Jasper Cullen D9 [Done]

Appearance:

Is it bad I find it amusing that people stare because I don't really look like my brother, Anthony? A few things about us are similar, but there's nothing much. Tony is taller than I am by a mere four inches, but that's nothing. I stand five foot nine inches tall, and that's all I need. My hair matches his though. It's black, and curly, and shaggy, but not too shaggy. My skin tone is slightly darker than his though. It must be from my mother. I have a different mother than Tony does, but it doesn't mean anything. I look more like my mother. The only features that belong to my father is my hair, and my nose. I wish my nose my was my mother's nose, but not every feature comes from my mother. I also get my small muscles from my father. My mother is weak, and I'm glad I got them from my father because I didn't want to look like a slab of skin tossed upon a skeleton. I guess it's not so bad after all.

Sitting on my round, oval shaped face are my eyes. They are almond shaped, and are dark. It's hard to make out the pupils because of the color surrounding it. It's amazing because it all looks like a giant pupil, and it makes people wonder what my actual eye color is. Sitting above my eyes is dark, bushy eyebrows. My lips are tiny with little pink showing. My teeth are white because I take care of them. It's disgusting to look at teeth that haven't been cleaned well. My ears. I hate my ears. I wish my hair was shaggy enough to cover them up. They're large and stick out. I blame my mother. When I was younger, I laughed at her large ears, but I didn't realize I had the same ears. My clothing is clean and neat. I don't want to look ragged when I'm out and about, but when I'm in the privacy of my own home, I'll walk around with no shirt on. Nobody has to see me, and it makes a world of difference.

Personality:

When people look at me, I want them to see the quiet side of me. See, I'm an introvert, but that doesn't mean I'm shy. I don't like talking to people because normally I have nothing to talk about. The every day conversation doesn't satisfy me. I'd rather have a friendly chat with someone about family or friends because it's so much better. I guess you could say I have a bubble wrapped around me defending myself from getting hurt. I'm afraid of getting hurt because it's happened a lot. I used to let people walk all over me, but that was until things changed. It was horrible being used like I was nothing but a door mat. It's made me who I am right now. It takes a lot to allow someone to step inside the bubble, but for those I let it, they should be happy because it means I have a strong trust for them.

When I let someone into the bubble wrapped around me, I finally show the true me. I like to see myself as a very easy going person. It doesn't take much to get along with me. When I speak to those friends, I'll talk forever about anything. I laugh with them because they are close to me. I'll joke around and try to show people to have a good time. I only allow a few people to get to know me, though. I would prefer to be around a few good friends that I know have my back than a bunch of friends who would throw me to the dogs in a matter of seconds. It hurts, and it makes the bubble around me grow larger when people do that, but it is what it is. People are going to be people.

I'm always on the outside looking in. No matter how hard I try to fit in, it didn't happen because I was different. It's annoying, and it aggravates me, but I try not to let it get to me. I got tired of going home from school crying because of the bullies making fun of me. They are the reason I changed. I wasn't always this way, but the more they tortured me the more the bubble around me grew. I hated it, and eventually I didn't have many friends. Sure, there was a few people I talked to on a regular basis, yet they weren't my real friends. I don't know what a real friend is, and I hate it, but I don't know how to change it. Maybe one day I'll find a friend that'll understand me, but until then, I'll sit trapped in this bubble waiting for someone to let in.

History:

Life was going well. I never knew my father until I was five years old because I lived with my mother. She told me that my father was a horrible person, and I believed her. It turned out my mother was the horrible person though. When I was five she decided she didn't want me anymore, and she brought me to my father's house. He had a big family, and I met my half brother, Tony, for the first time. Turned out he's the same age as me. My mother left, and she didn't take me with her. I begged for her to return, but she never did. Many nights I cried myself to sleep, but my father never understood why. One night I was talking to Tony, and that's when I found out that his parents had abandon his brother. It didn't make sense that someone would do that, but it happened.

It didn't take long for me to stop hating my mother for what she did because finally I decided that it was best if I moved on in life without her. I started calling Tony's mother, mom because she was there for me more than my mother ever was, but the only downfall was how much she drank. My father was the same way. It's no wonder my mother hated him. I hated the way they drank. I hated the smell of it. Many times they would return home, and I'd run to my room and hide. The house isn't big anyway, so I didn't have my own room. It was actually very ran down compared to the rest of the houses here. District nine isn't nice anyway, but this house was way worse than the house I was once in. It didn't make a difference, though, because it was a roof over my head. It got me through my life, but I wish it was gone now.

Now, that I'm older, I've watched Tony turn into what my parents are. He's a drunk, and it breaks my heart watching him. I always looked to him for answers, but now I don't. It's hard walking through the house because of all the cans and bottles tossed all over the floor, but I believe that Tony can be stopped. I think that part of the reason he drinks is because he can't find his, our, brother. I've watched the anger in his life, and I'd love to help find him. I don't like being around Tony because all he ever wants to do is drink, but he's changed. He found a girl, and he's smiled for the first time since I've been at this house. Thirteen years is a long time not to smile, and maybe I'll help Tony. Maybe together we can find our brother before it's too late. What's the odds of finding him? Slim to none, but I won't hurt Tony anymore. I'll help him, and maybe together we'll finally succeed.