i tried not to notice ;; IMOGEN

[Jessica Filley]

Week 1 at Michigan State was nearing it's end, and Jessica Filley had survived, alongside her twin sister. Her situation was anything but ideal, starting with the fact that their plan had failed. Badly. And they had wound up here, in this prison. Though, Jessie supposed it could be worse, she thought, as she walked across the grounds of the institution, carrying her acoustic guitar with her by the neck. Most of the time she'd spent here was with her sister. Alicia would do the talking, and Jessie would stand by her, backing her up if she needed to. That was how they always were, even as children. Alicia was bold and outgoing, and Jessie was smart and quiet. They balanced each other out, in a way, forming a perfect friendship. Jessie was the sense and logic, while Alicia was the guts. Jessie looked down as she walked, watching her checkered vans as they marched forward. She wasn't really sure where she was going, really. She just wanted to go somewhere outside. Somewhere where she could forget that she was in prison, and it was entirely her fault.

Jessie stopped walking once she reached the basketball courts. She wasn't a big fan of basketball, or sports in general. Not that she was particularly un-athletic or anything, but she just was never into it. She was a musician at heart, not an athlete. Jessie set her guitar against the metal fence for a moment. Taking an elastic from her wrist and tying back her wildly curly hair, a few shorter pieces in the front falling out of the ponytail. The girl picked up her guitar again and walked through the gates, looking around at the deserted basketball courts. It was a depressing sight, really. The hoops were rusted, just like the fence and the nets looked like they were about to disintegrate. The asphalt was worn in too. It was probably pitch black at one point, but now it was a dirty looking gray colour. Whatever, at least she was outside on a nice day. The sun was shining, and she could actually hear birds chirping, which was a nice comfort.

Humming quietly, Jessie took her guitar and headed over to the opposite side of the courts, taking a seat against the part of the fence that didn't look like it would collapse on top of her. She set her guitar down across her lap, and fished through the pockets of her faded blue jeans, finally pulling out one of many picks that she often carried around with her. She put the pick in her mouth while she situated her guitar on her lap, and then strummed the first string, adjusting the tuning peg with left hand. She did this for the rest of the strings, and then strummed them all at the same time, smiling as the chord echoed slightly around the grounds. She looked at her fingers on the neck of the guitar, positioning them for the first chord of one of her favourite songs, Bessa by Tilly and the Wall. She sang quietly at first, slowly getting louder as she gained confidence.

tags;; imogen
outfit;; here
word count;; 550 ish
lyrics;; bessa, by tilly and the wall
song here

[Imogen Winters]

He was up, before the sun actually had it's daylight debut, sadly and when he was up, he could do nothing but stare into space. He had nothing to do today, and it was a common thing to think in this place. The Michigan staff gave you absolutely nothing to do but fight one another or go outside and look as if you were actually doing something. Imogen could never stay in his cell for long - probably because it strangely brought back memories of when he'd walked into his room and laid down to rest after killing his step-father. Nobody knew the reason behind him calling his biological father, his step-father and he had no intent of telling. That thought alone, was what Imogen remembered the most about his father; that he was never there in their lives and began to act as if he wasn't the one who'd produced two healthy boys - instead he'd acted as if he was the second husband of his first wife. It was complicated, which was why Imogen never talked about why he'd killed his father.

Everything about it was complicated and nobody would ever understand it, he figured. Probably his gun would understand because it was the bullet that surged through him that killed him but Imogen was the one who'd killed him - actually pulled the trigger ending his life and telling him that his life ended now even if some higher being had other plans for him. It was like everything in his life was unintended. He wasn't suppose to be here - his mother shouldn't have come home and he would have been fine. He have woken and ran - simply ran.

Strangely enough, he found himself at the basketball court, fully clothed with a pair of sneakers on his feet, as he thought this through. He hadn't even realized he'd been walking, let alone walking outside. Only did he realize he was here, when he'd reached the end of his thoughts on his father. Did he have regrets? No. Did he wish he'd escaped? Yes. And it seemed as if he'd gotten one thing he'd wanted while getting another thing he hadn't wanted at all. It was cruel for him to have to be here - he'd only been getting rid of the filth that constituted the earth and they brought him here.

Pausing, he looked around him, confusion playing across his face. His hair was patted down, and sticking up in some place as it usually did. Imogne wasn't the sports type - he was bad at them and even if he was remotely good at any given sport he wouldn't play them in less it involved shooting targets. Other than that, sports were just a waste to him, besides track and cross country of course. He was a pretty decent runner.

Then from the corner of his eyes, he could see a girl by the fence, guitar in lap and wild hair like his own, except fashioned differently. He watched her from a distance, curiosity stemming inside of him as her voice grew louder - loud enough for him to hear it faintly. One foot in front of the other, he was able to hear her strumming the guitar and a gentle smile curled onto his face as he approached her cautiously. You never knew with the people here, how crazy they were. The girl, looked as if she could concentrate on that one song for her whole life and all Imogen could do was stand there and look at her wistfully as she played. "You're really good." he said, shyly. For once, he was truly, shy to be talking. Socializing wasn't his forte and he hadn't intended on speaking at all, just listening, then he'd spoken. Great.

