Post by kaelynn hawthorne on Jun 28, 2010 20:40:42 GMT -8
kaelynn faith hawthorne
[/b]
name: melinda
age: old enough
gender: female
writing experience: too much - ask my mom about the butterfly story.
how’d you find us?: we were created at the same time
a favorite book: The House at Riverton - Kate Morton
name: kaelynn faith hawthorne
age: sixteen
upper or lower schooling?: lower schooling
previous residence: kampala, uganda
eye color: green with darker hazel flecks
hair color: light brown
height: 5'5"
distinguishing features: her large, deep set eyes that are a peculiar shade of green, the dusting of freckles across her face, a scar along the right side of her neck
four good personality traits
four bad personality traits
three quirks
important people
Michael Hawthorne - father - 43
Katrina Hawthorne - mother - 39
OTHER:
Elise LeBlanc - "aunt" (close family friend acting as guardian while Kaelynn is in France- 38
Martin LeBlanc - 41
David Bolugu -17[/ul]
history
Africa had never been intended for the Hawthorne family. It was never discussed during the whirlwind courtship of Michael and Katrina at Bible college. Nor was it something that either dreamed while embracing one another in their dismal flat during the early days of marriage. And it was certainly not contemplated as Katrina waddled through their first home, her stomach swollen with their first child. Late at night, when Michael would sidle up next to her and they would rest their hands together on her abdomen, whispering hopes and dreams for their child did either of them think to mention Africa.
Yet, Africa found them. Her mournful song began stirring in both Katrina and Michael’s hearts as they read tales of the atrocities that had taken place there.
It was late one spring evening that Michael found his wife crying softly in their young daughter’s nursery. Concern washed over him in anxious waves as he rushed to her side. Taking her hands in his own he begged for her to tell him what was wrong. He had heard of post-partum—was it possible that she was just now suffering from it a year after their daughter had been born?
With tears snaking down her ivory cheeks, Katrina’s broken voice whispered the name that would change all three of their lives forever: Africa.
One year later, the young family left the comfort of their home in England and set out for Uganda. Neither Katrina nor Michael knew what to expect, but there was no doubt in either of their minds that this was what they were to do. Their friends and family thought them foolish—hadn’t they read the papers? Didn’t they care about the safety of their young daughter—what type of life would she possibly have there? Michael’s final words the day they boarded the plane became their mantra for the next years: “If I am not in the center of God’s will, then what sort of life am I placing Kaelynn into? I don’t ever want her to think that the safe route is the best to take. I want her to live in the center of what she was created for.”
Those words, spoken with such conviction at the time became their preserver during those early tumultuous years. It wasn’t an easy life for any of them. The family faced persecution that they had never experienced in England and there were many times that either Katrina or Michael considered calling it quits. Yet they persevered, taking each day one step at a time. Slowly, they found that what was once difficult was filled with ease.
It didn’t take long for their hearts to be drawn toward the orphans of the nation. Despite her desire to have more children of her own, after Kaelynn, Katrina had not been able to conceive again. Providing homes, education, and family for the orphaned children of Kampala filled a void in her heart. Again, they found that their ministry flourished and gained favor in the eyes of the community.
They were blessed with a daughter that never seemed to mind their surroundings. She was everything they had dreamed she could be and more. Bright, beautiful and talented. Kaelynn often played the piano during Sunday morning services or sang solos with the choir—he clear, sweet voice a delight to all. She seemed to flourish under the warm Ugandan sun. As Kaelynn grew, both her parents were aware of the attention she began to receive from the opposite sex. Michael guarded his little girl obsessively. He didn’t want to see her heart broken or to watch people use her because of who her parents were or the shade of her skin. He knew all too well the belief that a Mzungu (white person) was always affluent permeated the community. The only boy he allowed to get close to her was David Bolugu—the son of one the deacons.
To most, it was clear that David was in love with Kaelynn. Kaelynn, however, never saw this. In her eyes, David was her best friend, the boy she could tell all her secrets to. She loved him like she would love a brother, and, at thirteen, she wasn’t allowed to date. David, however, had other plans.
It was a rare, rainy afternoon and Kaelynn was alone at home when he came to call. She had been ecstatic, eager for a break from her textbooks and some company. Both of her parents had become preoccupied with their work in Gulu and rehabilitating child soldiers there to pay her much heed. There was the unspoken understanding that if she did need either of them that they would be there. Still, Kaelynn always felt bad when she pulled them from their ministry.
The moment she opened the door, she knew something was off. David’s ever-present smile had been replaced with a thin, terse line. As she had opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong, his lips pressed urgently against her own, clumsy with their need. Breaking free, Kaelynn stared at him in mute horror as he explained that he loved her and always had. As she attempted to explain that she didn’t reciprocate his feelings, she saw his expression shift from need to anger. David accused her of leading her on, of being a tease. That day their friendship died.
