Jada, 20 years young, grew up in the good life. Houses the size of small castles, luxury, chauffeurs and all.. everything. In that big mansion that her parents called home. It never had been one for her. Her parents had been workaholics for as long as she could remember them and possibly the worst match made in the world. So when they actually were home, they spent their time fighting. Verbally, physically. Using her as a pawn for their power-games. Her father wouldn't shy away from turning to his only child, his only daughter for comfort. In ways that she has never been able to mention to anybody. Her mother found comfort in the bottle of sherry that accompanied her on every step through the house, setting the perfect example for Jada to follow.

So that's what she did. From a young age on she started smoking. If her memory were not so affected she would be able to remember that she'd been 8 when she took her first cigarette, a year later her drinking started and by the age of 16 she had been fully consumed by alcohol, weed and the occaisional XTC. But somehow her grades remained straight A's and that's what landed her in a top college, destined for a top career. Little did anybody know around her that she was bound to crash and burn. And boy, did she. The education hadn't sparked her interest and she felt as if there was a vast akward distance between her and the other students. Jada simply didn't fit in. It didn't take her long to pick up the habit that she had gone to rehab for being only 18 years old then. Drugs. Anything that she could get her hands on would disappear into her body, whether it be cocaine, weed, alcohol..anything.

One day, around the time of the first exams, she flipped. Simply flipped. Everything in her shared dorm-room ended up destroyed and thrown out. She was raging, screaming, freaking out to the max. Campus security had to come in and force her to the ground before she had calmed down. But that moment defined her future, that was the moment that something inside of her had snapped and she could only escape it through more and more use of whatever she got her hands on. It was then that her parents in some twisted and uncomprehensable act of parenthood had made her move back in. Not that it helped any, it only made her determined to run away. On a moonless night, a night of the new moon, a night that marked new beginnings, she packed a few things together in a backpack. Her last stash of weed, a bundle of dollars, her small knife and her ID along with a few changes of clothes. Mindlessly she tapped the security code on the control next to the front door. Leaving everything behind, including her last chance of a sober life.

And there she was, Hathian. She had stood at the busstop scratching her arm, casually looking about. Unsure why her feet had led her here, but for now.. it seemed the right place to be. In a wrong kind of way.