PERSONALITY: Mandy might be considered a grab bag of various extreme personality traits, which makes her often volatile and always unpredictable. The combined fact of her status as an only child and her parents drive and focus surrounding their careers has resulted in a deadly concoction of neediness, entitlement, and a general yearning for attention. Though that sounds rather like any spoiled child, Mandy is not your typical indulged madame: she isn't fussy or vain, she doesn't demand everyone treat her as a Queen, and she certainly would never embody the mock title of 'princess'. Her demanding nature more or less comes out in other, more subtle ways, ways that tend to make one feel as if they've just been hit by a hurricane upon her departure from a room. As is also the case with her looks, there tends to be little middle ground when it comes to liking or disliking Mandy; she exudes a sort of innate confidence which people either find endearing or maddening. More often than not, people find they simply don't have the energy required to be her friend, which leaves her with a close circle of a few and larger pool of vague acquaintances. By her very opinionated nature, it can be assumed that everyone, at the very least, knows of Mandy. Taking any great steps to deepen the acquaintance to anything more solid is another question altogether.

From an early age, Mandy has proven herself unafraid to try new things. Adventurous to a fault, it's not a surprise the Sorting Hat considered Gryffindor for a few uncomfortable minutes before finally placing her in Ravenclaw, where she was certain her best friend would follow. If curiosity has killed the cat, then Mandy's had decidedly better luck - but just barely. Her ability to sniff out a story and doggedly pursue it has both made her a wonderful candidate for journalist and has put her in more than her fair share of uncomfortable situations. Being that her parents both pursued careers which not only afforded, but necessitated travel, this sense of always being picked up and carted about has never really given the young girl a sense of a center. Her center has always had to remain within, her home being more of a stopping ground than a place of comfort and stability. Perhaps it is this that has resulted in her fervent love of Chelsea in general, but it is the self same circumstances which have made her eager to see the world and to travel. Coupled with a formidable store of energy, and it seems as if she might be able to travel the world in one night; with little sleep required in order to properly function, if Mandy grabs hold of something there's no telling when she'll let go. Be it a film project or a juicy bit of gossip, her curiosity coupled with her wide-eyed wonder can make her rather something of a demon.

This sense of the adventurous isn't always a positive trait, though it can often help her in her quest to be more shocking and outrageous than an "I snort my own father" rockstar. The sense of being invincible is often reckless, foolish, and dangerous. A complete daredevil, Mandy cannot back down from a challenge: if you say jump, she'll say how high, and consuming what illicit substance? The latter is an exaggeration, but that isn't to say that Mandy's sense of adventure doesn't err on the side of devious behaviour. Her need for attention comes through the most shiningly here, when she does something foolish simply because she's been asked too. A dare is as powerful as putting her under a truth serum and asking her to give her life's story: she won't stop until she's proved she can do something. The same innate characteristic which has her trying every odd-looking dish at some exotic restaurant is the one which also had her smoking at twelve and stealing from her parent's liquor cabinet at fourteen. She may not be a juvenile delinquent, but she certainly enjoys testing the waters with her toes and pushing the boundaries if given the opportunity. Combined with the affluent and slightly subversive nature of her Chelsea neighbourhood, it isn't difficult for children of her age to find themselves in a little bit of trouble. Breaking curfew, throwing parties while her parents are away: name any clichéd form of standard teenage rebellion, and Mandy has the t-shirt, in three sizes.

Perhaps, as some poets have contended, this need to experience on steroids adds to her art. Prematurely, she likes to think of herself as a visionary, though at least on this point she'd never be vocal. Mandy tends to see the world a little differently than others, which has translated itself into a passion for film and an honest to goodness gift in its creation. Having been surrounded by this particular medium her entire life, some are swift to argue that Mandy's just a privileged child who was given a camera instead of a rattle thanks to her dad. Generally speaking, they wouldn't be wrong. But unlike her father, things tend to come out differently on Mandy's reels: a little over-the-top, sometimes uncomfortably candid, but always raw and striking. She isn't afraid to try new things, to expand possibilities; why should two plus two equal four when six is such a nicer number? Maths and biology don't interest her; the confining nature of science and progress only lead to over-simplified answers which she doesn't care for. It's the big questions, which can be answered, about life and the pursuit of happiness, which catch her fancy. Testing the limits isn't relegated to a premature romp with someone she only met two weeks before. Rather, it's about a history of revolutions, of people refusing to shut up. That's what Mandy revels in. So while her talents are still waiting to be streamlined and honed, she has all the making for someone with a pioneering vision. For this reason, there are moments when an idea flashes before her and she can't be found for days on end. It's part of her charm! Or maddening frustration, depending on your stance.

