Callister, Samantha

[Sammy]

-0-0-0-0-Character Basics-0-0-0-0-

• NAME: Samantha Mae Callister
  
• ALIAS: Sammy
  
• BIRTH DATE: May 10, 1986
  
• AGE IN 2006: 20
  

-0-0-0-0-Appearance-0-0-0-0-

• LOOKS:
  • Height: 5'6"
    
  • Weight: 116 lbs
    
  • Hair Color: Brown
    
  • Other Details: A young woman of average height and scrawny build, Sam is relatively devoid of the curves that make a body seem feminine, but her face is youthful and bright, very expressive. Her dark eyes, lined by thick lashes, glitter with the emotions that can easily overwhelm her, very much windows into her soul. Her soft brown hair is worn down more often than not, draping down to touch just below her shoulder and framing her features in natural waves. Cutting it herself for years, however, has left it choppy with amateur layers. Her skin is smooth, free of ink and scars, and naturally tan, encouraged further by spending majority of her time out in the sun. Her prison blues, though something she cares for as well as she works to care for all of her flimsy possessions, are still often wrinkled, constantly being clutched and wrung in her anxiety or enthusiasm.
  
  
• PLAY BY: Odette Yustman
  

-0-0-0-0-Personality-0-0-0-0-

• OUTWARD PERSONA: First impressions of Samantha Callister are often easily forgotten. Quiet and withdrawn, she works to blend into the background as much as possible, majority of her survival over the years having relied on her ability to be invisible. She's wary, suspicious of the world around her and terrified of it. It's so much bigger than her and it can easily intimidate, just as many other things can. It doesn't take much to get her to back down; her spine is flimsy to the point of being practically extinct and her mindset is so accustomed to degradation that the prospect of standing her ground is beyond her comprehension. Though the years have molded her pretty successfully into the image of a beaten stray, her mind is dim and gullible. Kind gestures are rewarded quickly with her trust, leading her to latch firmly onto the hand that's fed her, and indiscretions are easy to forgive. She's a dependent being, able to provide for herself and yet unwilling to do so if an alternative is available to her.
  
  
• DEEPER DETAILS: Although skittish and meek, there's a lot of love and life buried inside the girl, a happiness that's been tucked aside by the repeated disappointments inside the past. Though not entirely what one could consider 'smart' in any sense, Sammy carries an avid thirst for knowledge around with her, always curious and eager to learn. Once coaxed out of her shell, smiles are much easier to come by, laughter a light and yet genuine thing to hear from her. While she needs and craves praise, desperate for affection and approval, there's a nurturing instinct inside of her own heart that compells her to care for those around her. She's a sensitive young woman, more tender and loving than she's ever really had the opportunity to express.
  

-0-0-0-0-Details-0-0-0-0-

• CAREER: N/A
  
• LOCATION: Fox River
  
• CRIME: Attempted robbery, possession of an unlicensed firearm, and second degree murder
  
• SENTENCE: Twenty years with parole in fifteen
  
• TOOLS OF THE TRADE: None
  
• AFFILIATION: None
  

-0-0-0-0-History-0-0-0-0-

• BIRTHPLACE: Pendleton, Indiana
  
• FAMILY: Melissa Callister, mother, 42; Janet Callister, grandmother, 74
  
• FRIENDS: N/A
  
• SCHOOLING: Homeschooled, educated to an eighth grade level
  
• HISTORY: Melissa Callister was a single highschool dropout at the age of eighteen when she gave birth to her first and only child. Having emancipated from her mother nearly two years prior, she lived on her own in a rundown apartment for one and received help with her daughter from a neighbour for a fee. Underneath the pressure of working two jobs and the sudden demands of a newborn, the teenager crumbled with stress and post-partum depression. However, she managed to hold things together for nearly six years before Social Services came to take the child away for negligence and poor living conditions, tipped off by an oh-so-concerned neighbour that had failed to receive her payment for babysitting.
  
  Shortly after being taken away, Sammy was sent to live with her grandmother, a tightlipped and sophisticated woman that insisted on calling her Samantha and accepted nothing less than perfection. She threw away all the dirty things that her grandchild came to her home with, replacing them with the nice things that could better support the image she wanted to present. She had come from nothing and she'd made something out of herself, no kid out of her own disappointing daughter would bring her back down. She refused to put the girl in a public school and, since no private school met her strict standards, the elderly lady opted to homeschool.
  
  With her studies, the growing child failed miserably. She had trouble focusing and was easily frustrated with her inability to grasp the subjects, but not nearly as frustrated as Janet was. Impatient and endlessly disappointed, she lashed out with hostile precision. Using the small closet beneath the stairwell as a 'time out zone', Samantha could and would be forced to spend hours locked in the confined space.
  
  After multiple attempts to run away, she eventually succeeded at fifteen years old.
  
  Going as far as she possibly could on the meager savings she'd managed to accumulate, Sammy adapted to life on the streets as best as could be expected. She slept on doorsteps, in alleys, and dug through trash bins. When she was able, she found room to stay a night or two in shelters. When she managed to get up early enough, she made it to breakfast, soup and sandwiches to warm her stomach, and she managed to stock up on clothes from charity bins.
  
