jesi's serenity character

As written about three months ago. I really can't tell you anything about it, because I don't really remember writing it.
......

Back on Osiris I used to dream about the farm. The only place for three planets where you could buy decent potatoes, Dad used to say. Not that the vacuum packed stuff you could buy anywhere else was really all that different, but he used to say ours were special. The genuine article. Dug straight out of the dirt by the best farming family this side of Hera.
He liked to exaggerate, my dad.
Our farm was really a pretty poor one, but we had what nobody else did, and that was shade. Twenty-five acres of it seven months out of the year, and that last five acres stayed dark year-round. The benefit of living under the only cliffs on a flat planet. A sun like ours can fry crops – and people – in one afternoon. Nothing grows, nothing lives, except what’s put here by the Alliance.
I hated every minute I spent on that farm.
Sure we were doing something worthwhile and sure we were making money, but what teenage girl wants to spend her weekends scraping a living out of a gorram rock? Whatever happened to getting laid?
So I couldn’t wait to leave, and I was out like a shot when Dad offered to pay my school fees. I didn’t get homesick once all through those months out in the black. When we landed in Osiris and I stumbled out with eyes wide as dinner plates, I thought I’d come home.
But like I said, med school in a core Alliance planet was enough to get me dreaming on those potatoes.
I’d wake up in a sweat at five in the morning, all too ready to haul water and drag Marcus out of bed, only to remember that Marcus was way the hell away and all I had to do was turn on the tap.
I’ll let you in on a secret, though. Civilization isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. All those med-school students who think working hard means spending an extra half hour on revision…they wouldn’t last a heartbeat where I come from.
Everything’s easy in the core. Day to day you don’t have to worry where your next meal’s coming from. Whether pieces of the cliff are going to tumble loose and crack your scull open or if the well’ll dry up, or whether you bribed the raiders enough to stay away this year. Or that thing nobody ever mentions – that maybe today’ll be the day the Reavers come.
Sometimes I think, even after all that’s happened, that I might have been better off – been happier – staying there. Staying home.
Sometimes I think under everything I’m still just a farm girl.
And there’s nothing sadder than a farm girl without a farm.