For all her grande and lofty ideas, following through can be another matter altogether. Inherently patient and unable to suffer through the trials of creation, Mandy adheres strictly to a policy of instant gratification: if it doesn't feel good in the moment, then what's the point? It's this that made the majority of her education so trying. Despite being obviously bright, she absolutely refused to apply herself to subjects which didn't interest her. Anything cut and dry, such as maths and science, seemed absurd and worthless. Sitting down and doing her work was a chore she wasn't interested in; unless something came to her naturally (as the previously mentioned subjects did not), she wasn't willing to try. It was as simple as that. The same holds true when it comes to other people, and while she isn't a snob when it comes to material things, she certainly doesn't have the time of day for someone who acts like a complete imbecile. She goes out of her way to be rude to some people and can come off as harsh, even bitter. This snobbery knows no house boundaries, and it's just as likely that it will be directed in the direction of a fellow Ravenclaw as it is at a Hufflepuff or a Gryffindor. As a matter of principle, Mandy feels that anybody who exhibits traits she deems as 'socially retarded' ought to have it pointed out to them in the most black and white terms possible. Her impatience can at times give way to violent temper, which exhibits the oft-spoiled clichés of an only child. Despite being aware of her friends' feelings, particularly those of Lisa, her sentimentality doesn't extend much beyond. Very selfish, Mandy is all but unaware of matters such as money and the tribulations of others. She can't stand when she doesn't get her share of attention and isn't used to making sacrifices. Compromise is a word which has only ever entered her vocabulary as a facet of an essay; it certainly has never occurred to her to use it in the everyday.

As a whole, Mandy is a dynamic grab-bag of extreme traits, which are often ugly and dangerous on their own. Despite some terrible habits and an inability to see the forest for the trees, she isn't an entirely horrible person. Quick-witted and confident, she has the ability to light up a room and make people laugh, and when she isn't on some mission to find and torture whoever touched her camera, she's good for stirring up a good dose of excitement and drama, often of the good-natured variety. Though her bark is more often than not much worse than her bite, her temper and impatience can be a point of contention with her peers; to say that she's made as many friends as she has enemies in her time at Hogwarts would most likely be true. But when you pull everything back and dig a little deeper, Mandy's really just any average teenager, fascinated with the human capability of communication, and attempting to navigate an otherwise unfriendly modern age. She's far from perfect and a little louder than most people would like, but she's also a lot more than the simple sum of her parts.

DEFINING CHARACTERISTICS: Everything about Mandy screams unique, a quote directly from the horses mouth. In reality, there isn't so much that sets her apart from any other sixteen-year-old girl, save an avid interest in discovering the world. She seems such a paragon of self-awareness and inward intuition that she completely blasts through life without slowing down, missing along the way some very obvious lessons. Her political ideas and opinions, though so loud in volume, have yet to be fully shaped and molded, and her inherent sense of justice is a little out of whack. What sets Mandy out from anyone else is her bravado, and complete disregard for the fear of making mistakes. Instead, she revels in her mishaps, her bump-ups, and wants nothing more to be able to exit the world with a laundry list of everything she's ever done wrong. Mandy's world is one of hyper-reality, where a day not spent pushing the limits is a day not worth living. She simultaneously is completely driven toward one goal of artistic freedom and yet completely lacking any direction. She's a three-year-old girl wearing her mothers' clothes and make-up, and for the life of her she simply can't see it.

LIKES: Lisa, film, revolutions, Blur, Chelsea mornings, extremely strong coffee, Oscar Wilde, languages, milk chocolate, France, cigarettes, film noir, epigrams, London, cranberry vodka, cussing, travel, cats, Marc Jacobs, vintage clothing, violence, rugby matches, protests, post-modernism, the smell of books, really awful poetry, street signs, sushi, female vocalists, sunglasses.

