known as : annalise raaker

The prospect of needing someone has the tendency to make people shiver. To think of being lost without another being…of that piece of you that would be gone. Quite a queer sort of feeling, really, to know that there was one other person so important to your life that you would need them. But truly, the only reason it’s fearful is because of what a weakness it is. Caring for someone so deeply that you would fail without them is one of the most dangerous things known to man. Such a thing becomes a threat, a way for others to bring you down without ever having touched your flesh. That was the thing that made ANNALISE shiver. The idea that someone could hurt her without being anywhere near her. Or, worse, that they could hurt that other person in her presence. For surely, watching the pain and suffering of the one you love would be the most devastating thing that could be forced on you. Or at least, that was her view on the subject.

Not that ANNALISE had never been guilty of needing someone. Sadly, she was guilty of far more than that. But such details will be confided at a later date, within more security. Who knows what prying eyes may glance at these words? It would be condemning to reveal all of her petty little secrets just now, which was something that FELONY ANNE has no interest in doing. The short of it is that she’s done something very naughty, but it was for love. For love, for pain, for sorrow, for obscurity…for what have you, the deed’s done and no one can change it. Except for ANNALISE, maybe. If she cared to, there was some small possibility that she could undo her past. The problem was that she didn’t care to. She didn’t care one bit whether she could patch up the mess she’d made. It had been a conscious decision, after all, so what reason could she have to edit her previous exertions? None whatsoever, that’s what. Perhaps you may have an inkling of what she’s done by the name others have given her. Over the years she’d dropped enough hints and made enough suggestions that those around her had dubbed her a felon, and christened her FELONY ANNE. And how she despised it.

Originally ANNALISE RAAKER hailed from beautiful LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA. The reasons for her migration to LONDON were strictly confidential, G14 classified thank you. Of a certainty the reasons were related to the naughty things she’d done, but you don’t know that. No one really does. The only indication that she hadn’t been raised in ENGLAND was her painfully obvious AMERICAN accent. Oh, and the fact that she was oblivious to the layout of her new home. On several occasions she gotten herself almost hopelessly lost, and she’d only lived in the damn country for about two weeks. Nonetheless, she was determined to remain here until she had no choice but to flee, as she’d done from her homeland. Not that she believed she’d fall into the same trap here, but there was never knowing with MISS ANNALISE. The girl was rather a law unto herself, as she was like to remind you if you stick your fingers in the wrong hole.

Just now our delinquent was walking towards BLACKFRIARS BRIDGE. Or at least, that’s what she thought the name of it was. As she approached the structure her eyes were cast about the water forlornly. Her boots clicked softly on the pavement beneath them, adding a familiar undertone to the more pronounced sounds of city life about her. Recent rains had left the bridge slick and droplets pooled on the polished surface of the railing. One finger was raised to slide through the moisture, creating a disturbance among the separate colonies of molecules. The simplicity of such an act seemed commonplace; a girl lost in her thoughts, gazing at the bridge as if it was the only thing in the world that mattered. ANNALISE was anything but simple, however, and her thoughts were a grid so hazardous even she had to will herself not to shrink from them. For quite some time she’d done just that, preferring her fantasies over the life she’d abandoned. No matter how she tried, though, she couldn’t erase the events that had pushed her from home. The plagued her, haunted her, drove her about her life in a whirlwind of uninspired guilt and catastrophe. But hey, that’s the life of FELONY ANNE. One diseased decision after another. Stumble, trip, fall?