The most dangerous sicknesses are those that make us believe we are well.

PERSONALITY

Open, imaginative, creative, comfortable with change (when it doesn't consist of her entire WORLD changing), can sometimes be impractical, great at thinking things through before acting, does her best to avoid unnecessary stress, tends to be a workaholic, a bit perfectionistic, extraverted, social, thrives in social activities, gets along well with others, considerate, friendly, does her best to benefit the group, popular, calm, emotionally stable, sometimes leans toward negative emotions (especially when focused on the past) though she tends to be seen as mostly an optimist, helpful, relaxed, composed, trendy, a bit on the progressive side, can lean toward giving up her own ideals for others when she feels there's a need to, takes life seriously but still knows how to laugh off the bad stuff.

APPEARANCE

5'2", brown hair, green eyes. Adores casual style (jeans, t-shirts, ankle boots, scarves, etc), but dresses up nice for nights out or when the occasion calls for it.

Fashion Inspiration

10 THINGS

01. Has a Maine Coon named Misty.
02. Loves Halloween best of all holidays, but Christmas is a close second, and Thanksgiving is an even closer third.
03. Adores clicky-games. Anything that can be played by clicking her phone's screen makes her stress melt away.
04. Has a weird obsession with America's Next Top Model. She knows it's ridiculous, but whatever. She drinks wine and watches girls be catty. It's nowhere near as terrifying as the Kardashians..
05. Has never gone more than a week without contacting her big sister!
06. Is allergic to grass. The spring and summer is pure hell. She lives on allergy meds 80% of the time.
07. Learned to knit after her fiance's death as a way to keep her hands and mind busy.
08. Loves to read, and will easily read a book in a week. When she is trying to shut off her thoughts, she can read a large novel in three days.
09. Collects owls.
10. Addicted to Diet Pepsi, rye bread, and mac and cheese.

ABOUT

August 12, 1987, rang bright and true, and normal as anything. Normal, that is, other than the air of anticipation that started in the Perry household as Maribel-38 weeks and five days pregnant-realized that the braxton hicks contractions she had been feeling for weeks were suddenly quite a bit more pronounced. In fact, they hurt, and when she started timing them, a pattern emerged. First 20 minutes apart, which was nothing to worry about, then 18, then 15, then 10... and finally 8. She called the hospital, and they told her to stay at home until the contractions were 5-6 minutes apart. Eight minutes. Eight minutes. Eight minutes. And then came the rush of fluid from between her legs, and she called again. It had been hours, by this point, and the nurses told her it was time to come in. They strapped her to a monitor, and the family watched the ebbs and flows of the contractions on the paper as it unfolded from the machine. Eight minutes. Eight. Eight. Seven.

Checks were done, and though the baby appeared to be dropping down, it still wasn't time to push. The family settled in for a night at the hospital, with hopes that the baby would be born by the time the sun came up. Seven minutes. Seven. Six. Maribel finally closed her eyes and forced herself to sleep between contractions. It was fitful at best, but it was better than nothing, and when the sun came up, she decided it was time to do whatever she could to get this whole thing moving. She got up out of bed and walked the halls of the hospital floor, stopping every time a contraction came to breathe and moan and rock herself forward and back while she stood in place. And as she walked, she rubbed her stomach and encouraged the baby that it was time to come out. "Stubborn little thing," she said over and over again, "we want to see you, please. Come on." She walked for almost two hours before the nurses made her go back to her room, but all the hard work paid off. When they checked her, all systems were go.

Twenty-five minutes later, Dahlia Rae Perry came into the world with one bleat of a cry, then she seemed to watch the hospital staff as they cleaned her and prepared her to be with her family. She settled into her Mother's arms, then her Father's, then Reenie, and Eric's. Once she'd been passed from one to the next, she closed her eyes and fell asleep, seemingly unconcerned with what else was happening in the world. She was safe, and home, and that was all that mattered.

