Caeleus Vanderwell {District 7}

[Deleted]

{ C A E L E U S V A N D E R W E L L }

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- male
- seventeen
- district seven
- Vanderwell family

{ A p p e a r a n c e }

On the outside, I don't look any different from my siblings: the same untidy mess of hair, the same simple clothing, and the same haunting look. It's become instinct to stare blankly at the world before me, for my family's habits have rubbed off on me. It's difficult to live in a house full of dead eyes and empty stares and not inherit such a feature.

Sometimes, you can catch the glint of life in my eyes, but I'm constantly trying to hide it. My thoughts are something I keep to myself, something I don't want to share with the rest of my family, knowing the consequences of that. I'm smart enough to know that rash decisions will only leave me in the middle of a disaster. Therefore, I don't smile. My mother said that a smile expresses happiness, which is against His will. So rarely do I smile, yet I'm probably the most optimistic of the family.

Though, I often wish I could smile. When I hear kids laughing and smiling and crying because they're just so happy, something dies inside of me. Our mother says that they are sinners, but I don't know. It seems like a better life to me.

My lifeless eyes are a blue-green color, sometimes mixed with a bit of grey: just as confused as my loyalties. My hair isn't curly, but it's almost there. It's a pure mess of layers, all pointing in different directions. I can't say it's much different than my siblings' hair: curly, untidy, and a bit daunting.

I'm fairly taller than average, an inch or two over six feet. Because I am basically my family's source of income, working in a factory where wood products are processed, I have callused hands. I'm fairly well-built when it comes to muscular strength; of course, that doesn't mean I'm anything like the Careers you'd see fighting in the Hunger Games. My only strength comes from the constant work I do day to day for my family. Because my mother taught us that extravagance is selfish, my clothing has always been simple, plain, and empty of all self-expression.

I often feel as though my appearance doesn't accurately reflect who I am. I've become just another figure of my family, another Vanderwell. Sometimes, I wish people could look at me and see "Caeleus" rather than "that Vanderwell kid," but even I know that's never going to happen. Not in this life.


{ P e r s o n a l i t y }

I'm optimistic--putting that out there right now. However, I'm often told that I'm too optimistic, optimistic to the point where it's unhealthy. I look on the bright side of every situation and I try to convince myself that everyone is naturally good, and that they just make mistakes here and there. A lot of them.

People often mistake my ability to compromise and be flexible with the needs of others with the qualities of a follower. No, I am most definitely a leader; in fact, I've been trying to lead my family for years, but I don't usually distinguish myself like most leaders do. I'm bad at taking the spotlight and just giving an order.

Instead, I always seem to be worrying about what other people want and how my choices will affect them and trying to find a result that will please everyone. I'm too selfless, sometimes. Ask anyone. Actually, no. Don't ask my family because they are never paying attention. And don't ask anyone else, because they're too afraid to pay attention.

You can see how lonely it gets.

Therefore, I'm indecisive. My desires and my care for my others--especially my family--often collide, making it difficult for me to give a yes or no answer. I'm one of those people who just want to please everybody and can't stand the thought of being on anyone's bad side, yet at the same time, there comes a point when you need to start thinking about what you want rather than what others want.

What do I want? Well, I don't know. I want my sister, Aelia, back. I want my whole family back, in fact. Yet, I also want to be free, free of this religious cult that I'm bound to. It sickens me, day and night. I'm sick of getting stared at during school, avoided like I'm some sort of dangerous animal. No one talks to me, because they don't want to take that risk. They know about my family: even the teachers know. But through the years, I've come to convince myself that if they can't respect my family, then why should I respect them? Although I often tend to think of this idea the other way around.

I'm a friendly person. When I have something negative or critical to say, I say it in the nicest way possible, sugarcoating it with compliments. Naturally, I'm sensitive to the people around me and it's difficult for me to lose my composure. I can't fight or argue, for I've always been the mediator.

At the same time, because I'm so sensitive, it's difficult to let go of things. I get attached to people, objects, places, and ideas easily. When it comes time to leave them, I can't, and I break that natural composure. That's also why I am so indecisive.

However, I'm compassionate to the point where being helpful is second nature. Most of the time, I stand in the background, being that shoulder to lean on when something goes wrong.

Do I ever get sick of it? Watching over my younger siblings, keeping them out of trouble, trying to lead them down the right path but trying to be gentle at the same time? Yes, I do. Often, I wish I could escape it, but escape would be unforgivable. I'm not one to give up. I always commit myself fully to everything I do, and no matter how insane my family is, I've promised to stand by their side. Or at least, I think I have.

Still, I'm good at controlling my emotions. When I have something to say, I think through the situation before saying it. Of course, this also means that I'm far from honest.

Had I never been born into this family, I think I might have been one of those really good, respectful, friendly guys, the ones you don't come across quite often enough. That's who I visualize myself being, maybe in the future sometime: normal. But for now, I'm a Vanderwell, and my responsibility is not to have fun or be popular. My responsibility is to protect my family and make sure they don't get involved in anything that will put themselves in danger.


{ H i s t o r y }

I never thought much of my childhood, at least not while it was happening. Back then, I didn't really understand what normal was. But it didn't take me too long to figure it out.

For generations, our family had been religious to the point where it was unhealthy. My mother had a book full of rules and truths and she read them everyday, over and over again. She was consumed by her belief in Him, passing her strict guidelines to her spiritual life along to us.

My sister, Aelia was born a year before me, and already, our mother was forcing religion on her. My mother did the same to me, teaching me how to read The Book's texts at an early age. After me, it was Lucius and then the twins. Lucius honestly scared me from the start. There was this quietness about him, paired with this hidden aggression that caused me to keep my distance.

