LINDSEY

Early Life (1988–2004)

Born January 12, 1988, in Arizona, Lindsey was raised in a household carved from violence and fear. Her father—volatile, alcoholic, and unpredictable—was the kind of man who swung fists before forming sentences. Emotional neglect piled onto physical trauma, severing any hope of security or love. She grew up closed off, razor-sharp, and full of quiet rage. By 16, she ran. No note. No goodbye. Just dust and the sound of the back door slamming.

Rail Years (2004–2005)

Lindsey hit the rails and vanished into the freight routes of Utah. She learned fast: how to hide from yard dogs, how to spot rail cops, how to sleep with one eye open. The people she met were ghosts—other runaways, lost men, lifers with tattoos older than her. She kept to herself. Stole what she needed. She was starving and afraid most of the time, but she didn’t go back.

Meeting Lysias (2005)

In Ogden, Utah, she met Lysias—ten years older, already hardened by a life spent stealing and disappearing. He didn't try to fix her. She didn’t ask him to. Their bond was built on shared ferality. He dared her to set a gas can on fire. She did. They were inseparable after that.

Lysias introduced her to the underground: metal shows in squats, punk bands living in vans, the blurred line between freedom and ruin. She soaked it in. Violence, noise, rebellion—they made more sense than family ever did.

Port Townsend (2006–Present)

The two eventually squatted an abandoned, moss-choked cabin just outside Port Townsend, WA. It became their filthy Eden—a hideout full of busted amps, stolen milk crates, and unwashed blankets. JJ, a mutual friend and show-runner, helped them build a crusty network of squatters, musicians, junkies, and lost youth.

Lindsey tried to stay clean a few times. But the drugs always came back. Heroin, mostly. Sometimes pills. Always something to blur the echoes of her childhood. She tells herself she’s still in control, even as her reflection grows more gaunt and unfamiliar.