Anna Marie-/-\-/DISTRICT 11 DONE
Apr 6, 2014 17:39:11 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Apr 6, 2014 17:39:11 GMT -5
Name: Anna Marie
Age: 16
District: 11
Gender: Female
Codeword: Odair
Appearance:
My long hair flows down my shoulders the color of a setting sun. My father and mother say that I was the most beautiful child they ever had despite me looking so weak and frail. I seem as if when small shove could send me to the ground. Past my cheery expression everyone sees in my eyes the hatred for the people who like to shove me to the ground. Some say they sometimes see a spark of fire in my hazel colored eyes. I checked once and there was no fire, just my plain ordinary brown eyes. I am the ordinary one. The one who doesn't stand out in a crowd. Even though I am beautiful I just seem to melt into the crowd. No one seems to notice me so I am called "too ordinary."
Everyone picks on and bullies me because I'm "too ordinary". You can often see people knocking books out of my hands at school because they think they're so special. When some people do that you see me lean down to pick up my books muttering in my small, soft voice, "I'm not special. Everyone has something special about them except me."
Many people say I'm beautiful and graceful even though I look so "ordinary." Apparently I just have a face which people pass right over. I guess beautiful is "ordinary" then. I am incredibly thin which a few people say makes me more beautiful. When I look in a mirror though I see hallowed out cheeks and a thin frame from not eating enough.
Even sometimes at home my father and mother get so annoyed at me because I have no visible talent. One morning I can downstairs to hear my father saying to my mother, "She's such a burden. Why do we keep her?" I stayed up in my room that day, refusing to come downstairs. By the end of the day my eyes were red and bloodshot with silver streaks of tears on my cheeks as there often is. People at school tease me about that as well. It doesn't help my eyes.
Personality:
Have you ever felt resentment at something. I feel resentment at everything. My parents, my life, the kids at school. I resent resentment but I just can't help it. Resentment bubbles inside of me like water boiling.
I can be nice though, when I want to and to people who are nice to me. I believe they saying, "Treat others how you want to be treated," is true. Though I try being nice to the people who are mean to me nothing helps. So I am mean to them. Those people who are mean to me get their payback. I knock down their books in the hall like they do to me. I treat them with disrespect like they do to me.
I suppose I'm just ordinary. Someone who takes revenge and feels resentment. I'm nothing special. At least, I can't see anything special about me. That is one reason why I hate the Capital as well. My brother died from the flu and they couldn't help with all their fancy machinery. Or at least, they wouldn't.
I love to climb. Because of my job I see how easy and fun it is. Climbing is basically my job now. I started loving to climb after my brother died. I had to leave the job I loved as a baker and go work out in the fields. At first I hated it and then I started to love it because I got the task of calling the four note whistle to let everyone know that it was time to stop work.
I love the mockingjays who fly through the air. I love most nature. So you could say I'm a nature lover. During my job I became really close to it. I found the way the mockingjays sing are amazing and beautiful.
At least I know my parents are worried about me. Apparently I have depression. I have suicidal thoughts and I often try to act upon them. I love no one, and I am bored all the time and always has no idea on what to do. I've had depression ever since I was 14 years old. I developed depression because of everyone teasing me in school and at home my parents thought I was useless, it almost drove me crazy. My parents thought I was a burden because most of the time when I wasn't working I would either wander around aimlessly or just stare off into space. You can just barely tell the progression of depression from my report card. I stopped studying and I started to not care at all about school. My grades dropped drastically from a high B to a low D. I didn't care.
History:
I was born a tiny baby into a small house on the edge of district eleven. My father and older brother worked hard in the fields every day just to keep my family alive. My sister and mother worked hard in their bakery which didn't get much customers. By the time I was 7 I was either excepted to work in the fields or in the bakery. I chose to work in the bakery. I loved the way it was always filled with the fresh scent of actual bread, even though I wasn't aloud to eat it.
My family almost starved to death countless times. I tried to help as much as I could from working in my mother's small bakery. I loved it ever since I started. When I was 12 years old my brother died from the flu. I loved my older brother dearly and when he died I became silent and brooding a lot. We had no medicine and barely any food. After he died I was expected to work in the fields. I got a tiny bit stronger from that, but I still was a small child. My job was to call the mocking bird whistle to let everyone know it was time to go home from work. I started to like it when I whistled my first time to the mockingjays and they whistled back in a chorus. I thought it was amazing how they copied it exactly.
When I was fourteen years old I discovered by overhearing my parents that I had depression. Apparently I had all the symptoms. I was bored most of the time with no idea on what to do, my grades were dropping drastically because I didn't care about school as much, and I never smiled or laughed any more. I call myself crazy now because that's how I view myself. Since everyone teased me and tortured my mind everywhere I went eventually I snapped.
