#privmarisol

CARSON: Hey.

CARSON: I just wanted to apologize for how shitty I've been. I got some decent sleep and started eating again, and I'm trying to take care of myself.

CARSON: I didn't mean to upset any of you, if I did.

WE THINK IN MINOR BUT SPEAK IN MAJOR CHORDS

MARISOL SERRONO-HART ➝ FIRST SIBLING

I'M YOUR BIGGEST FAN

❖ FULL NAME: Marisol Amparo Serrono-Hart. ❖ PRONOUNS: She/Her. ❖ AGE: 23. (April 27th). ❖ BIRTH ORDER: First. Adopted. ❖ GRADE: Tbd. ❖ MAJOR: Art, with a minor in Business. ❖ SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Pansexual. ❖ ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Panromantic. ❖ FACECLAIM: Eiza Gonzalez.

I'LL FOLLOW YOU UNTIL YOU LOVE ME

TW: Child abuse, death.

Life for Marisol didn’t start in L.A, as much as she wanted it to– it’s not clear if she doesn’t remember everything, or she chooses not to remember her life in Italy. There it was nothing but fear, she was the product of an affair, not wanted- not wanted in the slightest but by the grace of God, he gave her an angel of a mother. The woman that protected her from harsh words and even harsher fists, or at least tried- the woman that snuck her food when her father had deemed she wasn’t deserving on such necessities. She saw the fear in her eyes, with every day that passed- the fighter she saw in her mother grew stronger and stronger. That didn’t mean young Marisol didn’t hear the screaming, the sound of a slap, a punch, cries for it all to stop- her mother never stopped defending her. But her breaking point? That came when Marisol was 16 years old, what happened? She forgot to mention she had gotten a C on a History test, that a girl in her class was sharing her lunch with her every other day because all she would be given was stale bread. She remembers the anger in her fathers eyes, there was no…. no human left in him, only a monster and that would only ring true as lash after lash came onto her back.

She had enough, she had enough of the man that used her mother for her fame, for a voice as beautiful as angels; one that rang her to fame- but she… she her mother, and she wanted it to work, she wanted her daughter to have both parents. To the ones that followed her mother, they were a normal family; one that instead of living in the land of stars, chose a modest life for themselves, and that was all they say, all their family members saw.

There she was left, curled into herself- and at that young age, she was praying for death- she was praying something gentle, painless to take her and her mother away. What came next she doesn’t remember much, she remembered her mother coming into her room late at night, dressing her wounds and packing her a small bag, a promise of a new life, a better life. Marisol was confused on why they couldn’t stay together, she felt betrayed for a moment- but all she was told was that her mother would be leaving the monster of a lover she had- and Marisol was being put on a bus with a woman she recognized from church. She ended up running off at the last minute for one last hug, tears rolling down her cheeks and as she pulled away, her mother put a necklace around her neck- the pendant one of the sun, claiming that as long as she wore it, nothing could harm her. And that was something she took for the rest of her life, and as of present day she hasn’t taken it off.

Her mother was a smart woman, she had it all planned– she had been planning for the matter 5 months, the plan was getting her safety, to LA, to her family, her aunts, her cousins, ones she saw on holidays kept in constant contact with, but they were family none the less. Her mother had full custody of her- and it was being acted her aunt would be fostering her for the time being as her mother would be undergoing treatment for a sickness she didn’t have, a vacation of the sort for Marisol. The plane ride was long and painful, but luckily the pain had made her so tired she slept through most of it- the feeling of gentle fingers running through her hair lulling her to sleep every time she woke up. With her small pack of belongings, when they finally made it to the wanted destination, all she did was run to Melissa’s arms, to her aunts– she took comfort in her cousins, in a home that would feel that much of a home.

There she was safe, she had her own room, she was fed 3, sometimes 4 times a day- she was allowed to shower every night, or even take bubble baths. A part of her thought it was too good to be true, that her father would be coming in any day to take her back, but that day never came. It took her about a year to get comfortable in this home, she feared their hands but they were always patient with her. By the time she was 17, she had been adopted into the Hart family and nothing could of compared to that. It was magical to her and she was thankful each and every day. She worked at a small bakery since she was 17- first as a counter girl, to actually being in the kitchen, she was responsible, she was always one to make sure she took her job and studies seriously. That’s what her mother would want.

Now at the age of 21, she has been enrolled at PSU since her Freshman year, majoring in art and a minor in business; she has a home of her own- and it is a lot easier now that her son is in kindergarten to be able to get a sense of schedule in her life. One thing, since she was a teenager that Marisol loved, was tattoos. It all started with a little matching sun with her mother and it grew into now over 42 pieces over her entire frame, only more to add. When she was 19 she started an internship at a local famous tattoo parlor, one that took her in, in the current time she is one of their featured up and coming artists. She is in a place right now where she is happy, she lives each day for herself in the hope she’s setting a good example for herself, that she’s proving everyone wrong- every statistic wrong, all the while keeping her sanity. The harsh reality of her biological mother, their aunt, during the first years she was so scared, didn’t speak, while it paired with her fear, it came from the fact her father ended up taking out the abuse even more on her mother, she knew what she was doing. She knew her father was going to break soon, and her goal was to get her out as soon as possible, knowing what would happen. Maria Rose Serrono passed away 10 months after she had been sent away, so Marisol lives her life for her, she lives it for her family– for everything she will do.

BABY, THERE'S NO OTHER SUPERSTAR

Mari is covered in tattoos, from her neck down to her ankles; she truly believes that her body is a canvas and treats it as such. Given her inked skin, she is seen as more of a ‘punk’, but her style is very casual. Skinny jeans and v-necks are a staple for her, and any type of heel; she is seen as someone very cool headed, very open to friends; abit sarcastic, but what Hart didn’t have that trait? Even with a punk like label, she is very much a kind person; enjoys others company, has fears of being alone.

YOU KNOW THAT I'LL BE YOUR PAPARAZZI