DISLIKES: Sleeping in, cold weather, religious fanatics, vanilla anything, Oasis, pop music, the taste of beer, mosquito bites, driving slowly, the countryside, the thesaurus, fantasy fiction, most chick flicks, gum popping, mouth breathers, milk, her Grandmother, Hebrew lessons, her eyebrows, Lisa's fabulously bad sense of fashion, Jane Austen, calendars, graveyards, hospitals.

INSIDE SCOOP: 001: Mandy wants her parents approval so much more than anyone could imagine. Some people might see why she's acting out, but it's more likely that most people put it down to a simply character flaw. Despite the fact that she often is very dismissive about her parents, and claims to love the literal freedom she's afforded, nothing could be farther from the truth. From her film to her bad habits, everything is one giant plea for attention that continuously goes unheard. Like it or not, Mandy emulates them in more ways than she'd ever be able to admit too

002: Mandy comes off as fearless, but she suffers from a lot of anxiety. Mostly, she's petrified of the idea of death. Not in the uneasy, tentative way most people are; she literally stays up some nights unable to sleep, feeling as though she'll be sick to her stomach. Despite having had a fairly religious upbringing, she can't find it in herself to have faith, and is constantly reading conflicting theories surrounding God and theology. Sometimes it gets so bad that she makes herself sick worrying, and on these nights she generally takes to reading a book down by the common room fire.

003: Mandy is under the distinct impression that no one will ever fall in love with her. It's not so much an anxious musing as much as it is an accepted fact; she views herself as the sort of girl most guys go for in adolescence, as she provides them with something a little out-of-the-ordinary. In essence, she believes she's a good time girl. She's not quite sure how she feels about the possibility, but sometimes throws herself little pity parties that generally result in tubs of ice cream mysteriously disappearing.

004: No matter how many times people tell her, and she tells people, that her film work is brilliant, a part of her doubts she'll actually make it. It doesn't help that she sometimes finds the romantic comedies she slams so endearing, or that she didn't actually get that last film noir she and Lisa rented, no matter how much she raved about it. Her tastes generally are cultured, but she comes off a little more pretentious than she actually is, and doesn't honestly think Four Weddings and a Funeral was a piece of flaming shit.

HISTORY: To understand Richard Brocklehurst, and subsequently his daughter, one must first taken in his entire family. Like most, the heavy baggage of familial ties has weighed heavily in the shaping of Mandy, and her story cannot be told without theirs. The Brocklehursts are an old family of moderate wealth, living on the fringe of upper-crust society and taking on a staunchly neutral stance on most political issues of any great import. They are neither lavishly rich, nor are they by any means destitute; their sphere of influence is small, though present, and they live on the modest . Byron Brocklehurst was a soft-spoken man, whose family pushed him onto the daughter of a wealthy connection in the hopes of somehow elevating their estate; while the match was less than ideal, Margaret came along with a hefty inheritance and a myriad of family connections. She also came with a large mouth, an aggressive set of opinions, and the distinctly bad taste that she'd been duped into marrying someone who was, though hardly poor, not of her families ranking. Byron, a fairly successful barrister, allowed Margaret to rule the home and she quickly took on the mission of making something of the Brocklehurst family. Eradicating the old staff and replacing it with the new, she did what she could with the more modest income and produced four children, all of which were carefully combed over and bred up well in order that they might be the utilitarian, upstanding citizens they ought to be. Her four eldest children, Alfred, Ann and Edgar, attended the conservative Edick College; by Richard, the family had acquired rather more money, and though she was hesitant -- run by a bunch of good for nothing bleeding liberals, as far as she could tell -- there was no arguing that the crème of the crop attended the prestigious Hogwarts College.

