Xyax Zabielski d12 {done}

Appearance

Silence. It consumes every inch of my body as it travels throughout my body into the depths of my brain. Hidden behind my curly locks of blonde hair hair is a pair of ears that refuse to work. My twin brother has stood next to me with his lips next to my ears trying to shout words through them, but it never works. All I hear is silence, and I feel his breath upon my neck causing the tiny hairs to rise into the sky. It’s horrible living in a world where sounds are extinct, yet it doesn’t shape who I am. What makes me, me is the simple happiness living behind a broken smile. Chapped lips twists across my face. Yellow stained teeth seep into the brightness when beams of sunlight bears down upon them, but even then, the yellow is always there. Bad breath flies into the air with each breath I take. What is bad, is good, and what is good is bad.

Tiny hands wrap around a pencil before scribbling life into existence. Portraits are drawn together. Family photos. Anything anyone could ever imagine. And I always stare at myself like I’m drawing my twin brother. Pale blue eyes stare up at me like I was looking at my own reflection in the dust stained mirror. A large, crooked nose eats away at my face blocking out everything else. One time my brother thought it was a good idea to fight one another only his fist connected with my nose breaking it, and it never grew back properly. Smelling isn’t easy anymore. Some scents don’t register anymore, and breathing through my nose has become such a horrible challenge. Perhaps it’s why my mouth is always open a bit.

Dirt cakes against my skin each passing day, and no matter how many times I scrub my face, it just doesn’t go away. Cracked nails frantically search for a clean new style, but it’s all gone. Clean is a word that doesn’t exist anymore. Red stains the whites of my eyes, and huge bags circle beneath them on a regular basis from lack of sleep. Many times I’m awake before the sun rises, and I fall asleep way after the moon rises into the sky. I always stare out the cracked windows wondering what the night sounds like. It’s always on my mind every second of every single day. Yet these questions will always go unanswered as it feels like the only way to find out is to die. And I don’t want to die.

Personality

It’s hard to go through life with my parents expecting great things from me. All they want is for me to grow up and become the best, but the silence holds me back. I long for the chance to break the chains holding me back, yet the harder I fight against them they drag me back. Tears stream down my face many nights as silents sobs shake throughout my entire body. It’s a horrible fate feeling tied down to a world where it moves on without me leaving me behind in it’s tracks, yet what doesn’t kill me will only make me stronger. Ma and Pa keep pressing me forward because they know what I’m capable of although it feels so far away. It eats away at my insides making me feel not good enough especially when I fall. Their expectations are so high it makes me fall such a great distance towards the ground as I spiral downwards into the pits of the unknown.

But each breath gives me hope. Someone reaches for my broken body pulling me to my feet instead of kicking me like I’m nothing. Sometimes people only seek to destroy those who fall, yet it’s in the moment when someone helps me stand on my own two feet again that I see the light. All I long for a friendship because just spending every waking second with my twin brother isn’t a life I want to live. He helps me more than anyone else in the world, but I can’t give back to him. I can’t tell him a story, and I can’t sit on the porch listening to the rain as it falls from the sky landing on the old roof. I can, but it just isn’t the same because the sounds aren’t there. He tries telling me what it sounds like through words written on a fragile sheet of paper. If I close my eyes long enough, I pretend I hear the sounds, yet the moment my eyes open the imagination is gone.

Yet every second of life is a miracle in the world I live in. I’m never promised my next breath, and for each time I breathe, I’m thankful. I want to live life knowing that I may not wake up, or that I may not even make my next step. I try to help those out who are in need even if it’s just a simple hand picking up items they’ve dropped on the ground below them. Or offering a jacket to them in the middle of the winter. Sometimes people are worse off than I am. Maybe they want a portrait of a family member who fell victim to the harsh life of Panem. Or maybe all they want is someone to sit beside them as they fall asleep. Anything I’m capable of doing, I do. I love helping those in need because so many have helped me, and it’s the least I can do.

History

Growing up hasn’t been easy. Ma and Pa try to give us the best life we can have, but sacrifices must be made. Pa works endless hours in the mines doing his best to keep us alive and going. Ma works at home taking care of the house. Life was probably a lot easier for them before me and my brother were born. Eighteen years ago we came into the world together with an unbreakable bond. It’s a bond that runs much deeper than any other type of bond. We spent nine months together before anyone even knew we were two. I can only imagine the shock on their face as they stared into our eyes for the first time. But if that wasn’t enough, when I was two years old, my only sister was brought into the world. And then again at the age of six my youngest brother was born.

Ma would always gather us together in one room before it was sleeping time, and she would open a book in her lap reading from it. Many times I would try to pretend to understand what was going on, but it wasn’t ever enough to work. Since nobody else would help me, my sister took me aside one day and we came up with a way of communicating through hand movements. Only we knew what each movement meant, but it gave me a way to grow. A way to learn. Each night after that, she would sit beside me moving her hands signing the words to the story for me. It was nice knowing what Ma was reading from the book, and it made life so much easier. I developed a bond with her, but it wasn’t nearly as strong as the bond I had with my twin brother.

When the sunsets behind the sky, me and my siblings go outside looking for something to do. Many times I find myself holding one of Ma’s books in my hand. I’ll sit underneath a tree reading to myself as everyone else goes their own ways. I’ve grown to love reading because it gives me an adventure to go on. I’ve always been adventurous, and sometimes the stories make no sense at all, yet it’s a chance to use my imagination. One book that interests me the most is a book that has many plants inside of it. Ma collects plants, and as part of her hobby, she presses each plant in the book before writing a description underneath it. Sometimes when I’m extremely hungry, I’ll go find the plants she said were edible. The taste is disgusting, yet it’s enough to bring my back to life.

School is always hard, but I’m so glad that my sister is near me because when nobody's looking, she signs the words spoken by the teachers. I usually just look at the reading material in front of me because it’s easier, yet the explanations aren’t always understandable in the midst of learning. I’ve never been good at school, but I try. That’s all anyone can ever ask for. But one question always lingers on my mind. Does the stuff the teachers teach really matter in Panem? I mean all we really need to know is why Panem is the way it is today. That a rebellion forced the hunger games, and that the districts are at the mercy of the Capitol. Does anything else taught really matter? It’s one question that I may never know the answer to.