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Coraline Roberts never knew happiness as a child. From the start of pre-school, to the end of her lifetime, all of those around her deemed her as a worthless waste of space. From kindergarten to seventh grade, she was teased mercilessly by others. Her peers would do a variety of cruel things to her. They would comment crudely on her appearance. They would knock her belongings out of her hands and steal her lunch. At the worst of times, they would stuff fowl smelling and sticky things into her backpack and gym locker. Sometimes she opened her bag to find mashed potatoes, other times, she opened it to find it drenched in vinegar and cornstarch. There were even times when she found dead animals stuffed in her bag. So it was understandable, that Coraline was very unhappy as she grew up- and fate is a cruel mistress. Her parents did not care. She tried many times to plead with them for help, but she was ignored- and in that sense, neglected. Her parents never prepared any food for her, she had to cook for herself. What clothing they bought for her was cheap and worn out- she never wore a pair of shoes that weren't full of holes. School supplies were rummaged out of trashcans for her use. She slept downstairs in the basement, on a small pile of worn out bedsheets. It seemed the only companions she had were the rats, but that only lasted until the exterminator was called. For the first thirteen years of her life, she knew only torture and misery.
However, come eighth grade, she found a major change in how she was treated. Unfortunately, it was not a change for the better. For the next five years of her life, everyone ignored her. No one looked at her. If anyone knew her name, the acted as if they did not know it. People never made eye contact with her, and none ever spoke a word to her. It was as if in their eyes, she had completely disappeared. She did what she could to try and gain their attention- she even started acting out in class in an attempt to get the teachers attention. But no, even the teachers seemed unaware of her existence. So, it was only natural that her sanity would gradually slip away from her. Her mind changed as time passed, she developed an obsession with being noticed and being loved. At sixteen, she found a machete in her neighbors trashcan. She cleaned it until she could see her reflection, and sharpened it until it could slice cleanly through a piece of wood, then she drove it through her cheeks to create a permanent smile. She stitched her cheeks back together so that she would be able to eat and talk properly, then she set out to see if anyone noticed. No one, single, person, realized what she had done to herself. At seventeen, she took another step towards being noticed and gouged her eyes out with the tip of her machete, and she stuffed her empty eye sockets with black cloth to soak up the blood. She sat blind and waited for someone to make a comment, but no one ever did
So for a full year, she remained completely blind, before it dawned on her that there was one, last way, to gain peoples attention. Death. So, she somehow managed to stumble to her school, and she sat against the lockers with her machete in hand. Then, at the sound of the first bell, she drove the blade through the skin of her throat. As she died, she waited for the sounds of a scream- of any acknowledgment that she had slain herself. But the sound, never came. Instead, her corpse was retrieved from the school and brought straight to the morgue. At the morgue, the stitched up her throat to make her look presentable for an open casket. They gave her a short biopsy- cut open her chest to examine her insides, then they stitched her back up and set her in the casket. No one attended her funeral- not even her parents. No one at the morgue even knew her name. So when the buried her, they simply marked her gravestone with the name “Jane Doe”, and they went on with their lives. A worthless end to a seemingly worthless life- or so it seemed. A few days after the funeral, Coraline woke abruptly to find that she was lying on a table in the middle of a dimly lit room.
To her surprise, she could see again. She inspected her eyes to find that they were still stuffed with cloth. She pushed herself off of the table and looked around to find a full body mirror leaning against the wall. She stumbled over to it to have a look at herself, and she was surprised at what she saw. Her nude body was pale, like that of a corpse. Her eyes were black, her mouth a permanent smile. Stitches lined her throat and chest. Unable to look away, she put her hands against the mirror and stared at herself. She didn't advert her gaze until she felt something warm press against her shoulder. She turned her head to find a creature- a demon- peering down at her. Seven mouths were on its body, and it had huge black horns. Glowing red eyes, and sharp looking teeth. Before she understood what was happening, she found that she was crying- tears of blood leaded from her eyeless sockets and stained her pale body. The demon chuckled lightly and pulled her into a light embrace, then it spoke.
“Shed no tears, I know what you have been through...” The demon said calmly, his voice thick and deep. He ran his claws through her white hair, and continued to hold her gently.
“And I am here to give you what you desire... Become mine- become my servant- and I will give you the love and attention you were denied in your life...” He said calmly, before pulling away enough for her to look up at his face once more. More tears fell from Coraline's eyes as she looked up at the demon, and she wrapped her arms tightly around his frame shouting “I will serve you gladly!”. He wrapped his arms around her again and smiled wickedly.
“Very good... Now, my little proxy, you may refer to me as Lord ZALGO, and from now on, your name is Stitches...” ZALGO said happily. And with that, Coraline- no, Stitches's, story began. She adorned a black dress, one which revealed the stitches on her body. She took to wearing combat boots. Her weapon of choice, remained the machete she had used to claim her human life.
So, run while you can mortals, because Stitches sees all of you- and she wants you to notice her.