According to Margaret, that is where everything went wrong. Free from the confines of his mother's overbearing rule, Richard explored his interests in the arts and took a particular liking to the creation of film. It was a time of much political upheaval and unrest, the seventies fraught with the youth, unhappy with the state of world affairs. Much to his mother's dismay, Richard became one of the bleeding liberals she'd always feared, according to her, anyway. According to anyone else, the Ravenclaw prefect was simply a man who'd had his eyes opened to the larger picture, and was intent on capturing it on film. It was with this in mind that he set out to capture the world on 3mm, leaving England in the dust in favour of hostels and the hospitality of others. The Brocklehursts were quite ashamed of their hoodlum of a Bohemian son, and only continued to communicate with him because he was, after all, their baby. Despite this grandiose view of the world, Richard eventually returned to England as he'd run out of money and was tired of sleeping on floors. Ironically, it was upon his return from the Middle East that he by chance met Thea Sudai, a young Israeli woman who had taken up an office in the English government in order to report on the humanitarian crisis of her home. Inspired, and very much in love, Richard began a documentary charting a young Israeli soccer team, which won him dotted acclaim and more importantly, funding.

As Thea and Richard began their courtship, the Brocklehursts became more and more disgruntled with their sons behaviour. Margaret ordered an intervention, but Richard had such an easy way about him that no one could remain made for long. In 1978, a year after meeting Thea, his first feature-length film was produced and, upon premiere night, he popped the question. No matter his family's grievances with the pretty Jewish girl, who'd do nothing but wreak havoc for their poor motherland, it was settled. Within a year, their career stars on the rise, Thea and Richard were married and living in Chelsea, with a baby on the way. It hadn't been intentional, and Thea was starting to get cold feet. With her mother a continent and a mother-in-law who had only been made a mother by some large, over-arching cosmic joke, the 28-year-old began to wonder if she had it in her. Now working as a go-between for the English government and the United Nations, she suspected her time was limited and that she didn't have what it took to bring up a child. Fate had decided otherwise, and to help with the transition was a chance encounter with Leanne Turpin, a secretary of the Crown Prosecutor and a soon-to-be-mother herself. Striking up a friendship, despite the women's differences, Leanne was able to reassure and soother the otherwise frantic Thea. Having been through the process herself twice before, she assured the woman, whose accent she found endearing, that motherhood was not a curse, but a blessing. It was the beginning of something epic, though neither of the women knew it at the time.

Mandy was born April 6, 1980, a few months before her best friend. She insists that Lisa's never kept her waiting so long, and that she's never been so annoyed with her as she was as a baby, waiting impatiently on her own in the big wide world. With lives so starkly different, it was clear that the bond between Thea and Leanne was only tenuously held together by their young daughters, who seemed from the womb to have sought one another out. Beyond her friendship with Lisa, Mandy's childhood was passed mostly in the company of a different sort of elite from the one at Hogwarts. Her father now a successful movie director, the artistically inclined made up her neighbours in the enchanting Chelsea neighbourhood. For the most part, Mandy felt decidedly lonely if not with her best friend, and spent a good deal of her time staging her own films while her parents were off at work. She grew accustomed to their impartial nods as she excitedly told them her day, and began to find new and louder means of getting her message across. A pretty child with a sort of exotic flair about her, she was generally petted wherever she went and began as a rather popular feature in the neighbourhood.

That is, until Mandy decided to take her aggression out on other children, particularly upon entering the all-girls private school her parents had insisted on. Feeling rather in need of attention, she took her anxieties out on her classmates in a particularly vindictive manner usually by starting rumours and instigating fights between her peers. Though her teachers attempted to tell her parents what was going on, the Brocklehursts didn't really want to believe it, or were too busy to really manage; anyway, look at the child's marks! She certainly was bright; perhaps she was just bored with the material. Luck was in their favour when Lisa was transferred into Mandy's school on a recommendation from her parents. With her best friend safely at her side, she began to quiet somewhat and more or less made the friends that she still has today.