"Sorry." he said swiftly. He didn't mean it, but it seemed to call for it, seeing as he'd disturbed her.

word count: 672
tag: jessie
notes: that song is really catchy!

[Jessica Filley]

Jessie continued to strum along with the chords, her voice echoing over the grounds of Michigan State. The song sounded okay without the piano part, she guessed, but it sounded a little bit empty to her. She'd have to remember to get Alicia or someone to learn the piano part and the harmony. Anyone, really. She'd love to have someone to jam with to take her mind off things. The music room was actually really nice. It didn't look at all like it belonged with the rest of it. The art room was the same way, from what she had heard, though she hadn't been there herself. She was sure her sister had, at least. When the time comes, I'll try my best not to tell you,Jessie slowed down the tempo of the song as she sang. Please don't leave again... Jessie's voice grew soft at this point, and soon her guitar faded out, and she was left tapping her palm against the body of her guitar to keep time while she sang. Normally, this part of the song would have piano in the background, but obviously, since there was no piano out here, this would have to do. Jessie picked up her hand again and place it near the strings, and the strumming started up again.

Guess I'd better wake up then, and find my own way.

Jessie closed her eyes for a moment as the last chord rung out across the basketball courts. When she opened her eyes, she realized that she had company. Jessie looked up, pushing a strand of curly hair out of her face to see a boy standing there looking at her. "You're really good," he said, a little quietly. Jessie smiled slightly. She hadn't realized anyone was watching her, otherwise she probably would've been singing a lot more quietly, or not at all. Alicia always told her that she had to stop being so shy if she wanted to make it as a musician, but Jessie got horrible stage fright sometimes. She was always more prone to messing up if she had people starring at her while she played; it just put a lot of pressure on her. But apparently, if someone was watching her in secret, like just now, for instance, then she could play like she normally did when she was by herself, or in front of her sister. She didn't feel as intimidated in front of Alicia as she did in front of other people, though she still felt a shyness come over her. "Sorry," the boy spoke again. Sorry? Why would he be apologizing for saying that she was good at playing guitar and singing?

"Oh...thank you," Jessie replied, a little shyly as well, a smile playing on her lips. "Didn't see you there," she mumbled, with a slight shrug of her shoulder. Not that she minded, of course. This boy didn't seem like the type to judge someone based on their musical ability. Jessie looked up from behind her mess of hair, to smile up at the boy. She hadn't seen him before, she realized, as she probably would have recognized him if she had. Then again, the only person Jessie really knew around here was her own twin, but that was kind of a given. Maybe she could introduce herself to the boy. He was out here already, maybe he could use a friend as much as she could. "I'm Jessie," she said, looking up at him.

tags;; imogen
outfit;; here
word count;; 614
lyrics;; bessa, by tilly and the wall
song here

[Imogen Winters]

Slowly, Imogen took a step over to her, as he looked at the strings of her guitar. He’d never taken the time to learn guitar but there was a time when he’d been hugely interested in playing the acoustic guitar. He was no good though because the day he’d picked up the fully loaded gun on the side of the room, it took up his life fully. The gun was everything in his life and he’d sold his guitar, taking the money and then got his gun polished, fixed and used the rest for bullets. The guitar was no longer his obsession but when it had been, he’d tried to self teach himself. He listened to youtube videos, he asked people on blogs about their guitars and how they remembered what sounds the strings made and what letter was that string or this string. With the gun it wasn’t so difficult, but he always could make a new challenge with it. The gun never ceased to amaze him and now it was gone because Michigan State decided he’d be dangerous with it, when in fact he wouldn’t. He’d do anything to get it back and that included not shooting anyone that annoyed him or beat him up previously. But, he was fooling himself. They would never believe someone like him. He doubted much of the staff believed any of the inmates when they said they would change.

“Um..” he said, his eyes looking at her with no emotion. “You’re welcome.” He said, finally forming a smile on his face. Then with her next words he began to scratch his neck nervously. Her words made him sound as if he was a stalker. That’s what any victim would say when they saw a stalker, ‘Oh, I didn’t see you there.’ He looked down at the ground, nervousness overcoming him and this was no façade. He really was nervous not because of the way she said those words but the smile on her lips while she said them. He wasn’t sure if she was joking or if – well she was scared and just putting up an act to look brave. The slight shrug of her shoulder did nothing for him, only made the picture painted in his mind grow more vivid and blinding. He blinked a few times, taking two stumbled steps back, shielding his eyes. The sun wasn’t even that bright. “Damnit” he said, not to her, his eyes blazing as he looked at the vivid picture that wouldn’t leave him alone.

Finally, when it stopped he looked at her sheepishly, as he stepped forward to look once again at the strings she strummed so good. “Yeah,...I can be quiet when I need to be. It’s a curse.” He said, a smile on his peach face. He put his hand on the back of his neck, scratching but not feeling any itchiness in that spot. He ran his hand through his hair, and looked at her, a genuine smile on his face, which quickly disappeared. “I’m Imogen.” He stated, extending his hands to her. He took his other hand and ruffled up his hair again, his eyes glancing between her and the guitar. “How long have you been playing?” he asked.

Word count: 540
Tag: Jessie
Notes: sorry for the wait