’m-okay-now smiles and told him to get his butt to work. There was probably some hot girl who needed some pancakes flipped. Satisfied, he’d left. And Scar had leaned against the counter, her eyes brimming with resentment as she looked at the letter lying on the table. It was so cold, formal, something that reminded her of all the letters from colleges she’d gotten after taking the SAT’s. It could’ve been to anyone, it just happened to be her name inserted at the top. And that was when impulse took over. She grabbed her old messenger bag, threw it over her shoulder, and slammed the door and all her mother’s expectations shut behind her.

It wasn’t until she got to the studio that she knew where she was headed. And it wasn’t until she was somehow inside that she really understood what she was doing. Scarlett didn’t really know what rules the studio had, but she could almost guarantee they didn’t enjoy people walking in off the street. But even as worries filled her head, she kept moving. Eventually the sound of a guitar led her to one particular door. She pushed it open silently.

Maybe it wasn’t anything special. But it was definitely one of those defining moments for her. Looking in, Scar knew she wanted to end up here someday. She knew why she hadn’t just given up on everything yet. So she could get here. And record. And somehow make an impact, make some sort of an impression on the world around her, some way so that others knew she’d been here, and- …And there was a person in there. A guy. With his guitar. Looking at the control board. And it was the sight of someone else in there that sort of popped her bubble. “I… I am so, so sorry. I didn’t realize… Sorry. I’m going, I swear.” Her face flushed bright red, she mumbled her apologies.