  For a number of brief years, she was taken in by a working woman. She was given a clean bed on the sofa and there was a steady schedule of meals between them. In return for the kindness, she devoted herself to making life as easy as possible for them. She cleaned the apartment, kept it organized and welcoming. Given a budget, she took responsibility of the shopping, for groceries and other necessities, and occasionally allowed herself to purchase small gifts for her companion. To the best of her ability, she learned to cook so she could have dinner prepared already by the time the woman came home. She loved her and she felt loved in return. Until one night that the woman never came home.
  
  One lonely night turned into several. They stretched on and on, but Sammy tried her best to hold tight to the faith that the prostitute would come back. She kept the place clean, she made dinner for two each night, and she worked to keep the apartment their own. Eventually, however, the emergency reserve went broke and the landlord no longer accepted excuses. She was kicked out and forced to accept that she was alone again.
  
  It's unclear how the thought came into her head to hold up a convenience store, she never shared. It's most likely that the individual that gave her the gun planted it in her weak mind, but she never once sold them out. They were kind to her, they'd called her sweetheart in that raspy voice they owned and held her close when she'd been so cold that night; she couldn't betray them like that. So she didn't talk and police were only allowed access to the immediate facts. Sammy came in with a gun, her finger anxious on the trigger and her eyes terrified, but she aimed it at the shocked clerk. He managed to subtly press the button beneath the counter to alert the police, easily able to convince the girl that it wasn't a call for help at all but merely required to open the register. He was in the middle of slowly bagging up the contents of said register when movement in the peripheral startled. Whipping around, the gun was fired out of surprise - and the woman that had tried to make a run for it captured the bullet in the gut. She would die en route to the hospital.
  
  The trial was lengthy merely because the jury was torn, some jurors shocked by the death of a single mother of two and others touched by the meek woman that hardly seemed capable of the crime. It was easy to determine Sammy a submissive figure, but her unwillingness to reveal the aggressor that had prompted her soon earned little mercy in her sentencing as she was quickly shipped to Fox River Pentitentiary.
  

-0-0-0-0-Sample Posting-0-0-0-0-

The scenery wasn't anything special, but she kept her eyes firmly rooted outside of her window. She was small and her hunched posture only made her smaller, especially next to the overweight girl that shared the bus seat with her. Though locked inside of her own head, she was still wary of her surroundings, the details of the bus and its occupants filtering into her mind. Their window was open a crack, producing a shaky whistle as the wind whipped by. The side that she was pressed against was metal and cold, just like the cuffs about her thin wrists. Some people in the back were loud and raucous, singing and hooting, the trip to prison clearly no big deal to them. The woman that sat beside her shifted constantly, squirmed with anxiety though her face remained stony, and she took up most of their limited space. Being stuck like this made her nervous, but she kept her dark eyes focused out the window and her elbows pinned to her side.

It was a big blur, edges disappearing to present the bus ride as one vague memory locked into the back of her head. She was seeing the outside without actually taking it in, and she didn't realize how far away she'd been until she was surprised to find the prison taking up the view. She'd missed out on her last sight of freedom, watching it without ever really seeing it. Her throat felt dry and she swallowed nothing in the vain attempt to mend it.

Her stomach churned as the bus rolled to a stop, her fingers gripping the thin chain locking the cuffs together. Her lips pursed together for a moment before she was sucking in her bottom lip, nibbling at the chapped flesh as she drew in a deep breath. In her head, she stretched herself out and shook her head off, but her body failed to follow through and she remained crushed underneath an invisible weight. The rest of the bus rustled with growing tension, people eager to stretch their legs and get out of the sardine can, but Sam was in no rush to go anywhere. The prospect of having to go into that giant place terrified her and she wanted to run, take off and disappear. Her eyes darted about, still focused outside the window, watching everything as gates opened, prisoners gathered from the yard, and guards advanced on the idling bus.

Soon, a shouted command from up front stabbed into her nerves, making her flinch and dragging her gaze to the CO that was busy unlocking the barrier. Fish pushed out of their seats to fill up the aisle and Sammy felt fortunate that the girl beside her was in no rush to get out either.

Nonetheless, the bus emptied out and they were among the last to hop off the vehicle. She pushed herself close to the girl in front of her, hiding in the shadow provided by the sizable weight. She kept her scrawny arms tucked close and her head bowed down, watching the ground that passed beneath her. There were a number of hoots and hollers and threats, the deep sound of wanting men and the feminine croons of deceptive women. She pretended that she really was as invisible as she wanted to be and none of those cries were for her. None of the pictures painted in cruel tongues included her.

She didn't lift her eyes until they were approaching the entry way of the prison, the space for fish to swim on through and get processed into the aquarium. She studied the arch of the frame, the metal creaking of the door as it was held open for them by a guard. She tried to step closer to the woman in front of her, seeking shelter in the presence of a stranger that had said absolutely nothing to her for the entire trip, trying not to trip over heels and toes. The heat of the sun vanished from her back as they moved inside and Sammy couldn't recall ever dreading having a place to be so much before.

[Sara Tancredi]

A P P R O V E D