WHITE, jenna laurel

jenna laurel white!

twenty-one - native - baker - taylor momsen

Tiffany and Daniel White gave birth to Jenna Laurel on December 14th, twenty-one years ago. Jenna was their only daughter (though they had an old retriever named Freddie who died when Jenna was four years old).  The Whites were a comfortable family in all the ways that mattered--financially, socially, and mentally. Tiffany and Daniel were soul-mates, so the rumors spoke, and rarely ever fought. They doted on Jenna, often spoiling her on birthdays and Christmases with large piles of elegantly wrapped presents. Tiffany worked at the local bakery, decorating cakes and the like. She often practiced at home, teaching Jenna bits and pieces of what she had learned from work. Meanwhile, Daniel had been a doctor at the hospital, working long hours (though he tried to spend his days off with his family at the park or out at dinner). For much of Jenna's life, she lived a picture-perfect one--received decent grades, always had a date to prom, and enjoyed deep-rooted friendships with a couple neighborhood kids.

Her luck lasted only until her eighteenth year, when she had gone for a drive with her parents on her father's day off. Rain had begun heavily falling, clouding Daniel's line of vision. When a cat ran out in the road, he slammed on the brakes, swerving sideways. Their Jeep Patriot wrapped around an oak tree--Daniel went through the windshield (having not worn his seatbelt) and Tiffany's body got crushed between metal and wood. She died upon impact, and Daniel died three hours later within the hospital's sterile walls. Jenna had been saved by her position in the backseat. She suffered minor lacerations from shattering glass, and broke her nose against the front seat, but was able to walk away on her own two feet. Her parents' deaths hit her hard, she was eighteen and needed no legal guardian--she was alone. After she buried her parents, she took her dated Toyota Corolla (a sweet sixteen gift) and drove away from Modesto. 

She traveled the country, driving as many miles per day as she could and sleeping in her car at night. She had enough cash with her for gas--and performed odd jobs in faraway towns just in case. She never called her neighborhood friends, though her cell phone's screen lit up with their names at various points throughout her journey. She wasn't really looking to find herself on the road, nor did she come to any particular revelation. After three years of driving, she grew tired of new sights and decided that maybe returning home might not be so bad. It took her three years to convince herself that she could drive down the same streets her parents did without feeling a terrible pressure pressing against her ribs. So, simple as the momentary decision, she returned home and got herself a job as a baker at the bakery her mother used to work at. Although she hasn't changed much, Modesto has, and Jenna's realizing just how hard it is to become unstuck in time.