lyza'beth pip:||: D4 :||: FIN

I was born into a family of no one. My mother died in childbirth, by father no where to be heard of, no siblings that I know of, and no distant family. Tragic right? Well its not, the hell with the hand I was dealt, life was just a game of strategy, and I was planning on coming out on top. I would whittle my own path, hop over the pawns that stand in my way. I could not be controlled, I could not become a victim. I had not a damn cent to my name, meaning after a few years being nurtured out of diapers, the streets become my stomping grounds. I wore the same plain clothing that I had been given years before, and my chestnut hair fell in oily rivets. I had rarely found time to have a haircut, therefore my hair was overgrown, weighting my shoulders with its mass. It spiraled down my back, ending near the beginning of my hips. The summers where hot, but the winters warm. My skin was an olive color, covered with the grime of district four. Covered in the dirt deep within the cracks of the concrete. 

My body was thin, pale to the eyes, and rough to the touch. I was a bit above average height, standing at about five feet six inches. My physique was rather bony, but I was solid. My appearance meant that I was avoided by children my age, avoided by parents, avoided by teachers...avoided by everyone. I would be lucky to get a harsh stare from some bitch deserving of a mouth full of fist. I didn't take insults lightly, I simply shut them up, hoped over them, eliminating them from my game. I guess you could say I had a thick skin, but that didn't mean it was never broken. My eyes where a pale green, framed with dark lashes. They had seen the hatred of real man, and watched the kindness of the humbly rich. I was a young girl, therefore begging got me much of what I needed. I was of course much better at begging for coin simply because of my gender. Many men assuming that I would do them a "favor" for their generous donation. But they were quickly corrected, I was a girl of morals, I don't mess with that bullshit. 

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I was stone hearted, I didn't have time to let emotions collide with survival. I mean I was in District Four, so I'm sure finding help is easier then some districts, but it didn't matter I still had to be more aware of myself. I couldn't wonder around like some of those arrogant assholes that have not a damn worry. I was never sure of my next meal, though I was usually given coin quiet frequently, meaning I rarely missed a meal. I didn't spend much money on appearance, I was already thought of as rather unapproachable, and i liked that. I didn't want any of those no good spoiled brats brushing off on me. As much as I hate to say it, I knew I was better then every last one of them. I am simply more sane, more aware. How could you fumble through life never having to worry? You simply would never develop. 

I was born to raise myself, therefore I had no maternal instincts. No mother to take after, no father to life envious of. No siblings to compete with, I was simply the queen of my own world. I loved that. At least I told myself that I loved that, I had to, it was all I had to hold on to. Being alone wasn't something to be afraid of, it was something that I preferred. Loneliness was something that never could never be a part of me, because I was always alone, how could I differentiate what loneliness felt like? I hated pity, I would deny any attempt to make me feel better about my situation. I had no problem with my situation, why would I need your two cents? I cut myself off from those that tried to pity me, I denied their money, I made enough without them. I took myself to school, because school was something that wasn't going to come to me. And I needed something more to do then sit on the streets edge anyhow. It gave me a chance to learn something, maybe eventually become something after my years of adolescents. Being under eighteen was overrated, I wanted nothing more then to be considered an adult. 

I hated affection of any kind. I didn't want your hands on me, why would I? Is you touching me someone going to better me? Because I know that affection is simply a trick. An illusion to simply distract from the game that must be won. I was going to win alone, I wanted no person taking my glory. Hm, I hated to share, and victory is the one thing I would hate to share most. I guess the motto "sharing ins caring" never really applied to my life. It was more like "beg until your stomach is full". I would be caught dead giving my earnings to some no good piece of trash that wasn't capable of getting it themselves. I guess this could be considered selfish, but I thought it to be fair. 

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I was alone, most of my life, couldn't remember the faces of those that raised me out of infancy. Most likely because it was a different person almost weekly. I never had a stable place to stay, and as of the age of ten I had no where to stay period. I was so alone, fearful of the biting cold, and hateful of the stinging rays of sun. I wanted to make a difference. I wanted a house to stay in, I would get myself a humble home, I was determined. I needed something that was valuable enough to provide for me for a long while. I would have to find it. So at only ten years old I approached a very large house, it had a beautiful garden, and freshly painted walls. it was of course a home for people of wealth. I wanted to just take what I needed no more. I would find a hatch, along the edge of the house I squeezed myself into the tight opening, and I had entered the beautiful home. I wasn't afraid, I was simply curious. 

I was numb, unable to move in this massive house. It seemed so ridiculous to need this much space. It was gloriously beautiful. I began to walk through the home, and it wasn't long before a hand had met my shoulder. It made me jump, I was frightened by the women that was so viciously holding on to me. I wanted to scream, but there was no one to save me. She through me into a room of other girls, and forced me to do their house work. I had become a house servant. I had no one to miss me, no one to even notice my absents. I was stuck in this house of hell. I had been here for seven years now. Climbing the ropes, watching some girls stay, and others go. And by go it normally meant they were killed sometime down the line. When the owners no longer found use for any of us, they disposed of us. That is why you had to stay appealing, you had to climb the ropes, let the weak stay weak. 

After the first few years of being stuck here, I became use to the care. I was fed and clothed, and only for a few homely choirs. I didn't complain too much, but I was taken from school, and that made me angry. I wanted to become something better then a housemaid. I would get out of here, I would just have to wait until the time was right. I was going to get what I could out of this first, get to survive from labor.It made me feel more normal, for the first time in a long time I had reason to maintain myself. So I grew into my looks, beginning to become more beautiful with age, though I was still rather average looking to some of the girls here. I had no responsibilities, I had no cares. I deserve a break like this, and though there are strict rules I have to live by. I could make due, I could thrive. But I will never become too attached, because I was going to leave this captivity, I was going to win the game of life, no matter the boundaries.