Board Thread:Creation Box/@comment-26143380-20150224230658

Gender: Female.

Birthday: March 25th, 1996.

Face claim: Camila Cabello.

Family/Housemates: Mother; Eloisa Mirabella. Father; Giulio Mirabella. Brother; Marco Mirabella (however she is in America on her own).

Address: She resides in the Brightside Motel on Wirralee Way due to the inability to rent out an apartment.

Personality:  Since she had held the happiest of hearts, the kindest of souls, and the most open of minds throughout her life, most would be shocked to learn that she is now entirely divergent. After the incident, Valentina immediately locked her heart up and tossed away the key. She never lets anyone in, and, in fact, is not nearly as happy as she once was. Rather than joy and curiosity dancing through her imagination, her life has now become a tedious repetition of solemnity and caution. No longer is she the happy person all had known and loved. She is now now bitter, the light no longer pouring through her wide, brown eyes, nor her bright smile. A darkness has overtaken Valentina, and returning to Italy is far from anything she desires, so she can be quite the loner. Although not being too much of a cheerful girl anymore, there still lies that small glimmer of hope deep down inside of her. She wants to be proven wrong— she wants to be assured that love isn’t something made up. Unfortunately, though, Valentina is stuck at a dead end. Some words others might use to describe her would be stoic, candid, diffident, and nihilistic. Although she is decently fluent in English and has been in America for some time now, she still harbors quite a heavy Italian accent, also not always being grammatically correct on some occasions, as well.

History:

''"Remember, Bellissima; plant seeds of love in the very ground you run upon, and, if you remember to water and care for it, something will begin to grow that is the most beautiful of all things you’ve ever laid your eyes upon. Occhio non vede, cuore non duole." ''

Born among the streets and buildings of Florence, Italy, young Valentina Mirabella was a lighthearted, convivial girl. She derived from a large Italian family that always kept happy hearts and bright smiles that never faded. From as long as she could remember, she was taught to spread love and extinguish hatred from her life; there wasn’t ever a time when little Valentina didn’t see the good in others. Her grandfather was always one of the highly influential people in her life. When times became troubled, it was always him to scoop her up in his arms and comfort her— whether it was by telling old Italian fables, or an encouraging sequence of words, he never failed to eliminate the sadness she harbored. As the years passed by and Valentina had begun to grow into an elegant young lady, it was soon before she longed for more. Where she lived, enveloped around a blanket of lush, green grass and azure skies, was absolutely breathtaking. However, the brunette dreamed of traveling across the world. Meeting new people, embracing different cultures, and having the ability to learn to love in another country caused stars to glimmer in her eyes. The very thought of it seemed so thrilling and captivating, and, as she was raised to always believe, nothing would stop, nor slow down, her persistence. It wasn’t always easy to keep pushing, though.

She continued to work her way through classes and schooling, saving every bit of money she could to add to her slowly, but surely, growing jar. Her ambition was stronger then ever, and, even still, she managed to constantly love. By the time her eighteenth birthday rolled around, her collection of euros had grown, yet it wasn’t close to being nearly enough. Valentina kept on hoping for the best, but it eventually reached that point where she wasn’t sure whether or not it was meant to be. On the night of her birthday, gifts from friends and family included miscellaneous odds and ends she was quite grateful to have received— clothing, new music, and other simple things were among what she had been given, as well as a new set of luggage from her mother and father. They grinned and told her that it would come in handy when the time came, and, although doubtful, the girl nodded and thanked them kindly. It wasn’t until she opened the final envelope— until her heart began pounding through her chest— that her drive was soaring once more. Her grandfather had bought her a one-way ticket to the destination of her choice.

After a year of joyous tears, preparation, and final goodbyes, Valentina was soon on the plane from Italy to New York City. Although slightly nervous, she couldn’t wait to set foot in the concrete jungle and start her clean slate. The city in particular was like nothing she had ever experienced back at home— it was grimy and filthy, populated to the rim with interesting personalities. None of that mattered, however, when the flashy, colorful signs inhabited her vision, and the different aromas, sensations, and sounds caused her to see it in a different light. As she didn’t have much American money, with the exception of some she’d been gifted before her departure from family, she checked into a small, run-down motel. The entire place was covered in chipped paint, most of the electrics were down, and it wasn’t necessarily the ideal residence for many, though Valentina didn’t mind. It simply made the experience even better. It wasn’t until a couple of days in the city before she met him.

Casually making her way to a nearby coffee shop, her stroll was interrupted by jet black hair filling her vision as the burning sensation of hot coffee seeped through her newly purchased, ‘I Heart NY’ sweatshirt. An abundance of apologies were rambled by the male whom she had been bumped into by. His hazel eyes spoke more than his mouth, and the fact that her souvenir clothing piece was soaked with over-priced coffee didn’t even matter; she knew she had to treat this man with the highest amount of kindness possible.

Now, Valentina hadn’t planned to find love during her trip, yet the way things had gone from that moment forward were beginning to convince her otherwise. It didn’t take long before she had spent half a year with his fingers wrapped up with her own, sneaking gentle kisses as they walked through the streets. Everything seemed to have happened so quickly, but Valentina was loving with all of the love she kept in her heart, and it was good. Life was slowly drifting by as if it were a dream, and she had never experienced a feeling quite like this. He let her stay with him in his apartment, keeping her from the shady motel. Valentina opened herself up to her coffee shop lover, not a doubt in her mind that this was meant to be. Unfortunately, she was quite mistaken.

He pounced. Christopher, her seemingly-so man, grasped at her open and loving soul with dirty, oily fingertips. He carved invisible scars etched throughout her mind, and he stole one of the most precious things a human can have; her virginity. Like a thief in the night, he ripped her of every foundation of innocence she had grown upon. No longer was Valentina whispering sweet nothings of ‘Ti Amo’ into his ears, but rather was shouting and crying with all of her might, ''‘Why do you do this? Basta!’ ''It was the worst feeling to know that someone you let in had the audacity to take advantage of the girl who had fallen in love with them. She had never been so upset in her life. Kicked out the door while tears were streaming down her puffy, red cheeks, it became evident that she had been fed lies throughout her entire life. There was no use in seeing the good in others, as good doesn’t truly exist— at least not there, it didn’t.

Valentina was left helpless, with no where to turn to. By bus, train, and hitchhiking, she eventually landed herself in Miduna Beach, finding residence in another motel. It was quite similar to the one in New York, but not quite as run-down. What is she doing now, you might ask? She works a couple of blocks down the street at Joe's Steakhouse throughout the week, and every night, after arriving back to her room, she showers and scrubs her skin ‘till it’s red and raw, refusing to admit that the motel water will never be enough to rid her delicate skin of his touch.

Describe your character in a word: Broken.

How your character would describe him or herself in a word: Alive, but certainly not lively. 