Brandi Knickita Moreno (D1) Dec 18, 2011 19:24:09 GMT -5
Post by Specialk on Dec 18, 2011 19:24:09 GMT -5
Brandi Knickita Moreno
I'm not going to sit around and say I am perfect, I'm not. I don't even think I'm even close to perfect. I have all of the things people think are perfect, long legs, curves, and all the likes. Something just doesn't feel right about me anymore, like on the inside I am different from the way my 5'9", 130 pound appears. Like, just not connected to it anymore, I no longer have good posture. I look like a pretty, innocent angel, but I am not. But I digress.
Light blue is the color of my eyes, my almond shaped eyes. In some other districts, the color would stand out, make me special. Not here. Not in District One, the district of the perfect, the district where beauty is the expected, the norm. Even though we are all so different, our whole district is beautiful. In other places, unattractive people are the majority, if I lived their I would get so much of the attention. Not here though, not in District One.
My nose is small, but not so small that it looks awkward. The problem is, it looks boney and hooks down at the end. If I lived in the Capitol it would be fixed, or if I win the games like my adoptive parents want so badly. That could never happen though, I need to stick home, even if it is hell in the house, looking out for myself and my baby. They think it will cause me to grow tougher. It isn't working, all it does is keep me up at night, take away the thing I have going for me the most. My looks.
Lovely full lips are always great for kissing, and for me, they did exactly that up until the time I was raped. Now they just sit their, un-telling, showing no emotion. The only thing they kiss now is my baby girl, the girl who my parents refused to get aborted. I miss it , the feel of a guys lips on my lips, but I can not imagine ever feeling them again, not after what happened.
Though my hair will sometimes look blonde in the light, but trust me, it is not. My hair is actually a very light brown color. Normally it would be wavy, but now it is more a messy, knotty bunch of hair. I have trouble showering, I have to watch out for my baby all the time and showering prevents me from doing that. I have to take days off from school to be able to clean up and do my daily functions. You'd think a rich family would make life easier, but no, never. It could just never happen.
Constantly I am dirty, and I hate it, I hate it so much. My naturally light skin color is covered in a layer of dirt. I try not to smell at least, washing myself whenever I am in the kitchen in the mornings, whenever there is safety. At least I'm no longer fat like I used to be, the baby weight went away quickly. It is no consolation prize, but at least people say I look pretty again.
Ever since I moved into the house a few years ago I have been very uptight, and rightfully so. People in the house are trying to kill me, and in one case rape me. I can't trust any of them, not anymore. At first I was trusting, but then it was broken by one guy, one guy who lives around me, yet I do not know by face. I was naive back then, a house full of people who are meant to be training and I expected everyone to be all good and nice. Clearly I had some crazy thought going through my head.
This place was supposed to be so much better than my other home, that's why my parents let me go here. I showed promise as a career trainee, they thought it would be better for me. I don't even remember their names anymore, shows how good a daughter I am. All I want to do right now is take care of my baby, little Faith is the only thing that matters to me. She is all I want to take care of, she is all I have to take care of. If the people in the house want to fight me and injure me, fine, as long as they don't hurt my little Faith.
Ever since the incident I haven't been the same. I haven't been able to sleep, and the worst part is that it is not because I am worried for myself, it is because I am worried about my baby girl. What if they attack her? I constantly have to be on the lookout for someone trying to attack her. In fact, some of the people who fight me use her as a reason to beat me. The crazier ones say they are going to hurt her, and I have to let them cut me up and injure me because of that. I am at a total loss, even though I know nobody will hurt the baby because my adoptive parents say that she is going to be a victor some day, I hope she wont have to deal with it, but I do not doubt it, not in the least. She is being trained from the youngest possible age, so who knows, she could end up being the bastard victor.
Funny thing about my name, my mother and father were both alcoholics, they lost a bar bet a few days before I was born, so they had to name me Brandi. Yes, it is after the drink. Isn't that just so cute. Knickita isn't even a given name from my parents, I came up with it. Pretty much is an awesome name in my opinion, but the point is, even before I was born it was easy to see what kind of life I would have. That is why coming here seemed like such a great possibility. Yet I jump ahead too far. I just want to point out that even before I was born, I was already set for a life with alcoholic parents who would not care about me.
Expectedly, my parents had some money, so they tried to set me on the right path; let me be the first one to tell you that it is hard for a young girl to not follow the example set by her parents. I was set to end up like them, someone might say. I did not have an inner desire at that tender age to become a hungover nightmare daily, but it was going to happen, everyone who knew my parents was sure of it.
Instead of having to deal with me at home for a long time, they sent me off to career training around the age that they sent me off to school. Before the training, I never really found any interest in the games, but I excelled and then started to become interested. I figured if I won all of that money I would not have anything to do for the whole rest of my life, I would just be able to relax like some of the richer families in District One. Not doing anything seemed like a nice concept to me, a very, very nice concept.
When I was 15 I started to pick up the spare bottles around the house, some of them had liquor in them. I refused to think that I was becoming like my parents once I started to drink them, there was no way it could happen, I would not let it. The thing was, I enjoyed a little drink, anything that would take my mind off of the hellish parents I had. They would yell at me because of my drinking too, but I told them it was better I do it in the house than outside of the house, and they just yelled more. They agreed later, once they were sober and hungover. Whenever they had hangovers, I always could get them to agree to whatever I wanted, I never have been sure why and never will be.
Even as my drinking continued, my skill kept getting better. Eventually I was recruited to live in the Moreno's home, after a scandal of two people dying, that is. I quickly agreed to live their. Don't get me wrong, I loved my parents, they raised me, but if I had any chance at winning the Games it would be because of the Moreno's. I had heard they were using some state of the art training system, so I just decided to go, the innocent girl I was thought that there was nothing to lose in going. There actually was a lot.
They sat me down when I arrived, told me their training method. It involved basically being in the Games while living at their house. No killing, just injuring. It was not a nice prospect, but I could not back down at that point. I was naive, too naive. Within a week I was, well, I'd rather not explain it. But I was raped. I never, not to this day, have known who raped me, but when I find out, that man is going to have his throat slit. It's the only way I'll ever feel moderately safe again, for Faith, that is.
Of course, with my luck, I became pregnant, and my new foster parents refused to let me get an abortion. They said they baby was going to be some great future victor because it was going to be the baby of two great trainees. Their logic did make some sense, though the baby would be born into a stressful environment, an environment that would not help it. Because I was pregnant at the young age of 16, they basically protected me, told the others they would be in trouble if they laid a hand, or weapon, on me. This was not for my sake, that much was obvious to me. It was all for the baby, the baby they would be training from the time it was born till the time it got into the games or turned 19.
The baby was born a few months before I turned 17, and thank god I was not reaped then. It would have been terrible if I was. I was forced to lose the baby weight quickly because I would have to take care of myself again, I did not expect that I would also have to take care of the baby. My parents thought it would be good for the baby to be in a stressful environment, and if not, it would at least make me more aware of my surroundings and more hostile. They said it was my fault I got raped by someone in the house, so they figured it would teach me so much. They are damn right about that. I don't sleep anymore, barely eat, and get threatened about my baby daily. I do not bother to tell my adoptive parents though, they would think I am lying, trying to make an excuse to get my baby out of harms way.
Believe me, I'm not.
Made for the thingy where Thundy is threading with herself because Thundy was nice enough to let me into the self-plot-like thingy.
Face Claim is Miranda Kerr
<img src="http://i41.tinypic.com/16h2ibt.png"> is a sexy beast