My name is Marilee Evans, but I go by the name Jersey Sinclair. It was the name that I took after I lost my memory sometime back in January of 2014. I have a cat named Mew and a dog named Bear, both of which were given to me by my now ex-boyfriend, Peter Parkman to whom I was in a relationship for a year. My immediate biological family considered of Marlene and Gerard Evans, my parents who died when I was a teenager, and my older brother, Austin, who passed away on May 27th, 2015 after he stepped into traps left by another individual in the city. He held on for five days.
I have Kallista, Kelly, Nakia, Opal and Danton. They’re my family now. I have Clover, a friend of mine that knew me before I met Kallista and Peter. I knew her before I knew Opal, too. While I prefer my hair to be blonde, it’s naturally brown, almost black. I haven’t given enough of a damn to recolor it, as the chemical smell was even unpleasant before all of this, being even more so now. I work at Peppermint. I have green eyes, which are my favorite feature, and a tattoo on my hip that means nothing to me because I don’t recall the meaning to it.
I have two homes, although I’m still avoiding one of them. One belonged to Peter, who said I’m always welcome to be there, but since we split, I can’t convince myself to see him. It was a mutual split, I need to focus on myself, but I’ll always love him. I can feel it, like a missing piece of a puzzle. I do have his friendship, though, and it’s something I’ll always treasure.
I’m against violence, but only towards other people. There are creatures here that aren’t safe for humanity to know of. Fadebeasts, mooncalves, even the zombies, and because Kallista uses things from them in her rituals, I’ll do what I can to help her. I have an acute fear of blood, which has lessened over the year, but large amounts will still cause me to faint. Part of it, I’m guessing, has to do with the accident I had with the bus. Austin would claim that wasn’t something I’d do as a human. I haven’t made quite heads or tails of everything that he’d say.
As a vampire, I just know that it’s a weird habit. Having a ritualist and a mystic that bridged to Necromancer as a sire, however, has helped me cope. I don’t have the need to feed often on my own. I’m a Telepath that has bridged to Allurist.
My memory dates back to a year ago, and I’ve started to dislike that I don’t know who I am, who I was?
I don’t even know any more.