For the purposes of my sanity, this is my novel, my project, my thesis. It is my film, it is my story, told in a way that helped me to survive.
My name is Devon Jessica Hallgate, Alias Siddha Lee Saint James.
For some people in Surrey British Columbia, Vancouver, and even India, I am a fucking myth. To Anonymous I am an irritation that will not heal, for those who went after the Damascus family, I am a fucking holy terror from which even Satan ran with his tale between his legs.
When I was a little girl I fell in love with two boys, one was an angel named Michael, who I swore as long as I live, to love always and forever, eternally, no matter what. I have to the best of my abilities, stood by that promise, and cannot wait until I can say it to his adult face.
The other, was a boy named John, who I named Angel – as it turns out, John and I grew up together, and as much as he loved me, I just wasn’t able to love him back, largely because I’d been taught that when I fall in love, I was often punished for it.
Michael was trained to be mean, and underneath all that mean was the sweetest, kindest and gentlest guy a girl could ever hope for. Unless, it came to protecting one life over another. Michael chose to protect me once, and it almost got him killed, the stories that are told on this website are based on the truth life love story that almost never happened, here in Surrey, British Columbia.
This is the coolest, weirdest, most diabolical place in the entire world, and it started because Michael had the guts to love me back, even though he knew my grandfather, and his father, were mortal enemies. Even though, we both understood both were incredibly stupid and old fashioned in their own ways, we love each other, and if you think it’s weird that I Devon Hallgate am saying that I love Michael Alexander Ross, you are not the only one.
The days of the last few months are a bit of a blur, and the nights are filled with so much love and laughter that both of us have been left wondering whether or not we deserve to live and be so lucky at the same time in the same place.
For you to understand why this is important you have to know that Michael has three beautiful children. He has raised them from birth, changed diapers, fed them when they were hungry, and cried when no one was around to hear it. He’s whispered prayers of hope and love to them when no one thought he believed in God, and right now, he’s doing the one thing that he never wanted to see his children see him do.
He’s sitting in a prison cell, stuck in the dark, wondering when he’s ever going to see his kids, because he made a stupid fucking mistake, one that he will regret for the rest of his life, and he’s not with the children he raised, largely alone.
Then there is our friend Alicia, she’s little, and loud, annoying and bat fucking insane, but she’s one of our best friends. She helped Michael, and she loves him as much as I do, the only difference between Alicia and I, was that she got to be a part of his life, and I was genuinely not allowed.
This is because I am Romanian, English, Irish, Scottish and Jamaican. Do you know what each of these cultures have in common? They hate each other, they are genetically pre-disposed to hating each other, because hate breeds hate.
Each of the five cultures of which I am apart are ruled by the sacred and secret organization of AbracadabraS. The AbracadabraS is as old as time itself, descended from the the very first spores of creation…or so they say.
They call themselves the Krisya Ohana, – they claim that they are descended from the most powerful and most ancient blood lines in the entire world. You might know them as Christopher Evans, or Brad Pitt.
You might even recognize the name Trump, although they’ve been excommunicated for years, we promise.
The AbracadabraS is Romanian by blood mostly – and Micheal Ross is not, he is what they would call a “Goje” or outsider. Now, you can call bullshit all you want Matthew Mcconaughey, but we all know you’re just as much a member as the rest of us so shut the fuck up.
We decided, Michael and I, that we had to tell our story, because although we don’t want his kids to know about his time…”away”, we do want our children, *not Michael’s and mine, I mean….aw fuck it you’ll see*, to understand that the city of surrey belongs to them.
You might know us as Bacon Brothers, or Horsemen, Hell’s Angels, or Surrey Crew….some of us went by names like The Roughrider’s, Gangsters, Losers, Thugs, whatever. We’re not the fucking Breakfast Club, but we are a bunch of kids who were beaten up by vampires, raped by demons and abused by the same people who claimed to protect us.
We wrote this story together by living in Surrey British Columbia, and although some of us have never met, each and every one of us was lucky enough to meet Siddha Lee Saint James in one form or another.
The truth is that Siddha Lee Saint James does not really exist, it’s a name I used to whisper to myself whenever something weird would happen, which as it turns out was a lot.
So now I get to be the lucky bitch to write about the crazy weird girl with wild curls that everyone swears exists, but no one can identify.
Except for Phil Terrace, he’s the only one, because he has this majick ability to see through time and space, even if he’s dumb as a load of fucking rocks bouncing around in a cement truck. I say that only because he thought he was crazy, for years, he kept drawing eyes and asking me which eye looked right, which eye was the perfect shade of blue to make up Siddha’s eyes.
I never understood why he’d ask such a ridiculous question, cause her eyes are exactly like my eyes, and my eyes are fucking brown. Twit.
He’s sweet to have tried though. This is the true story about the Kelowna Wolf Pack, the rumors about kids from Surrey not being allowed in White Rock, (no longer true by the fucking way we’re awesome.) and you know all the drama that the press think they know. Except our story has Vampires, Demons, and Witches and like I said I get to be the one to tell the tale.
It’s literally the longest tale in history, so I’ve decided to use Twitter, Instagram and Facebook to help tell the story.
A lot of the blog is based in reality – of course – but sometimes you’ll find letters from some of the various characters that we’ve created to help us tell the truth in a way that made sense to our childhood brains.
There is one curator for the website, and that’s me, Devon Jessica Hallgate, but there are more than five hundred people working behind the scenes to ensure that the story comes out in as many ways as possible. We’re prepared for that, for all the moments that prove that what happened to us was real. For the days when our stories will be told and our kids can shake their own heads when they realize how fucking stupid we were not to ask for help sooner.
However much we recognize that we should have asked for help sooner, that we should have told the truth sooner, maybe we wouldn’t have had to lie about the things we said we did, in order to prove the things that we didn’t do.
We had the help of allies from all over the world, and we’re really grateful and all…but the story belongs to me, cause I’m the dumbass who decided to use Siddha Lee Saint James as an alias.
So since I’m being honest and all, it’s a lot about the story of a bunch of girls who saw what they thought they didn’t see, which is to say, they thought they saw something, and it was mostly designed to piss them off….without causing harm until they got angry and jealous.
It’s about Siddha, who kicked ass and decided to live alone and independent of man or woman in her life, largely because she really got sick and tired of the “he’s my boyfriend and there for he’s more important” baby daddy wannabe wifey bullshit Surrey BC Drama.
I’ve spent a long time studying the people of Surrey, British Columbia, and because of these…people, it seems that Siddha Lee, and the voices in my head have taken over. Now, a Shrink would say this makes me completely insane, the fact that my friends would probably agree won’t be helping my situation I’m sure.
I however say that it makes me an Alchemist, I have mastered, I believe, at least, the art of turning bullshit into gold.
I’m a writer you morons, and most of the shit I post here is fiction, with the caveat that if you do stupid shit I’ll jump out of character to tell you how I really feel about it.
This website is a reflection of all my various inspired intermingled, broken and mangled back together pieces that make me who I am.
If you think I’m weird, than it means that I am telling the story right. If I inspired you somehow, or taught you something, if you felt something or were in any way affected any of the artists who have come together to use this site as their collective historical Archives, please let us know.
Sending all my love,
Siddha Lee Saint James and “Little”.