Ailis Copper | 12 {FIN}

There was a reflection in the water recently where I saw myself. I was in District Four and my pale skin stuck out among the bronze of theirs. I think they knew I didn't belong with them. I had glasses I stole in the Capitol when I was feeling daring. I like those too, I wear them when I sing for a buck. The people I walk with some of the time say I'm pretty, that you can barely tell something's bothering me when my gray eyes force a smile. I'm good at faking happy. I did it before I ran away. My eyes match the color of the rest of the Seam, but I don't even tell my partners where I'm from. I think it's 'cause I'm ashamed or maybe because my skin doesn't hint at the olive coloring usual for District Twelve.

My hair is long and dark. I don't know what it looks like today, but my friends have a brush and I love that thing. I need to be pretty for my voice to get noticed. Estimating it, I think my hair is about four or five inches past my shoulders. I'm told that my hair is shiny but I wash myself any time I come across water. I take showers sometimes because people ain't always so mean to someone who can sing. I know my smile is pretty at least. People always tell me it's their favorite thing about me before I sing. I think it works in my favor too because people are more keen to listen to me when I'm smiling.

I'm not tall. In fact, I'm just over five foot. Maybe three inches, give or take. I'm a thin thing too and I don't even know how many pounds I weigh. I eat okay, I suppose. The forest is full of food and my pack knows well where to find it. I'm not as strong as the others, but I'm good with plants.

My lips are a tad thin, I guess. They're naturally as red as they look too. They chap easily and I like to chew on them too. I can't really help it. I get nervous sometimes and it's something to do when I'm bored. It's not that good when it's cold. The cold messes with my lips and makes them hurt worse. I've got a wide mouth and my smile spreads across my whole face putting dimples in my cheeks. I don't have big teeth, so I guess you can't say I look like a horse.

I've got big rosy cheeks. My friends, or so I like to call them, say it makes me cute. I resent that. I shouldn't be cute, I should be Captain Badassery who don't take no shit. I feel like people don't take me seriously because I'm a woman with a sweet face. I can take care of myself very well, thank you. You don't have to make me feel inferior.

The bridge of my nose is kind of narrow, if you wanna call it that. The bridge also kind of smarts a bit lower than most. My nose starts a bit below the middle of my eyebrows, where I hear it's usually supposed to begin. My nostrils are kind of wide and I think I kind of look like a chipmunk. I kind of like chipmunks though.

I've got some dark and thin eyebrows that seem out of place on my pale skin. I don't really know where else to go with that, so... They don't have that big of an arc either. I promise I don't pluck. I have freckles over my nose but you can't even notice them. I also have a mole on my cheek that bothers me. I think it makes me look like a witch. My friends tell me it's nothing to worry about, but I don't believe them.

I wear any clothes I can find or steal off people. I like the color blue and short dresses. Whenever I see them, I'm tempted to steal them. Whenever I see a nice house I'll stop and check the rooms for clothes in my size. I know it's wrong, but I need stuff to where and things to eat. I think walking barefoot is better than wearing shoes, but the older members of my tribe tell me about this boy who walked with them barefoot who got bit by some kind of snake in the forest. Oh, and the people I saw in District Thirteen were nice enough to loan me some shirts and jeans I find pretty.

[ personality ]

I never really liked staying anywhere, you know? From my very first memory, all I've ever wanted to do was explore and visit the places beyond District Twelve. I felt like I was being held back from something bigger than us. I thought that somewhere out there was my purpose in life. All I've wanted to do since was look for it. I wander the country looking for it every day. I love my momma and all, but I'm not happy just sitting around waiting for the day I'm nineteen and I finally need to get up and go to the mines. I know there's something bigger for me waiting out there. I can hear it calling my name at night and it puts a smile on my face thinking I might actually find it one day.

I like to sing. Singing makes me happy and I'm good at it. Momma always told me I had more talent than those singers hidden in the static of our television. Maybe that's what I'm supposed to do. I don't know, but I know it makes me happy and I want to do it. I'm kind of competitive about it. I always like to one-up people in anything I can do. I don't even know why, but it's always been like "I know I'm better than you and I'm going to prove it." Maybe that's mean to you, but to me it's something I have to do to get ahead in life. Ain't no one going to step aside for you unless you knock them down first.

I like clocks and pocket watches. I carry them around sometimes until they don't work anymore. I'm partial to just looking at them. In the richer districts, I use my pick-pocketing skills to lift them off of people. I don't get caught though, so it's no big deal, right? I guess it kind of makes me feel richer than I was back in District Twelve. I feel more powerful carrying them around because I know they must be worth more than my family could ever afford.

I carry white burning candles along my walks. I like the color of a flame and the white glow of a candle in the night. I like it when a candle has a larger flame because I like it when it licks the wax. I like it when the wax melts onto my skin. The burns remind me that I'm alive. That I still have something to sing about. My songs seem louder when I'm holding a candle. Maybe it's a symbol of what I'm against and what I wish to take down.