As a toddler and even as a small child, I looked up to Aelia. She was definitely a dreamer by nature and that's what I loved about her. Being the curious child that I was, I often tried to pull her on my private adventures. I constantly wandered off, and although my mother did punish me for it, she was often too focused on her books and prayers. In the beginning, Aelia found enjoyment with me, following along with my games of make pretend, but each time, she seemed worried. "What would He say?" She would ask; and I would just shrug. I never had a better answer.

I felt guilty, for I knew it was probably against the rules to have fun. When Aelia declined by invitations to play, I often wove her crowns of flowers instead, for our mother had said that no matter how long we spent in that small, run-down old house of ours, the forest would always be our true home. She took us out there all of the time, despite the many dangers that inhabited the woods.

Of course, when I was younger, I still respected Him. I tried to keep my playtime to a minimum, restraining my curiosity for the sake of what I knew was right. Yet, it hurt to see how little my mother cared for us. Although she gave her children a very vivid and strong religious education, she did little else for the family, leaving that responsibility on my shoulders.

From an early age, I was the one to prepare dinner, the one to make sure no one was skipping school, and the one to pick the younger ones up and off the ground when they tripped over branches in their nightly visits to the woods. My mother stopped caring about anything but the religious lives of her children. He was all that mattered; and the health of her own children came secondary.

Our mother wasn't very good at doing her job, and consequently, I became her replacement. Though, I didn't get much credit for the countless hours of work I put in to protect our family. Everyone else was too invested in reading The Book along with committing themselves fully to prayer. Because I had enough reason to see that my family would starve without my help, I didn't dedicate as many hours to prayer, and I instead I found every way I could to raise enough money for our for our family to keep running. My mother said we had enough, but I didn't believe her. She said a lot of things.

When I wasn't working, I was badgering my siblings to do their homework. When I wasn't doing that, I was preparing dinner or doing chores. And when I wasn't doing that, I was studying science. After years of healing the others when they tripped through the woods (you'd be surprised by how many times that happened) on their way to pray; mending the cuts and bruises that resulted from pure accidents or even from school bullies who thought they could mess with my family; or even from healing their occasional self-inflicted pain, I learned a lot about how to treat simple medicial conditions.

But that wasn't what I wanted to heal: I wanted to heal this self-deprecating condition that Aelia had fallen into, or even the twins' obvious issue with communication. So, I often found a quiet place--a coffeeshop in the midst of town, where I knew my family wouldn't come bothering me about how selfish my actions were--and that's where I did my schoolwork, studying deep into my psychology textbook, as if the answers were somewhere in there. Somewhere, I hoped.

When I wasn't sitting in my little coffeeshop, nose in a textbook, I was praying--praying for the sake of myself, to He who I not only despised for putting my family in such a state, but also feared. Who knew how deep into trouble I was? I had broken so many rules in the past.

When I was sixteen, I sunk even deeper into trouble. For the first time in a long while, someone outside my family had taken the effort to talk to me: a girl named Grace. Maybe she hadn't known about my family, or maybe she was just trying to be nice--who really knows? Anyways, we were sitting in class, and because I was sick of having to be someone else for the sake of my family's religion, I didn't shut her out. Instead, I kept the conversation going.

We talked a lot. We weren't quite a relationship, but we definitely became good friends in the next two weeks. I spent a lot of time out of the house, hanging out with her and her friends. For a short amount of time, I wasn't the weird religious kid at the back of the room; I was normal.

Two weeks after I met this girl, she invited me to a party. I accepted, but when I got home, I was conered by my mother with questions on where I had been. "Was it with that girl, Grace?" She asked, both angry and concerned. I endured quite a punishment that night. But how had she figured it out? The only conclusion I could come to, was that one of my siblings must have found out and told her. And who would do that? I knew exactly who.

I shoved Grace to the floor the next day. When she came up to me after class with a smile on her face, I just did it, trying to rid my face of all emotion. It hurt, but my mother said that Grace needed to be punished for her actions. After that, I distanced myself even more from the surrounding world, promising to once again commit myself fully to pulling my family out of this world of insanity that they had trapped themselves in before making any rash decisions.

Callista, my youngest sister, was something else entirely: she wasn't anything like the rest of my siblings, for she so rarely devoted herself to Him. Yet, I had to watch over her just as I did any of the others, and sometimes even more. She wasn't afraid to make her ideas public, especially her ideas on her lack of religious devotion. She rashly avoided the rules, always running around like she was fully independent. I'd always been afraid for her, afraid that she'd be punished for her actions. Still, it seemed as though every time I tried to tell her to tone it down a notch, I'd find Lucius somewhere nearby, peeping in on the scene. I always felt his eyes on me, as though he were waiting for something: waiting for me to betray Him.

At the same time, Callista was my reminder that I wasn't totally alone. I wasn't the only one who thought this life was insane and difficult and completely uncalled for; I wasn't the only one who hated Him with all the energy left in me. But I had to be cautious, for two people out of seven, didn't mean much when it came down to the odds of escaping.

I came to realize that forcing my siblings into realizing what they were doing to themselves would never work, so I tried to subtly lead them down the right path and out of their silly lives full of self-deprecating behavior. That didn't work too well either. I've had too many instances where all I've wanted to do was give up and escape. Just stop trying. But I'd made many mistakes in the past but one mistake I didn't want to make was leaving my family to nothing. He did nothing for them. I did everything, a seventeen-year old looking after a troubling family of five, while my mother kept to her own business. I worked so hard for them, but they just didn't realize it.

All I could do was hope that someday they would.


{ C o d e w o r d }[/color]
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[pika]

[Caeleus]

Fear the day you meet the real Caeleus