Father: Jarek Vlček / Mom: Karina Vlček - Adopted Father: Thomas Winter / Adopted Mom: Lisa Winter
Skinny, like really skinny.
long, brown and slightly curly
- Nature -
- Languages -
- Animals -
- Trying to make friends -
- Oversized Hoodies -
- Music -
- Swimming -
- Singing -
- Food -
- Gaining weight -
- Judgmental people -
- Gunshots -
- Her shyness -
- Stupidity, basically people who talk first before they think -
- Places with many people -
Tattoos: - little wolf on her shoulder -
Injuries: - Heavily bruised face -
- Stab wound at her left hand -
- Shot wound at her left ankle -
- Deep and long cutting at her left arm to the bone / muscle damage - (18.2.2018)
I guess I wasn't the lucky one in life. When I was only 4 years old my parents died in a big fire. The fire destroyed our house and my parents were trapped inside while I was playing in the backyard. There was nothing I could have done. I only remember their screams and my crying and sadly just came to late. I didn't had any relatives which could have taken me in after my parents died so I came into an orphanage.
I was rather quiet and calm as a child who had problems making new friends. I just didn't know how to approach new people. After a few years in the orphanage an elderly, at least for me, couple adopted me. They moved from Germany to Chernarus since they lost everything back there and they had friends over here who helped them out. I finally had a family again but not everything is as good as it seems. When I was 8 years old my adopted father lost his job and were drunk nearly every day. We moved to a little town called Olsha and I spend a lot of time at Black Lake. He let out his frustration at my adopted mother and again I felt helpless, without any control about the situation. I couldn't do anything about it and my adopted mom didn't wanted to call the police. Over the time I slowly began to eat less and less. It was the only thing I had control over. My weight. I was always self critical. I didn't like how I looked and lost weight especially because I had the feeling that nobody wanted me in the orphanage. I was obsessed with my weight and my appearance and nobody noticed that I was slowly fading away. My mirror and my scale are my worst enemies and my best friends depending on the number shown on it. I like to write poems and other stuff so I can express my feelings. The only witness is my diary hidden under my mattress. I guess I am just good at hiding. When my mom called for dinner I said I already ate or I secretly made the food disappear.
"Mirror, mirror...Can't you see?
What you show...
Is killing me...."
Years passed and I grew older. I never really got over my shyness and so I kept to myself most likely. Even in school I never really made any close connections. I tried to break out of my shell when I accepted the job at a local bar as a waitress and things were going good for once besides of my eating habits. I just can't get better with it. I don't know what to do. I promised my mom that I would help her financially so she can leave her abusive husband. I just had to work hard for a long time so we could afford a new place to live. When I was 18 years old I fulfilled myself a dream of getting a tattoo of a little wolf as a memory of my real parents.
When everything when to shit we were staying at home for as long as we could.... but that didn't last for long. My adopted father was the first one to fall to the infection. My mom and me fled afterwards into the woods running into the north till she also died due the infection. I was alone ....again. Like I was when my family died when I was a child and I felt empty again. I never really stayed with people like always I kept to myself. I saw people banding together and fighting each other. Maybe someday I will find a family once again.