When her parents questioned her about the sudden departure of David in her life, she shrugged saying that she thought he had found a girlfriend or something. There was no point in telling either of them what had transpired. She knew that her parents loved him and Kaelynn didn’t want to say anything that would sway their opinion. He hadn’t done anything save call her some names—there was no harm there.
Yet his words took root in her heart and she began to wonder if what he had said was true. Had she inadvertently led him on? Had all those evenings spent on the front porch of her home made him believe that there was more to her words than she had wanted? With each passing day, his accusations drew her further and further from the world she loved.
Her parents, misreading her sudden withdrawn nature, assumed that it was because they had not been spending enough time with their daughter. They had planned another trip to check on the progress of the children’s village in Gulu and invited Kaelynn to accompany them. She had always loved partaking in the various ministries her parents chaired and was quick to accept. Eagerness filled her heart as she packed her bags for the weeklong excursion.
They had been told that the Lord’s Resistance Army had been disbanded, and that although it was impossible to be threat free, the family had nothing to worry about. Had either Michael or Katrina anticipated what was to come they never would have taken their daughter with them.
Kaelynn had been peacefully asleep in her tent, her parents mere feet away when a large hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her screams for help. Her eyes, wide with terror, stared up into the dead, black eyes of her unknown assailant. A cold smile spread across his lips as he watched her struggle beneath him. She had never seen such cold face before—void of emotion or compassion. As her struggles tired he held up a large blade, the dim light glinting off the blade as he leaned toward her, pressing it against her throat. Wrenching her eyes closed, Kaelynn braced herself to be murdered. Her mind raced as the pressure of the knife gradually increased. Had this man already killed her parents? Would it hurt? Why her?
But he didn’t kill her. In a low, gruff voice he told her to get up. Fear paralyzed her, until, with the knife still pressed firmly against her neck, he pulled her to her feet. A thick piece of cloth was forced between her lips, effectively gagging her. Not that she would have yelled—Kaelynn was frozen in terror. Her mind screamed for her to react but she couldn’t move. Despite her desire to do something, she remained compliant as her arms were bound behind her back, and then her ankles in a systematic manner. The one time she struggled, resulted in a painful backhand and the knife to cut through the thin material of her t-shirts shoulder and knick her skin.
Her captor whispered taunts as he bound her and then slung her over his shoulder as he made his way out of the camp. He assured her that a fate worse than death awaited her—that she could thank her parents for the future that now lay ahead of her. The unrelenting tears that soaked his shirt only made him laugh.
It was that laugh that saved her.
Michael always considered himself to be a sound sleeper. That night, however, a faint noise awakened him. Reaching for his flashlight, he emerged from his tent in time to see a figure making off with a wriggling bundle. The images didn’t compute. Even as he called out to the thief to stop, he had no concept of what was happening.
For Kaelynn, the next moments passed in an excruciating blur. The sound of her father’s voice had provided her with a momentary breath of hope. She was saved!
A searing pain ripped through her throat as she was dropped to the ground. Her neck felt warm and sticky as she struggled to right herself. And then her father’s anguished cries filled the still night air. Again, she felt herself being lifted, something pressing hard against her neck. Her head felt light, as though she were in a cloud. She could feel her eyes closing against her will as her father ran with her to the camps medic. Her last memory was of her father’s hot tears splashing against her face and wondering why he was crying.
It was three days later when she finally opened her eyes once more. Everyone said it was a miracle that she had survived the attack. More so that Michael had been wakened and gone to check on the camp. Despite the relief that they all felt, there was one unspoken truth that weighed heavy on the family: the assailant would return to finish what he had started.
Katrina refused to believe that her daughter was in danger—the prospect of sending Kaelynn away was unbearable. That was until she found the note that promised that they would return for Kaelynn and that this time she would not be so fortunate. The thin note paper was smeared with what they promised was her blood. Despite the agony she felt at sending their daughter away, both Katrina and Michael knew that they had no other option. As much as it pained them to know that they would be unable to see her bright smile everyday, they couldn’t place her at risk any longer.
Katrina contacted her friend back in France and the decision was made to send Kaelynn to the Academie d'Ouvrard.
The decision was met with much resistance from Kaelynn—she’d retain a low profile; no one had to know that she was still in Kampala. She offered to stay away from Gulu—anything so she didn’t need to leave. Yet nothing she could say would sway her parent’s minds. And so, she boarded a flight for Paris, leaving behind Uganda—her heart
if you could be anywhere, where would you be?
Uganda, obviously. I don't like it here. The people are stuck up; the guys total toads and the girls superficial wannabes that think a proper diet consists of a celery stick. I don't fit in here and it's so obvious that it hurts. My aunt can toss me in the latest designer fashions but it's like putting lipstick on a pig - doesn't change what's underneath. "Give it time," my mom says. I don't want to. Get me out of here. Please.
character’s play-by: Drielle Valeretto
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mercier
bretonne
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