The beginning

Once upon time there was a girl. .A very strange and funny girl who laughed at everything an knew what she shouldn’t . She was called Rebelle , because that was exactly the way she was.




Rebelle was born In the windswept Mojave desert in the shadow of the Joshua trees, very near Los Angeles. It was a lonely desert town , a place where ravens ruled and people did what was expected. A place of old ideas and forgotten ways in spite of it’s nearness to the city, oh what a city. Where anything went and old stood side by side with new. The city of Angels where freedom reigned.

Now, Rebelle’s Parents were too old to have a child. They had long since given up saying
“ I guess we weren’t meant for children “
But , as in so many fairy tales, That was not the case. A blessing or a curse a daughter was born.
Was it drugs or doctors? No. An accident of nature? Maybe. A pact with Devil or a blessing from above? that my dears is a question for scholars.


As time went by signs began to appear . Something, something was different about the girl.
The first such sign was a seemingly minor thing , a thing barely worthy of notice .. But notice they did .
The time came for Rebelle to be Baptized .Her parents took her to St. Mary’s. She lay, a sweet impish looking baby ,she did not cry or whimper as the water was poured over her sleeping head. At this the old priest laughed in his Irish brogue “ ah, the demons didn’t leave “. A small thing , such a small thing.

The next was not so small . One hot desert day a Fever came upon the baby . A fever hotter than any had seen, 110*. She barely survived, but survive she did much to the everyone’s shock … they tested her for years and came up empty. No answers as to why.

A cracked skull was next, then a near drowning, though Rebelle felt fine for the minutes she spent under water .Time after Time she should have died , but didn’t. It was as if something were protecting her . Protecting her from WHAT? I simply do not know .

Rebelle stood out more and more as she grew. Her wild red hair and impish face set her apart from the rest of the children. So pretty, so sweet with their innocent little faces. Her rowdiness and strange sense of humor had them puzzled .They would never behave like that, no they were good little children. In front of those who mattered. Rebelle was different and they knew it. They never let her forget .


Rebelle was a child though, and like many children she had a imaginary friend. Only this one wasn’t so imaginary. He stood by her in the day and tormented her in the night. Both a boogie man and an angel.


A friend who comforted, who kept good company and paid attention. That was just the thing for a lonely, misunderstood child , But he wasn’t only that. That was the odd thing about him. Now Rebelle had been tormented by screaming night terrors ever since she could talk .Another sign , Like the fever ?Perhaps. Who was the central figure of these night terrors ? Her very good friend of course. He would stand over her bed. Tall and swathed in darkness, almost darkness himself , with brilliant eyes that seemed to tear right into your soul .Terror doesn’t begin to describe. A smirk played across his lips he’d speak to her with a voice like melted butter saying “come to me my child, my favorite child “.Rebelle was , in spite of everything you must be thinking, a good girl with plenty of Catholic school behind her .She could still hear the nuns words in her ears ‘ … dealing with demons is an unforgivable sin ‘. Ha ha, you thought nuns didn’t say such things anymore , didn’t you ?With those words in her ears she would say “ NO! You’re not my Daddy” at this he would frown and say “ I made you. You belong to me “ and coolly turn away .. Letting the darkness swallow her , along with an agony like despair ,vertigo and madness. It was only when she gave in , finally, that he would scoop her up “ My sweet, little one “ he said smiling his trademark half smile. “ I will always love you ..”That’s how things continued. Fear and love .Pain and protection ( Why did those mean little girls always get what was coming to them? ) Until she finally began to understand…

He didn’t go away either , no. He is with her to this day , Though she’d scarcely admit it . I mean , how would that seem? Ridiculous, who has some invisible “friend” guiding them, comforting them?
Only the insane ,or perhaps , long ago in the middle ages …the Witch.


The one beautiful ,glorious thing about Rebelle was her way with an audience . She loved attention. The love and the acceptance the stage brought her . At 5 she’d wiggled to “Gypsy”, how she loved that ! At 6 she roared on the little school stage . Every day Rebelle would sing , a bright funny happy tune .Her voice was big as her personality. It was a true gift. Onstage Rebelle was alive ,funny something to see. and her voice. Her voice was as big as the world and just as beautiful. Like an ocean it could be smooth or devastating .Here was something that made her uniqueness something to be proud of .HERE, was something she could do, something she could excel at ,after being a misfit and an outcast for so long.
Was this her purpose ? Was this why she was born ? Why she was so strange .. So different than the other children. All she knew was that she loved Performing. She loved talking and she loved singing and she was GOOD . There everyone loved her for everything that set her apart . This must be why I’m here she decided .A free spirit with a voice to tell the world . Tell it ..what ?

As great as Rebelle was at singing and at acting there was one other thing Rebelle was especially good at.
Something she’d longed for deep in her heart of hearts for as long as she could remember , magick.
Of course Rebelle had been told “ magick isn’t real” she didn’t believe that .Rebelle was a dreamer and she dreamed of Wizards high in towers tapping the secrets of the universe . How she wished that could be her ..



As luck would have it a trip to Salem, the Salem, made that dream a reality when her Dad bought her a book from the official witch herself .This was something she was born for .The feeling was ecstasy ,the power so beautiful like finding true love . The world opened up. Before . She could see things as she never did before . She understood . She understood , finally .

Together , music and magick, what spell that would be !So Rebelle applied herself . She went to the best schools she could ,found the best teachers. Perfected her craft until she realized. She realized the message she had to send . Through her Music. A message gleaned from al her pain and all her wonder .
One that only a freak, a prodigy and a mad woman could conceive,

Be you. Be the best you there is, unique. Rebel against the normal. Against a world that would destroy your uniqueness. Celebrate what makes you different , that is what makes you special. Destroy a world that would kill you dreams. Your dreams will show you your purpose. Rebel against the expected and most of of all, think for yourself.

Already there are others leading a way. The Rebels who do not conform to society. Who stand alone , unafraid ,taking the life they desire. So Join us. Us Rebels who fight for the right to be ourselves in a world that wants only conformity. Scrap your parents plans for your life, follow your own dreams ,Rebel. Fight the fashion that others dictate ,dress to express your uniqueness, Rebel. Forget that job you hate , Rebel. Do the things you wish you could . Travel the world, Grab that person you want to badly, Get the job of your dreams .Even if it takes sacrifice, do it . Don't let fear stop you. Forget what you can't do and do it .

REBEL!


Rebel against normal
Do what you love, love who you will
And be FREE