When it came time for Lisa and Mandy to make the next steps in their education, both the Turpins and Brocklehursts sat down to discuss the possibilities. It seemed clear that separation was impossible, but the Brocklehursts had set their minds on Hogwarts. It was that school which had been so liberating for Richard, and he expected it was the finest in the country. As it was, Lisa being so smart, it seemed a waste to send her anywhere else. And so the girls both set off together, intent on wreaking havoc in an entirely new locale. Both sorted into Ravenclaw, the pair grew closer than ever, often making people roll their eyes with secret languages and a brain which sometimes functioned as one: Mandy managed to keep Lisa securely on the ground, and Lisa attempted to reel her other half in when she began in on one of her tirades. Though Mandy was not studious, she excelled in those subjects that interested her; the others she hardly bothered to look over her. The beginning half of her academic career, therefore, was only dotted with success. She was becoming much more interested in boys, in parties, in finding new ways to test the limits. Her reading material now included the biographies of Che and Joan of Arc, and her interest in film moved past the Brat Pack into experimental French directors. Having traveled extensively, her love of languages grew and she was soon writing up a list of the ones she intended on learning before she died. As her thirteenth birthday rolled around, and then her fourteenth, it seemed as though Mandy Brocklehurst was really finding herself. Coming into her own, with a diverse set of interests and a growing itch to learn marked her as decidedly separate from the totally spoiled child of all-girls school.

FIRST PERSON: So here's the thing. Every now and then, usually if I'd had too much coffee or not enough nicotine, I get the crazy idea in my head that writing poetry would be a fabulous idea. After all, what self-respecting sixteen year old yearning to find themselves doesn't get the itch to follow the bard and try their hand a little ababcc? The truth is, any literary aficionado has studied copious amounts of rhymed verse before touching pen to paper. I mean, seriously trying to write poetry. But if you've done that, you know that the superficial metaphors and meanings are nothing to the subconscious psychobabble just below. So what's the draw? I spout a few lines on a compass and a map, and suddenly I've got a bunch of concubines chained to my kitchen sink! So I sit down to write, about something, anything, a morning/mourning dove or a dew drop, and instead I find out I'm in love with my Grandmother's cat.

Does anyone else see the draw? Because fuck it, I'm all but lost. Poetry is an act of ego. I'm sticking to film. Outward projection, distinguishable focal point. Other people, other twisted brains, five more minutes of tricking myself into false belief and security of sanity.

THIRD PERSON: This was the sort of morning she lived for: the first round of sirens sounded distantly in the city blocks further away from her, depleting in wealth as you made your way into the heart of London. Her alarm clock blinked 6:17, and though it was a Sunday morning, her bare feet were already furrowing into the taupe carpet of her bedroom. Mandy Brocklehurst closed the short distance between bed and window, leaning against the cool glass panel with her forehead as she sleepily yawned and pulled her hand through the mass of tangles that were her hair. Though the heat of the August sun was already beginning to weave its way through the sunny Chelsea streets, dew drops clung ferociously to the grass, the first signs of September and of the slowly changing weather.

With one last lingering glance at the streets three floors below, the impish girl turned and flopped over her bed, fingers stretching out in order to grip the black telephone, expertly dialing the digits and waiting as it rang through to the answering machine, inevitable. Standing back up, she crossed her free arm over her stomach, not bothering to pull pants over her boxers as she made her way down to the kitchen. "Hey popsicle, it's me," she said, voice still heavy with sleep, careful not to trip down the stairs as she went. "Guess you're at working, or sleeping, you wanker, but I just thought I'd let you know I'm down on set for the day so, dunno. Call me when you get this, I guess? I feel like a picture. Oh, or pizza. Do you want pizza? It's going to be too hot to cook and we've only got," she glanced up at the calendar as she entered the tiled floor of the sprawling modern kitchen. "Five fucking days till school. Boo. I hope your dad doesn't get this! Sorry about the language, ." Opening the fridge, she pulled out the Chinese they'd ordered the week before and re-closed the silver stainless steel appliance with her foot as she turned to the island. "Anyway, I'm about to devour some noodles and then bike down into Brixton. Give me a ring, love you." With that, she pressed the 'off' button on the portable phone and placed it down on the counter as she started to shovel food into her mouth.


GSCE COURSES: English (A), English Literature (A*), Maths (C), Biology (C), Drama (B), Religion Studies (A), Media Studies (A*), Sociology (A), Psychology (B), Arabic (A), French (A*)

A LEVELS: English Literature, Film, French, Media Studies, World Development