IMG #2 CREDIT TO FROZEN
Age: 16
District: 11
Gender: Female
Codeword: Odair
Appearance:
My long hair flows down my shoulders the color of a setting sun. My father and mother say that I was the most beautiful child they ever had despite me looking so weak and frail. I seem as if when small shove could send me to the ground. Past my cheery expression everyone sees in my eyes the hatred for the people who like to shove me to the ground. Some say they sometimes see a spark of fire in my hazel colored eyes. I checked once and there was no fire, just my plain ordinary brown eyes. I am the ordinary one. The one who doesn't stand out in a crowd. Even though I am beautiful I just seem to melt into the crowd. No one seems to notice me so I am called "too ordinary."
Everyone picks on and bullies me because I'm "too ordinary". You can often see people knocking books out of my hands at school because they think they're so special. When some people do that you see me lean down to pick up my books muttering in my small, soft voice, "I'm not special. Everyone has something special about them except me."
Many people say I'm beautiful and graceful even though I look so "ordinary." Apparently I just have a face which people pass right over. I guess beautiful is "ordinary" then. I am incredibly thin which a few people say makes me more beautiful. When I look in a mirror though I see hallowed out cheeks and a thin frame from not eating enough.
Even sometimes at home my father and mother get so annoyed at me because I have no visible talent. One morning I can downstairs to hear my father saying to my mother, "She's such a burden. Why do we keep her?" I stayed up in my room that day, refusing to come downstairs. By the end of the day my eyes were red and bloodshot with silver streaks of tears on my cheeks as there often is. People at school tease me about that as well. It doesn't help my eyes.
Personality:
Have you ever felt resentment at something. I feel resentment at everything. My parents, my life, the kids at school. I resent resentment but I just can't help it. Resentment bubbles inside of me like water boiling.
I can be nice though, when I want to and to people who are nice to me. I believe they saying, "Treat others how you want to be treated," is true. Though I try being nice to the people who are mean to me nothing helps. So I am mean to them. Those people who are mean to me get their payback. I knock down their books in the hall like they do to me. I treat them with disrespect like they do to me.
I suppose I'm just ordinary. Someone who takes revenge and feels resentment. I'm nothing special. At least, I can't see anything special about me. That is one reason why I hate the Capital as well. My brother died from the flu and they couldn't help with all their fancy machinery. Or at least, they wouldn't.
I love to climb. Because of my job I see how easy and fun it is. Climbing is basically my job now. I started loving to climb after my brother died. I had to leave the job I loved as a baker and go work out in the fields. At first I hated it and then I started to love it because I got the task of calling the four note whistle to let everyone know that it was time to stop work.
I love the mockingjays who fly through the air. I love most nature. So you could say I'm a nature lover. During my job I became really close to it. I found the way the mockingjays sing are amazing and beautiful.
At least I know my parents are worried about me. Apparently I have depression. I have suicidal thoughts and I often try to act upon them. I love no one, and I am bored all the time and always has no idea on what to do. I've had depression ever since I was 14 years old. I developed depression because of everyone teasing me in school and at home my parents thought I was useless, it almost drove me crazy. My parents thought I was a burden because most of the time when I wasn't working I would either wander around aimlessly or just stare off into space. You can just barely tell the progression of depression from my report card. I stopped studying and I started to not care at all about school. My grades dropped drastically from a high B to a low D. I didn't care.
History:
I was born a tiny baby into a small house on the edge of district eleven. My father and older brother worked hard in the fields every day just to keep my family alive. My sister and mother worked hard in their bakery which didn't get much customers. By the time I was 7 I was either excepted to work in the fields or in the bakery. I chose to work in the bakery. I loved the way it was always filled with the fresh scent of actual bread, even though I wasn't aloud to eat it.
My family almost starved to death countless times. I tried to help as much as I could from working in my mother's small bakery. I loved it ever since I started. When I was 12 years old my brother died from the flu. I loved my older brother dearly and when he died I became silent and brooding a lot. We had no medicine and barely any food. After he died I was expected to work in the fields. I got a tiny bit stronger from that, but I still was a small child. My job was to call the mocking bird whistle to let everyone know it was time to go home from work. I started to like it when I whistled my first time to the mockingjays and they whistled back in a chorus. I thought it was amazing how they copied it exactly.
When I was fourteen years old I discovered by overhearing my parents that I had depression. Apparently I had all the symptoms. I was bored most of the time with no idea on what to do, my grades were dropping drastically because I didn't care about school as much, and I never smiled or laughed any more. I call myself crazy now because that's how I view myself. Since everyone teased me and tortured my mind everywhere I went eventually I snapped.
IMG #2 CREDIT TO FROZEN