Dahlia was a happy baby, and that disposition stayed with her a vast majority of the time she as growing up. In school, she made friends easily, and though she never stood out as a leader in her group of friends, neither was she the low man on the totem pole. She ruled the world from the middle of the group, happy and popular. She showed herself early to be the kind of child who was always ready to play pretend, and if her friends couldn't come up with worlds to play in, she would happily create them for them. And if she was feeling uninspired, she would simply pull from any of the books she had read. One day she was Jo March, strong and proud and stubborn, the next she was Diana Berry, best friend to Anne Shirley from Green Gables, the day after that Lucy from The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Sometimes even her dreams were the playground of all of her story friends.

Even as she grew too old to play at childhood games anymore, Dahlia still found her mind wandering to the books she found and read constantly. Sometimes she knew she came across as a bit of an airhead, since when she wasn't actively sitting with her head in a book, she was often thinking about them. But all of that changed when Kaden Cross came into her life. She and Kade were much too young to fall in love, but Dahl had grown up on love stories and happily ever afters, and it didn't matter to her that she was only fourteen when she fell in love with Kaden. It was true, and it was real, and she knew they were going to have that same kind of love story. Not Romeo and Juliet, because people died in that, but maybe Anne and Gilbert from Anne of Green Gables, or Jo and Professor Bhaer (or even Amy and Laurie) from Little Women... Some big romantic thing. It was destiny.

But teenagers are fickle, and Dahl and Kade grew apart after a few months, and that was okay. They both made stupid decisions. They both hurt each other. It wasn't until they were in their early 20's that they two of them met again, on much better ground. And like all of the good love stories... the real ones, they came together again. Eight months later, Kade proposed to her in the middle of a rainstorm, the two of them soaked to the bone and laughing until he asked, and then they both got serious. She said yes, and they laughed again, and everything was right with the world. And maybe it would have stayed right, but the world somehow manages to balance good with bad sometimes. Dahlia was late for work at the salon one morning, and she gave Kade a super fast kiss on her way out the door. He told her he'd see her after work. From reports afterward, he drove to his office in the city, parked his car, and never got out. The car was off, and it took until lunchtime for his coworkers to suspect something was wrong. They approached his car, and he was there, dead of a brain aneurysm.

For Dahlia, the day had been normal. She cut and colored hair, she talked with her friends, and she looked through the stack of wedding magazines her boss kept in the back room for her on her break. She went home fifteen minutes late to make up for being a little late in the morning. It wasn't until her phone rang and Kade's Mom's name came up on the caller ID that she even thought about how late he was. An hour and a half. She picked up the phone, expecting to have a long chat about the wedding, and instead the sound of sobs reached her ears. Her heart sank, and she knew before Ellie Cross even said the words. All she needed to hear was the how. She hung up the phone, curled up in bed, and slept for the next two days. It was only her family that could bring her out of it. She wouldn't hear 'I'm sorry'. She wouldn't take their pity. When they were there, she got up, and she functioned, and she moved on. She wore widow black. She went to the funeral and stood beside his parents. She was a pillar of strength, or so it appeared on the outside. Inside, she was screaming. Inside, she was raging. But the outside was a perfect, polished doll.

Over the months, she realized the worst parts of Kade's death. The calls that came from creditors and people who didn't know. The way the house felt empty, but never empty. How she expected to turn a corner and find him standing and waiting for her with open arms. The house was too quiet. Six months after the funeral, a check came in her name. Kaden's life insurance policy listed her as the beneficiary. She bought herself a Maine Coon cat she named Misty. She taught herself how to knit. She eased herself back into life. Meeting up with friends, going out drinking with coworkers, laughing, reading, living. The first time she took a guy home, she had a panic attack. The next time was easier. It helped that her family told her that Kaden would have hated seeing her fall apart. So she stopped falling apart.

That's not to say that everything is easy. It's been just over five years since Kaden died. Just over six since they stood in the rainstorm and he proposed. There are still days it aches to hear his name, or to think about going on with her life without him. Days it tears her into a thousand tiny pieces to think she can't run and tell him some joke she's heard, or a story about her friends. But every day gets a tiny bit better, and something tells her that one day she'll look into another man's eyes and feel that same spark of wonder at how much she loves him. And when it happens, she'll do her best to be ready for it. Until then, she's got books, and Misty, and her family and friends, and glasses of dark wine that taste of cherry and peach. She's okay. More than okay. She's happy. The rest will come. It always does.