Character Building: Mina Stafford

Character Building – Mina Stafford

My Parents

My father was an alcoholic. My stepfather raped me. My mother hated me, to the point of letting it happen. One time, she put out a cigarette on my arm when I dared to even suggest that something wasn’t right.

Fuck you.

My Most Prominent Physical Feature

I don’t have one. Yeah, I know the question is ‘most’, so obviously I do have a most prominent feature, even if, overall, the most prominent is only like one out of ten on the prominent scale. But I work hard on not being noticed, and a big help in that is the lack of prominent features. My hair is curly and brown. My eyes are brown. My skin is a little tan, not so much as you’d really notice. My features are even, nothing too noticeable. I get freckles in summer. Nothing special, really.

Scars

There’s a gash along my arm where my dad smashed a mirror over me, and it broke. And there are cigarette burns on my shoulders. There’s a scar on my other elbow where I broke it when I was seven.

Vanity

I try not to think about my looks. My parents told me I was ugly constantly, but I was pretty enough for my stepdad to fuck me. Go figure.

I went through a stage of wanting to cut my face, but it hurt too much, and then it healed. And my mom beat me black and blue for having a mark where people could see it. I didn’t do it again after that.

I pluck my eyebrows and wear a little lipgloss. Since my skin is pale and my eyes are dark, that’s generally enough to look normal. I don’t eat much, so I stay a little too thin. My mom called me fat a lot, and sometimes I remember that when people offer me food. I mostly live on coffee.

Kinsey Scale

I’m straight, I think. I can’t imagine being attracted to a woman. It took me long enough to be okay with being attracted to men.

Erasing Past?

Ha bloody ha, what on earth could I possibly want to erase? Fuck you.

Favourites

My favourite flower is a lily. My favourite colour is indigo. My favourite song is Let the Bodies hit the Floor.

Trust

Who do I trust? Seriously? No one.

I trust Leo, in the sense that we could send each other to prison. I trust that he likes me, that he wants me around, that he likes living with me. I don’t trust that it’ll last forever.

I don’t trust anyone in my family. I don’t have any close friends. I do trust my colleagues not to sell me or Leo out, though, of course, I don’t trust them to the extent that I trust Leo.

Turning Point

Leo. Leo loved me as much as he could, and it was uncomplicated. It was simple. Every day he loved me, I hated the world and myself less.

Animal

I don’t like animals, or rather, they don’t like me. I’ve never had a pet.

Computer Savvy?

I have to be. I’m not as good as Leo or Ciaran, but I know enough to google an error message, which is more than most people seem to these days. I can generally find my way around a bit of new technology easily enough.

My bed

I wake up neatly. My covers and pillow tend to be straight, so I just slide out and don’t even make the bed.

Hot or cold?

Put on a coat. Take off a coat. It’s not complicated.

Morning or Night?

I like morning from the underneath. I don’t do getting up early, but I like staying up late and watching the sunrise. Leo and I did that from the top of a tower block once. It was grey and shitty and wonderful, all at the same time.

Blood Relatives?

Ha. Ha. Hahahaha. Fuck off.

I have no family. I have no blood relatives who I’m close to. I’d happily disown anyone who claims to be related to me, and, in fact, have. Do you know what they did to me?! Do you know what my mother did? That evil, stupid, selfish bitch! Fuck off and leave me alone!

Work Space

My work space is very well organised. I keep all the papers and cards related to each identity in separate envelopes. I have a desktop computer. I have various containers and paper-holders, all in black and silver. It’s a desk made for working.

Can you cook?

Can I cook? I can microwave, and I can boil things, does that count? I’m pretty adept at ordering takeaways, how about that? Who cooks these days? Who has time?

Preferred Means of Travel

I like driving. I like being in control of where I'm going, with no one bugging me, just me, and my own space. I like smoking while I drive. I like the feeling of being on auto-pilot. I like not relying on anyone else to take me places.

Irrational Fears?

I have enough rational fears without coming up with any irrational ones, thank you very much. I have fucking nightmares where I have to live with my parents again for whatever reason, and I know I can never escape, and I would rather fucking die.

Cutie Mark

What the FUCK is a cutie mark?

If you could time travel?

I'd go back and save Leo. Or maybe go back even further and save myself. How about that?

Superstitious?

I'm agnostic, does that count? I'm not sure whether god or any sort of higher force exists or not. I pray when I'm frightened. Would that be a kind of superstition?

Your ideal partner?

Leo. Go to hell, bitch.

Your hands?

My hands? What kind of question is that? I keep my nails short because long nails annoy me. I don't paint them. There's a scar on the tip of my left index finger where I accidentally sliced it open once. You can see the veins on the back. Is that enough for you?

What do you smell like?

What do I smell like? Are you insane? How am I supposed to know what I smell like? It's the background smell!

Leo told me I smelt like paper.

Favourites?

Are you fucking serious? You want to know my favourites? Fuck you. I like black, is that enough fucking information for you? I like coffee. I like cucumber sandwiches. My favourite time of year is autumn, because the leaves look nice, and because it meant I got to go back to fucking school instead of staying at home all day. My favourite vice is smoking. That or fucking drinking, I haven't decided.

If your life were a genre...

Horror. Dark and gritty Brit flick. Slasher movie. All very grey and rainy.

Two Songs

In Too Deep, by Genesis. When I left home. When I met Leo. Loving Leo. Not being able to love Leo.

Objects in the Rearview Mirror May Appear Closer than they Are. And my father's eyes were blank as he hit me again and again and again. I hear that ugly, coarse and iron voice, then he grabs me from behind and he pulls me back. I still believe he never let me leave, I had to run away alone.

For My Lover. Every day I'm psychoanalysed.  They dope me up and I tell them lies.  And everybody thinks I'm a fool...they don't get any love from you.