Matthias Evander Birch D2 {Done!}

"Look at me! I'm tired of people bullshitting around. Tell me the truth. Tell me what you see!" My loud, harsh, deep voice echoes through the room bouncing off the mirror flying straight into my face as my hands move around sketching my image deep into the glass caved in silver. "Don't mess around with me! Look me in the eyes!" My eye glare at the reflection standing before me recreating my every move. A face as pale as a ghost, eyes wide with glamour dances before me. I'm such a handsome young man, at least, it's what I think, and only my opinion matters. People often tell me I look sick, and it's often believable. My dark brown, shaggy, soft hair floats above my eyes standing out more on top of my head. Side burns fall against my ears threatening the growth of a beard, one I never want to have. A large, smooth forehead drops from the hairline down until my angular, brown eyes shine into the scene. Pain swells in the depths of the pupils waiting for a waterfall performance to begin. Dark circles surround my eyes mixing with my pale skin tone as people believe I never sleep, which in short, is the truth.

Above my eyes, sits bushy, untamed eyebrows outlining the dark circles as they shield my eyes against the light which presses before me. Underneath the dark circles sits thin, puffy cheeks high upon my face outlining my eyes making them sparkle into the night. A stern jawline flows gently with the rest of face turning at a small angle forming a rounded chin. A large nose place awkwardly in the middle of my face bringing the features horribly out of proportion with one another only sending rage flowing through my veins. I hate my nose. It's the worse thing in the world, and it'll never go away. It's glued against my face as glaring eyes pass by me every moment. Tiny, pale, pink lips sit gently above the chin giving a new meaning for the phrase chicken lips. When he smiles, his pearly white teeth can be seen from a distance as light flashes off them. Scruffy hair flows forms a gentle beard matching with the hair upon my chest, all of which is amazing if you ask me.

Being a well trained career brings many advantages. Muscles line my arms in every single direction. It's nice when people stare at me in fear from the size of the muscles. As I stand roughly five foot eight inches tall and weigh an amazing one hundred sixty pounds, people underestimate my strength. I'm capable of lifting my body weight plus more. It's a secret, though, and it's one I will never share. I prefer brute strength over speed since being the fastest only means I would run away from fights, and that's something I'll never do. Nice six pack abs sit easily on my stomach. If it wasn't for my extremely hairy chest, I would go everywhere without a shirt showing off how strong I truly am. My legs are horribly slim making the upper half of my body out of proportion with the lower half. People tend to laugh, and make fun of how I look, but it doesn't matter anymore. As long as I'm happy with how I look, nobody else's opinion matters. I'm not the strongest, and I'm not the fastest, and I'll never be because I have to work harder so I will one day be the best career to ever step foot inside the arena. 

Personality

When people look at me, the first thing most notice is how calm I always am. Through pain and suffering a smile is placed upon my face masking away how hurt I truly am. Not a single person in the world will know the pain flowing through my veins with each faint tick of the drum hiding under my chest. Everyone wants my to fill my life with joy, pride, ambition, but they never understand the pain is much deeper than any physical wound. Scars line the outer edges of my heart crashing down upon my life bring the pain more and more each and everyday- nobody should deal with this much pain. Watching my family die one by one on the screen for all of Panem has destroyed my life piece by piece shattering the veil under my skin sending shards flying into the distance away, never to be seen again. Lies fly through the lips piercing the air slicing into my soul like a dual edge sword. I hate liars- they have no place in my life. Lies force pain upon people as they trust the ones around them, but only when it's broken will they realize how distraught they truly made the person. A mask laced with gold covers the face forever.

Be honest with me! Tell me the truth as I will always tell the truth. Honesty is a trait I adore. It's easy for lies to flow across lips into the open, but it's hard for people to be honest, at least, that's what they say. I'll be honest with anyone. Ask me a question, and my honest opinion will fly through the air before anyone can stop it. I'm beyond the point of caring what others think about me- I never really cared in the beginning, but my opinion is my opinion. People can respect it, or they can turn away as everyone is entitled to their own opinion. Sometimes, laughter will burst through my lips as the truth flies through the air trapping those around me as pain surges inside them. Everyone should learn not to ask me a question they don't want an honest answer too as I won't hold back. Honesty has the capability of going a long way, but at the same time it can be hurtful. Am I honest because I want to hurt people, or is it because I want people to know how I deeply feel about them? The world may never know. Honesty is deceiving in the eyes of those who I hold close as they know my true identity.

