Silka Delmont District 8

Name: Silka Delmont


Gender: Female


District/Area: District Eight


Age: Fourteen


Codeword: Odair


Appearance:


    I never try to put my hair up or let alone be satisfied with its overall look. No, never enough time in the day to be caring about my physical appearance. My dark brunette hair falls down to my shoulders and sometimes waves to one side or the other. It’s not at all fluffy or smooth, if it was silky it sure would better represent my name. Dirt and dust cover my arms each day whether I’m out collecting cotton or fur from the farms or getting my mother whatever she needs for a sewing job to be done on time. It’s not all bad though, I could be starving outside each night without a roof over my head. Or I could be freezing in the winter time, but luckily I sometimes get to keep a garment or two from whatever mom and I make, when the capitol doesn’t take it anyway. I guess you could say it sort of spoils the surprise of any birthday present I get, but hey, at least I get one. Capitol children must get so much more for nothing in return…sometimes I wonder.


    I hate working on days when the sun is high and the heat is unbearable, I’ll take cold over hot any day, but I do have to admit it gives me an okay tan. Unless you have an excuse to stay inside, almost everyone is out and getting that same tan as well. My dark, greyish blue eyes are one of the few things that make me unique around my neighborhood. I don’t take pride in them much for the color, but more for the fact that they are different from most eyes around me, light and brown. Like I said before, most nights I have a good meal on my plate, but when I get frustrated or angry at my mother, we tend to not get things done as quickly. Even with the things we eat usually, on those nights it’s never enough, and I feel as though I can see my rib cage in the mirror.


Personality:


    I try to always keep my head up high, really I do, but there’s only so many ways you can keep a person like me feeling happy and fulfilled living in District Eight. Some of the people in my classes are so happy go-lucky all the time, and everyone adores them, even me. However, I still can’t help but wonder how they can be so pleasant, so blissfully unaware of the meaninglessness of our existence. Every district is just another one of the Capitol’s pets in my opinion, no matter how rich or poor. I know I’m kind and courteous in public at least, I make sure of it, but when I begin to feel comfortable around someone, that’s when you can start to expect my anger or just slight irritableness. Maybe it has to do with how I’m very direct, always trying to get straight answers or get things done within the minimal amount of time required. That’s why I try to keep away from others as much as I can, to save myself from the embarrassment of looking like a complete monster.


    On the other hand, maybe it’s because what my mother says is right, and I am just a shy person in general. I mean it’s not the first time I would have thought just the same. When I watch the Games, if I ever have time to, I find myself always being afraid of not the dangers of the arena or the horrific mutts and traps, but of the interviews and tribute evaluations. You’d think that should be the least of my worries, but something about staring out into many Capitolite faces with the cameras rolling just gives me shivers running down my spine. My shyness would explain why I’m just a bit socially awkward around other people, and sometimes it seems I just have trouble with wording. That of course always makes me frustrated and then…then I have to start all over and find someone new. I think in one of those interviews, I would love to just mock the Capitol, and our ever so loving President Snow. But of course I can’t do that. No…no they would kill me for sure, make sure my cannon would sound on that fateful first day.


    It’s no secret that I have a slight hatred for the Capitol and its citizens, perhaps just our nation as a whole. I just wish to be free from it, away and running through the beautiful world that waits on the outside…I hope there is one, I really do. They never teach us about what lies beyond Panem, I can only hope there’s other nations, ones where you feel free and can do whatever you want. Perhaps…perhaps that’s just an insane thought. Anyway, it doesn’t help with my hatred that my mother and close friends that respect me (and are able to look past my petty anger) have seemed to resign to their fates. How could one ever simply accept this life, working, struggling, and scraping just to get by. Surely I can’t be the only person in my district to have the same mentality. That’s one of the things that irritates me about all those happy go-lucky kids, their ability to never be phased by their lives and what they have. I’ll never stop getting up early in the morning, never stop harvesting materials in the blistering heat or chilling cold, or running throughout the house sweeping the floor and grabbing different needles. I just wish that in return my mother and friends would want just as much as I did for themselves, then maybe I could feel more at peace.


History:


    I was born into the hardworking family of Randal and Aelia Delmont. As an only child, I see it as a bit of blessing, but at the same time a horrible curse. Now that it’s just the two of us, we don’t have to worry as much about food and water each day. At the same time, it just means we have to work that much harder. Also, it means whenever I get free time, I’ve no one to be around, or express my thoughts to when my friends aren’t nearby. I like to imagine that my father was a kind and free spirit, much different than how my mother is nowadays. I would ask her how he was, but that of course just seems to upset her, more than ever. I suppose I’ll never know what his personality was like, I can only assume my mother left him for her own reasons, and darn good ones I hope.


    Nowadays, my mother carry’s on my father’s trade of creating textiles, which I guess everyone around my neighborhood does if I was to look around. There’s not exactly much diversity within the districts, and if you were to try much else you probably wouldn’t make it. Because of this, a typical day in my life revolves around running throughout the house looking for tools or other seemingly useless items for my mother to complete whatever current project she’s completing. She’s always happy and content during work time, like I said before, having “resigned to her fate”. If she wasn’t as happy with her work, we could be living in a much worse situation than we are now. Our house is certainly not the worst in the district, and we’re not that high maintenance, considering there’s only the two of us. Sometimes a thought comes in to my mind that I could take in one of those other kids, who don’t have a home or are simply living a much poorer life. But then, we could never manage that, I myself wouldn’t be any help at welcoming a new guest.


    As much of a loner as I am, over the years I still have managed to pick up a couple of close friends who like me for me, and don’t care that I have the occasional outburst of anger. There’s Althea, Briar, and Tessa. Their idea of ever becoming something more than a tailor in District Eight is something like winning the annual Hunger Games. I’ve never cared for that, all the fame and glory included. I’d much more prefer a stable, simple life in another land, one which perhaps only exists in my mind. Anyway, I’m quite confident in the fact that they’d never win, as much as I love them, they’re much too weak-minded for the horrific nature of the games. Even with my strong will, my chances wouldn’t be much improved, I’m only fourteen, and I’d need more meat on my body if I was to even survive the issues of hunger and dehydration. So no, winning isn’t an option. Now…now I need to find a way to make myself feel contempt. They’re calling me now, to go and probably run through the cotton farms, maybe when I’m back I’ll feel more comfortable, more down to earth. Then I can take a deep breath, and let go of any troubles I might have.