Cyder | District Two | DONE!

Looking in a mirror, the twelve year old girl sees someone with soft, tiny feet that both seem to be covered up with a shoe most of the time. They seem very bony as if she isn't very strong as a person yet. Maybe she doesn't even want to be strong in the first place. Maybe the girl just wants to live a calm, relaxing life. Just to forget her horrid history and live life as it should be lived. Not practicing for some stupid game that killed twenty-three people- no, no. That was too brutal for the girl. She didn't want to even be part of their game. It seems disturbing that so many people in her district desires that crown on their head. Most of the time, the victors came out wounded. 

Her twig-shaped legs aren't much of a sight. Soft, white, and almost perfectly unharmed. The girl's chest is slim, not very muscled at all. If you were to see her back though, that's a very different story. Scars from her father back when she was younger reveal her shy, independent nature. At the even thought of her father, the girl shivered in disgust. She hated him with her whole heart- he created her childhood into a living hell. Her neck isn't very muscled, almost the same as everything else. Reaching her face, it seems so youthful yet so depressed at the same time; sometimes people find it hard to look at her with her kind face and depressing demeanor. The girl has a small mouth. Not much about it, but normally shaped in a slight frown around others. Her nose is slightly pointed, and almost gives off a snobbish kind of feeling. Her bright, sparkling blue eyes are full of fear and confusion. Her large forehead stands out- kind of like a black sheep. Cyder's bright blonde hair would normally be put up in a pony-tail, she doesn't really like her hair in her face. Her wardrobe isn't top-notch, really. It would normally be her long-sleeved t-shirt along with shorter shorts. 

She normally likes being and working by herself. Nobody inside her district is that trustworthy, or what she would like to think. Everyone was too focused on practicing on killing people or telling people what to do. Cyder? She would normally prefer a book and pencil to write with. Her feelings are normally written out, and normally she talks through writing. Why is that so? Can't she just talk to people? Well that's the problem. She's deaf, which causes her to be easily ignored and seen to be a weakling. Which is true, she had to admit it. The girl is very shy- she doesn't really like talking to anyone because it's really difficult for her to really get a conversation going when barely anyone knows sign language. Another cause of this would be her father beating her, her father made Cyder think that everyone in the world was bad.

She doesn't really accept new friendships easily. Since she's more stuck towards herself and being by herself- she's normally grown the habit to not really accept people as friends easily. Which may or may not be a good thing if she were to be ever in the games because friends meant allies, right? The girl at least assumed that. But off of that topic, she is also very artistic. Whenever she has the chance to, the girl has her small drawing pad flipped open and she's drawing out her feelings. Cyder doesn't normally like speaking her feelings and thoughts- because people sometimes assume that she can hear so they'd be attempting to talk to her. The girl would normally give him/her some kind of weird look which they'd find rude, and leave. She never means to imply it in a rude way- she just has no clue of what they're even saying. Every so often when Cyder would be around another girl she'd get butterflies in her stomach. She didn't know why, was it because that they looked like her mother? No. Well, eventually she knew. Cyder is lesbian, which she didn't really mind. It meant she didn't have to deal with dating guys that were like her father.

Cyder also likes to write, her mother had taught her how to write a little bit as the girl was a child. And ever since her mother had disappeared, writing was the girl's only memory of her mother. She would normally write short-stories, about people who lived in a world that was totally unlike the one she herself lived in. Cyder wrote stories about a world that everyone could live peacefully, and calmly. No worries about getting reaped and being sent to the Hunger Games and probably dying if you were to try to win. Of course if she were to be sent in, she might try a little bit. Like, some perks of being in a career district- but she highly doubted that she'd get into the career pack. So with that- she also has some faith in whatever she does. Which is a good thing- faith is the only way she knows for sure what to most of the time. And in Cyder's world, faith is the only thing she has.

Cyder was born as a young child- and it stayed that way. She had to admit, at first being an only child was awesome because she got whatever she wanted. As a baby she was practically queen bee in the house, which she didn't mind a whole lot. She had grown up always at her mother's side, as her mother was less forceful and disrespectful towards girls like her father. What Cyder didn't know, though, was that all the money they were getting was from her mother stealing from stores and shops to keep her family safe. But besides that, it was a fun early childhood, Cyder got to learn how to write, read, and paint which is, was, and always will be her favorite activities.

One day, though, at the age of six Cyder had decided to stay home. She waited at the door hours on end for her mother to come back. The girl was getting worried- where was her mother? She was gone for almost eight hours by the time a bunch of peacekeepers burst into house. They started taking almost all the items in her house- and Cyder didn't know why. The girl couldn't say anything because she wouldn't be able to understand what they were saying back to her. "W-w-where's my mother?" The girl asked, sobbing to herself. Cyder just wanted her mother- nobody else. She couldn't hear anything of what they were saying- and she just screamed and stormed to her room. She never heard from her mother since.

Her father took the opportunity as a chance to give Cyder her worst childhood imaginable. Whenever she whined about something- her father would beat her. Her father would keep yelling and yelling at her- it was almost like he forgot she was deaf. But she knew he didn't forget- Cyder knew that he was just teasing her, almost saying she's a disgrace for being deaf. Eventually after three years her father did start to lighten up a bit on the beatings- but he still did it on a regular basis like it was some kind of schedule. After two more years, at the age of eleven the girl couldn't take it anymore. She had to tell someone. So, she went to a peacekeeper. Cyder knew that she wouldn't be able to hear him/her, but Cyder didn't care. She just wanted out of her god damn hell of a father's life.
*flashback*

"I hope you at least have heard at least one of my screams for the past five damn years while my father has been beating me. Are you gonna be doing anything about it?" The girl had said, storming up to a peacekeeper. After seeming so demanding and being pretty sure peacekeepers wouldn't normally accept that kind of tone talking to them she had quickly apologized back. "Uh, sorry. But could you write your answer on paper?" The girl asked, she assumed the peacekeeper understood and had written something along the lines of 'Do you have proof?'. Raising her eyebrows, the girl turned around and showed him her back that was almost dancing with scars from whips and bruises from fists.The peacekeeper nodded and wrote down something again saying that he'd get back to her soon.

*end of flashback*

The girl almost had a skip in her step for a whole week. And the week after she spoke to the peacekeeper, her father got taken away and she was sent to a foster home. The foster home was her home from then to now, about three or four months. She still has the vivid memories of her father, but they are slowly decreasing and fading away. Now that she is twelve she can enter the reaping. The girl didn't really care if she was being signed up for death- she already was close enough multiple times by her father from him whipping her. But there's a very small chance of her being reaped, right? Right.

Codeword: odair

Other: #firstd2evaa