For someone with such a calm demeanor, I have a huge, fierce temper. Not a single person understands why a short fuse is wired inside my brain as it takes a lot to make me angry. Stand away when the bomb detonates as objects in my reach become projectiles. A war will rage before me as my hands slam into vases shattering them against the floor. Words laced with malice, hate, vengeance slash through the air as people move away from the direction my words travel. The calm words of the innocent citizens begging for mercy as fire surges through my veins prompting every command against my will. It consumes my soul. Every attempt at calming me down fails. It's best for the bomb to wear down instead of standing in the path of destruction. "Walk away before you get hurt. Take the step into the distance turning from my path of destruction before it's too late. Don't say I never warned you." Stay away from the angry kid as the bull charges with it's horns down prepared for slaughter. Stay out of my way, and everyone will be safe.

Don't mess with my family. I will always stand up for my family no matter what. I don't want to hear anyone saying anything against them as they are deserving of life as well. Everyone should be treated equal as nobody is higher up on the list than the next person. It's horrible watching people trash one another as they weren't a human being. It pisses me off beyond all belief as nobody understands the meaning of life. Watching my family die in the games, knowing I couldn't do anything about it, changed me. It'll be my own personal goal to destroy anyone who messes with them. I couldn't save any of them, and I swear to Ripred, if anyone who slaughters my family in cold blood returns home from the games, I'll make their lives living hell. The bomb living inside my mind will explode, and I'll make the murderers cry. I haven't been training for the games for nothing. My family means the world to me, and I will do everything placed in front of me to save them. No more will die, no more will be left in vane. They all deserve to live life like everyone else. Think twice before messing them as this is the one and only warning.

History

When I was younger, all I ever wanted was the chance of fighting for the district. All I was raised to know was fighting, training for the games. My family wanted me to learn like the others, and it's what I would enjoy doing. Every second of every single day, my feet would carry me to the career academy. For hours, I'd sit back watching other train as they fought for the games. People older than me grew stronger and stronger waiting for the moment when they'd have the chance to volunteer. Everyone wanted to volunteer as it is an honor representing District Two in the Hunger Games. I watched one by one as everyone traveled the journey through the arena, and often I wondered what it would be like fighting with the best. Every chance I had, I would fight with a sword over and over yearning for approval. Life was great. I had no worries in the world as everything was fine. I had no worries in the world as my family took care of me making sure I was one of the best careers to ever walk the earth. I loved them, and they loved me. All I wanted was the chance to make my family proud.

Life was a blessing until the Capitol decided the blessing needed destroyed. I never took life for granted as life would keep going over and over, but it all failed the moment the cruse was wrapped around us one by one. It all started the moment Cassius was reaped. A career, a cousin, was reaped for the games. He didn't have a choice as his name was called, but he went forward and all I could do was watch as we was bombarded in the bloodbath. People attacking him left and right. He needed to run away from the madness, but the girl from six struck him down. It didn't hit until his body returned from the games, and he was buried within the tribute cemetery. He was gone, and he would never be returning home. Then in the quell, Beatrice was reaped. Watching her journey through the arena with a misfit alliance. She destroyed people- she killed them. Hopes were high that she'd return home, but it didn't happen as the girl from three swung the sword high and proud ending her life forever. All I remember was loud screams before the world went silent.

I thought I'd receive a break when none of my family was reaped for the next games- the curse had finally came undone, but Hannah, and Ares both decided to volunteer for the games. I never understood why anyone would volunteer for slaughter, but I knew it's what Ares always wanted. I wish Ares was here so I could tell him how important he was. I don't know if he ever realized how much I looked up to him. For some reason, he called me Evander all the time. Nobody else would call me Evander as they preferred my first name, Matthias. Hannah, on the other hand, I didn't really know her, but she's still my family, and nobody wants their family to die. Hannah died early in the games as several people jumped her. It was a bloody moment as three people laid lifeless on the ground side by side. She was taken away too soon, but she volunteered, so she knew it would happen. Ares on the other hand made it farther than Hannah. It was looking hopeful he'd return home to the family when his ally slammed the glaive into his neck and he died in front of me.

People shouted my name, calling me Matthias, as screams flew from my mouth high into the sky. Pain erupted through my skin as flames danced through my veins. Hatred replaced the innocence living inside me as anger against the Capitol, the tributes, the murders slices through me. Nobody is deserving of death, it's all a bunch of bullshit. My family wants me to live up for the career name, bringing honor back to district two, but they never think about me. I swear, if the girl from one or the boy from nine returns home, they'll be mine on the victory tour. I'll show them the meaning of being a career. I don't give a damn what anyone says because they killed my family. They destroyed them in a heartbeat without thinking twice about it, not caring about those left at home waiting for the return of the love ones. Ares and Hannah will return home, but not the way I wanted them to. They'll be cold, and stiff prepped for burial, and nobody will ever care. Ares called me Evander, and I'll never be known as Matthias again for my name is Evander Birch.

Narration 7f8e9d
Thoughts f2dec0
"Hearing 8c8ba9"
"Speech 81a296"
(other b5aa99)