Ashby Twillken District 8 {Finished!}

I'm nothing different from everyone else. Dark brown hair that's long and unkempt. Light brown eyes that just seem dull, faded, and lost. My hands are forever scarred from stitching and sowing the garish cloths that fit the Capitol's backs. My body is lean and boney from the little amounts of food that me and my older sister bring home.

I have more of an angular shaped face with a small upper lip and high cheek bones that fit well on my pale face. I don't mind being pale, but its not like working inside a musty old sowing factory gives a lot of chances to catch some sun. So both me and my sister look like ghosts that never seen the light of day whenever we come home.

I've heard people call me devious or sneaky because I'll sometimes slip a glove or two for the winter, or possibly a scarf. But I'll never take anything highly noticeable like a coat or sweater. I'm not that stupid. My sister doesn't know I take them, she thinks I got them for cheap at the market. She probably suspects I steal, but whatever, she doesn't seem to care.

I try to keep a smiley, happy face on whenever I'm at work or in public no matter how I'm feeling on the inside. To me it doesn't make sense to bring everyone down just because your down. Due to this I usually don't complain all that much so people don't know when I'm hurt or really uncomfortable.

That's not a bad thing right? Well anyway, I don't like people doing things for me. The way I see it, the best way to get a job done is to do it yourself. So what I'm a little stubborn, but it just the way I am.

I was born in District 8 with my sister Lila who's 4 years older than me and has taken care of me since our parents died. They died when I was 10, both from some disease that they caught during the winter. I don't remember what the disease was called. I just remember cleaning up after my parents when they threw up and having to get used to even smaller portions of food with Lila being the only one bringing home anything.

Lila has a total of 2 tesseras she's taken out to keep us alive and next year they'll be gone. She won't let me even think about taking out a tessera until shes 19. At that point we'll have no choice BUT for me to take out a tessera. Shes been getting so depressed about it lately that slipping some food from the market has crossed my mind a few times. But I know that she'd never believe that someone would give me food for cheap.

Ever since my parents died there's been one thing that I keep on me at all times. A necklace that my father had made for my mother. It was a star he had carved from a spare piece of wood. Other than some of their old cloths it's the only thing I have from them.