Phoenix Medona- District 6

Hello. My name is Phoenix Medona. I am a thirteen year old girl. I am from District 6. oh, and I have the compulsive need to follow Bear around. Everywhere.


"How Do I appear to others?"

If you study my reflection in the mirror, it might have cracks. I’m not part of the richest family in the district. Well, I actually live in the slums. But, no, that not what this section of my life is about. It’s about how I am seen by eyes. Eyes. Well, I will think I shall start there, since were already on that track.

My eyes utter opinion. They are perceived to be quite average by some and by others... others can call my eyes a miracle. A mystery. None of my family has the blue eyes that I do. They have a muddy, deepwashed brown. My eyes are large, yes. But they are also framed by sparse lashes. They work well, thankfully. Considering I watch Bear.

My face is quite blasé. Pale, straight lines. Nothing out of the ordinary. Well, there’s the birthmark in the shape of a moon that sits on my cheek. It just sits there. It doesn’t move. It is unattractive. It is like a stain. And I hate it.

I’m also tall. Spindly, some would call me. Long legs, arms. And thin. Starving thin. Well, when you’re the only one that older than eight in your family, outside of your mother, who sits blankly outside of the tent, screaming at passerbyers, you'd be thin too. Wait, not thin. What’s the word, eh? Scrawny. I am scrawny.

Now, let’s move onto my hair. It’s a dark brown color. Sort of wavy. Not a light, carmelly color. More of a chestnut color. It is just so... generic. Well, in my mind. My mind usually perceives things how they are, so I guess I am right.

My clothes are nothing to speak of. I have one shirt, one pair of pants, one pair of shoes, two pairs of underwear. Most of the time, I don’t even wear shoes. They are unnecessary. There too small anyway, so unless it’s freezing outside, I discard them altogether.



"What am I?"

When you think of what I must look like on the inside, you might ponder this for a second. Well, exotic. The eyes can point in that direction. An introvert, quiet, reserved. Bitter, even.

Well, those are things I do have in my system. Doesn’t everyone have some bitterness, some unique quality? Some point where they put up barriers from other people sneaking into the ideal frame of mind? A grey stone castle instead of a white linen sheet draped out of nowhere.

Well, I guess that the representation I'd try to find. I am like this. I draw up ideas in my mind then paste them into my own personal memory bank. Some people call it a photographic memory. But, I don’t have that. I just have keen observation skills.

Which is why I follow him around. Him? Bear. The absolute most perfect person on earth. Nice, he seems. He has his alone time, then I sees him dart into the brush, eating something. But I just sit there, behind the log, listening. He seems to be one of the kindest people ever.

Well, it’s not like I can spot fault in people. It’s something imp not proud of. I just can’t find fault in people. My mother, while eccentric, is still a good person in my mind. My sisters. My two brothers. The neighbor, the pair of people walking down the streets. I find no fault. This alters my perception of topics that bring my ideas down, pinned. Once one thing is said, it never escapes my mind. It’s locked that way.

What else may I mention in this collection of faults and optimism? The way I am fairly good at drawing? Seems small in comparison. Following Bear has led to me finding scraps of paper and stubby pencils that I use to draw on. I’m always surprised what I could find behind a log, by the banks of a stream. Sometimes paper bags filled with substances of unknown contaminants make their way into the woods. Body parts, sometimes. Drugs, alcohol. I find these things, remove them from their bags, lay them back, and draw on the paper covering. It is an inexpensive way to fuel my talent. And technically, not stealing.

Some could call me eccentric. Well, I can be. I like to do things in precise order. I will eat breakfast before brushing my teeth with my (shared) toothbrush. If I put on my shirt, my pants, I must do it in its order. When I am hiding behind a log, I will always mark the log with my initials and "thank you for the bag" so whomever left it knows I appreciate their kindness.


"What past arouses your memories?"

Imagine a woman, and a man. They are their first love. The woman holds a baby in her arms. The man is leaning against the wall. I figure this picture is the only one my Mother has ever been in. Or, the only one she's kept.

Why? She killed him. She got bored, killed him, and moved on to Joshua's father. She was arrested, and then confessed to insanity. She then killed the next man. Moved on to the other, shot in the head. Repeat motions. Well, until last year. My Mother finally looked aged. Her beauty had been rung out of her like a wet towel, leaving her with wrinkles and miles of grey hairs. She sat on the curbside. Not much more, just remaining immobile. She sat there.

She would yell at people, obscenities. A rumor went around she could tell the future by what she screamed. By the time the rumor came around, my youngest brother turned one. He wouldn’t remember the old Mother. The one that had more children. The one with reckless abandon. Moving swiftly between men, not caring about life or death. Only playing a deathly game with dice of bones.

But, six months ago. HE came. Bear. He was walking around. And I noticed he had that woodsy, dependability I never had in my life. Or, at least through my eyes.

So I started watching. And became pretty good. My clothes could get soiled, crouching down in the dirt and the rain. I invested some pennies I found in the ground into a pair of cheap binoculars. I made a coat of leaves to blend into the surroundings. I painted my clothes a grey color. I wanted to blend into the surroundings that I could seek out. My footsteps I covered. I did everything possible to NOT be noticed.

And guess what?

I still follow. Without notice.

"I want to be your obsession. I just dont want you to love me."



"Anything Else?"

Thoughts: 94D1C5
Speaking A640BF