The Capitol needs to be taken down. Peacekeepers killed my momma for something we didn't even do. They tried to kill me too, would have if I didn't make it into the woods fast enough. I will always hate the government for taking away the bravest woman I ever knew. The woman who was my inspiration. The woman I want to become. I don't want my friends to be involved, and I know they wouldn't anyway. But, I know when I'm strong enough, I'm going to go back and kill the man who stole my momma from me. I blame all the Peacekeepers and the Capitol. I know I have to do something. I will. I don't want anymore innocent people being killed and tortured for a corrupt government. I want to do something about it.

I've always been brave. I've never been the selfish type that only worried about themselves and how things could go wrong. I'm not a tough kid and I never tried to be. I just stood up for myself. I don't let people knock me down. I don't let people make me feel bad. I didn't let where I am from define me. District Twelve is behind me and is not who I am. It never was and it never will be. I don't care if I'm caught and punished, but I will never live there.

I'm not mean. I'm not. I get into argument sometimes 'cause I rub people the wrong way, but I love making people smile. My singing helps people smile, so I'll keep doing it. My friends need help sometimes and encouragement. I don't know how to heal physical wounds but I'm good with emotions. I'm friendly enough to people. Outgoing too. I love listing spirits and making people happy. If I was able to care for a child properly, I would want to be a mother. To raise them the way my mother raised me. All I've ever wanted was to be like her. Do what she wished I could.

My momma never even saw my father. (He ain't my daddy, no pretending that someone like him could raise me right.) Never even saw him. She was walking home one night to our home in District Twelve when she was jumped and raped in the dark. She didn't even remember much about the attack. She took a heavy blow to the head that gave her fainting spells. Mammaw said Momma never really was right again after that. If you'd ask me, I'd say my momma did what she could. She was different than what my classmates' mommas acted like. Momma didn't have a good memory after that. I always had to repeat stuff for her to remember and her hearing wasn't the best either. But she was the nicest woman I ever met. Always helped our neighbors with their kids, made sure they ate if their parents couldn't afford to feed them. She always told me that she may not have liked how I came about, but she could never resent me and loved me with every inch of her.

We weren't rich or even wealthier than the average Seam resident. We were poor like everyone else. It was hard, but my momma made it work. Momma swore she had sold her right lung to keep me fed and she may as well have. Momma was the most hardworking woman in the Seam by a long shot. She worked as a merchant's assistant and in the mines. She did it all for me so I could have a good life. I could never repay her for that except by continuing to be the woman she raised me to be. She always wanted me to use my gift of song wherever I could for whatever I could. She encouraged me non-stop and was so nurturing.

I had my friends in school but I always knew I didn't belong there. I knew one day I would have to fly away. (Little did I know what I would be driven away.) I never grew attached to the little girls and the little boys. My momma wasn't fond of inviting the little boys and girls over to our place 'cause I think she always knew I was meant for something greater than District Twelve. Wherever she is now, I like to pretend that she's watching me now, smiling 'cause I got out. I know she isn't sad that it took her death for me to finally get away. In fact, I think she always knew we could only really be separated in death. I know she was happy where she was and I always sided with her.

I remember that day as if it were yesterday, even if it was three years before yesterday. Momma was skinning a squirrel that one of the neighbor boys brought home after crushing it's skull with a rock in their yard for them to eat. I remember they were doing their rounds and they stopped by to talk to my momma. She was always friendly with the Peacekeepers. She didn't think much of it. She always cooked in front of the Peacekeepers 'cause they seemed to be taken to Momma. Most people were. Well, she called them inside, not knowing that one of the men in white uniforms was a stranger. A newbie from District Two. He was a real hard-ass from what I heard from school. When he saw the squirrel, he just jumped to the conclusion that Momma worked with hunters. Momma had taken hard blows to the head before, and this was no different except for the noise I heard Momma's neck make there in my kitchen. I don't think she even felt a thing, but she was there with me a moment.

I reacted quick. I did what any good daughter would do. I held my momma's hand and told her I loved you before I was pulled away. The older one who I knew to like my momma was cursing at the murderer for what he did and the bigger and stronger former career took their anger and frustration out on me. I was out like a light and I woke up hours later in my mammaw's house. The woman had been dead five years at that point. Apparently, he didn't expect me to wake up, the evil man. He gives himself too much credit. I'm skinny, but I can take a punch. He came up with the excuse that we came at him and swore at him for being in out kitchen. He even said Momma swung at him. Now there ain't no way on Earth that woman could fight another human being and it ain't right what he said. But I knew I was still gonna be in trouble. I wasn't worth anything in this fight if I was dead. I was feeling good enough to know that this was my chance to run and I took it. A couple of my cousins came with me, but they went to District Thirteen to stay once I was feeling good enough.

Now, I get along just fine. I joined my own group and I fare well enough that I've got no right to complain. It's been three years and I've got some good skills now that I think I'm about ready to track down that man and get some revenge. You don't kill my family and expect to get away with it, especially when you're spreading lies about me.