Izabella Yaakov D4 DONE

IZABELLA YAAKOV

APPEARANCE:

Her long brown hair is a tangled mess falling down to the middle of her back. She stares at the mirror in front of her, breath slow and steady and she reaches up to touch her hair. Izabella strokes the dark brown strands; they feel brittle and dry as her slim fingers slide over them. She looks down at the metal scissors in her hand uncertainty fills her beautiful features. The scissors didn’t look right for gorgeous girl like her; they look like a weapon in the wrong hands. Slowly she raises the scissors to her hair and opens them wide. Izabella grabs a fist full of brown strands and cut them off, a look of wonder and sadness filling her face as brown hair falls to the ground. The sound of snipping scissors fills the room and the pile on the floor grows and grows with each movement. Izabella drops the metal weapon to the floor and runs her hand through her hair. Her gaze falls down to the pile of brown brittle hair on the floor and picks clumps of it up. She raises a handful to her tanned clear face and breaths the scent in. She drops the hair back on the ground and feels the burning of tears at the back of her eyes. She retreats away from the pile on the floor and curls up in a ball, her short brown hair sparkling with health.

Deep green eyes full of emotion reflects off the metal spoon Izabella holds in her hand. They are big and round, completed with thick black eyelashes framing them. She feels a smile of wonder and admiration creep onto her face, mesmerized in the spoons reflection. Her pink, fat lips turn into a pout as she looks with authority around the room, waiting for someone to compliment on her beautiful complexion. She stands her tall frame towering over the table and struts towards the door, her head held high. Izabella wears a tight fitting black shirt showing off her slender figure with a pair of old ragged jeans. She raises a thin brown eyebrow at a passing group of girls and a look of disgust shows on her face as the loud giggling of the girls reaches her ears. She opens the door carefully and walks out of the room a few admiring stares following her retreating figure into the sunlit morning.

PERSONALITY:

Isabella fluffed up her short brown hair as she approaches a table where a few young men sit. She feels a flirtatious smile lighten her face and she bats her eyelashes when the men turned to look at the newcomer. Izabella is known to be a big flirt with any good looking men. She loves to hear their admiration of her beauty and enjoys looks of adore. She gives them a sad little look and groans, “My hair just isn’t sitting perfectly today, don’t you think?” and that is when the men jump in to say how beautiful she was and that her hair looks perfect. Izabella flashes them a dazzling white smile and leaves the men staring after her in wonder and awe. Izabella believes she is the most beautiful and most attractive girl in the world, she believes that she tops all the women out there in the world. The most things in the world she loves is when men flatter her with compliments on how amazing and flawless she looked and that would put her in a good mood straight away. But things get a bit sticky when it comes to dealing with women.

A snarl starts to form on Izabella’s face as she walks towards her mother an air of confidence surrounds her. Her steps become louder as she comes closer to where her mother sits and she shoots an evil look towards her. “What do you want Mother? “Her voice is filled with impatience and hatred and she starts to tap her foot in agitation. “Why don’t you sit down with me and have a proper chat for once in your life with me,” her mother voice is filled with patience and kindness as she gestures the set next to her. “And what in the world makes you think I would sit and talk with you?” Izabella snorts and walks off leaving her mother gazing at with concern and longing. Izabella has a serious problem dealing with other women. She believes she is so much better than them and they are just obstacles in her way of getting what she wants and are just pains in the asses. She feels that if she is rude to every woman out there she will always stay on top and be the one a man always want and desire.

The sound of her footsteps brought her father rushing into the living room where she stands. Izabella’s hair was perfect and her eyes are full of life, energy and knowledge. Her father nod at her with approval and his gaze softened with fatherly love, her face seemed to glow even more because of his approval. That is all she ever wanted, to make her father happy and have his approval. She hands him a coffee and sits on the floor of the longue room her face radiant with happiness. The sound of creaking floor boards told her that her father had left to go to work. Isabella is a picture perfect daughter when she is around her Dad. Beautiful, intelligent and obedient, she’s what every father could wish for and more. She feels the need to prove herself to her dad and that it was everything she could want. She had no such obligation to her mother and sometimes wonders why her father ever married her, she was nothing important. Izabella only wants to be the most important person in her father’s life and possibly the life of her husband if she ever got one.

HISTORY:

Adrenalin thrummed through her as Izabella looked at the wooden blade in her hand, a glint of eagerness shining in her eyes. The blade foreign in her hands but she clasped the blade’s handle delicately, she was training to be a career. Her eyes trailed up to her opponent, a boy of sixteen who holds an identical wooden knife like hers. She could see a possessive hunger and a look of determination show on his face as he stared back unflinchingly. Was she really ready to hurt someone, another human being? Izabella and the boy started to circle each other, their breaths becoming ragged and their eyes full with concentration. The boy came leaping towards her the wooden blade outstretched in front of him. The tip of the blade slammed into her chest with full power, knocking her to the floor. She moaned in pain and gazed up at the boy standing over a triumph written all over his face. She felt her heart burn with sadness and despair as she realized that she would probably die in the games. She imagined her father’s face glower with disapproval watching her as she was beaten and the shake sad of his head. No she couldn’t be beaten in any fight; she couldn’t stand her father’s disappointment. She jumped to her feet a new energy filled her body, a new purpose of life.

Izabella looked at her father with pleading eyes, her lips trembled and tears stung her eyes. “Father I didn’t mean to break it. It slipped from my hands.” Her voice was weak and full of hurt. Her father stared down at the ceramic pieces on the floor that use to be a plate and then returned his gaze to his daughter’s tear streaked face. He let out a harsh laugh and snarled, “I don’t care you broke it you and you should be punished for your stupid actions.” He unwound the thick black belt from his waist and gripped it in his hands tightly, a look of cold fury on his face. He stuck out at Izabella who sat on the floor her face filled with terror. The belt came slashing down on her face, the sting of the hit made her cry out in pain. She brought her hands up to cover and protect her face that was now throbbing and coward under the black piercing stare of her Father’s. Her father kneeled down before her and his eyes softened and he soothed, “that was for your own benefit Izabella. I’m a strict father but I will love you no matter what.” He gently pushed back her brown hair and pressed a kiss to her forehead, stood up and left Izabella weeping on the floor.

Izabella sat in her bedroom staring out the window, watching the little children run by as the sun slowly sank below the horizon. The sky had streaks of orange and the dark navy blue crept lower and lower. She felt an ache of loneliness rise in her chest, wanting to be out there with the rest of the children, running around and for once feel the dirt clog her pores and smell the bitter smell of sweat. But no her father would forbid her from running around, he expected her to be the best and the most beautiful girl in the district. He would feel humiliated by such acts of childish behavior. Izabella would just be happy to talk to someone, to have an older brother that would stick up for her and take her around doing reckless things that could get them in deep trouble. But no she was left to her own imagination and stuck in her plain boring room for the rest of her life. “I don’t need anyone; I have my dad a mum and my beauty. That’s all that matters,” she repeated aloud hoping that it would be true. She could felt the loneliness gnaw at her heart and the emptiness of her room became overwhelming.