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

Coraline Roberts never knew happiness as a child. From the start of pre-school, to the end of her lifetime, all of those around her deemed her as a worthless waste of space. From kindergarten to seventh grade, she was teased mercilessly by others. Her peers would do a variety of cruel things to her. They would comment crudely on her appearance. They would knock her belongings out of her hands and steal her lunch. At the worst of times, they would stuff fowl smelling and sticky things into her backpack and gym locker. Sometimes she opened her bag to find mashed potatoes, other times, she opened it to find it drenched in vinegar and cornstarch. There were even times when she found dead animals stuffed in her bag. So it was understandable, that Coraline was very unhappy as she grew up- and fate is a cruel mistress. Her parents did not care. She tried many times to plead with them for help, but she was ignored- and in that sense, neglected. Her parents never prepared any food for her, she had to cook for herself. What clothing they bought for her was cheap and worn out- she never wore a pair of shoes that weren't full of holes. School supplies were rummaged out of trashcans for her use. She slept downstairs in the basement, on a small pile of worn out bedsheets. It seemed the only companions she had were the rats, but that only lasted until the exterminator was called. For the first thirteen years of her life, she knew only torture and misery.
However, come eighth grade, she found a major change in how she was treated. Unfortunately, it was not a change for the better. For the next five years of her life, everyone ignored her. No one looked at her. If anyone knew her name, the acted as if they did not know it. People never made eye contact with her, and none ever spoke a word to her. It was as if in their eyes, she had completely disappeared. She did what she could to try and gain their attention- she even started acting out in class in an attempt to get the teachers attention. But no, even the teachers seemed unaware of her existence. So, it was only natural that her sanity would gradually slip away from her. Her mind changed as time passed, she developed an obsession with being noticed and being loved. At sixteen, she found a machete in her neighbors trashcan. She cleaned it until she could see her reflection, and sharpened it until it could slice cleanly through a piece of wood, then she drove it through her cheeks to create a permanent smile. She stitched her cheeks back together so that she would be able to eat and talk properly, then she set out to see if anyone noticed. No one, single, person, realized what she had done to herself. At seventeen, she took another step towards being noticed and gouged her eyes out with the tip of her machete, and she stuffed her empty eye sockets with black cloth to soak up the blood. She sat blind and waited for someone to make a comment, but no one ever did
So for a full year, she remained completely blind, before it dawned on her that there was one, last way, to gain peoples attention. Death. So, she somehow managed to stumble to her school, and she sat against the lockers with her machete in hand. Then, at the sound of the first bell, she drove the blade through the skin of her throat. As she died, she waited for the sounds of a scream- of any acknowledgment that she had slain herself. But the sound, never came. Instead, her corpse was retrieved from the school and brought straight to the morgue. At the morgue, the stitched up her throat to make her look presentable for an open casket. They gave her a short biopsy- cut open her chest to examine her insides, then they stitched her back up and set her in the casket. No one attended her funeral- not even her parents. No one at the morgue even knew her name. So when the buried her, they simply marked her gravestone with the name “Jane Doe”, and they went on with their lives. A worthless end to a seemingly worthless life- or so it seemed. A few days after the funeral, Coraline woke abruptly to find that she was lying on a table in the middle of a dimly lit room.
To her surprise, she could see again. She inspected her eyes to find that they were still stuffed with cloth. She pushed herself off of the table and looked around to find a full body mirror leaning against the wall. She stumbled over to it to have a look at herself, and she was surprised at what she saw. Her nude body was pale, like that of a corpse. Her eyes were black, her mouth a permanent smile. Stitches lined her throat and chest. Unable to look away, she put her hands against the mirror and stared at herself. She didn't advert her gaze until she felt something warm press against her shoulder. She turned her head to find a creature- a demon- peering down at her. Seven mouths were on its body, and it had huge black horns. Glowing red eyes, and sharp looking teeth. Before she understood what was happening, she found that she was crying- tears of blood leaded from her eyeless sockets and stained her pale body. The demon chuckled lightly and pulled her into a light embrace, then it spoke.
“Shed no tears, I know what you have been through...” The demon said calmly, his voice thick and deep. He ran his claws through her white hair, and continued to hold her gently.
“And I am here to give you what you desire... Become mine- become my servant- and I will give you the love and attention you were denied in your life...” He said calmly, before pulling away enough for her to look up at his face once more. More tears fell from Coraline's eyes as she looked up at the demon, and she wrapped her arms tightly around his frame shouting “I will serve you gladly!”. He wrapped his arms around her again and smiled wickedly.
“Very good... Now, my little proxy, you may refer to me as Lord ZALGO, and from now on, your name is Stitches...” ZALGO said happily. And with that, Coraline- no, Stitches's, story began. She adorned a black dress, one which revealed the stitches on her body. She took to wearing combat boots. Her weapon of choice, remained the machete she had used to claim her human life.
So, run while you can mortals, because Stitches sees all of you- and she wants you to notice her.