Dahlia Krearns :||: D4 :||: FIN

grim. Capitol Resident 1,081 POSTS last seen Sept 30, 2020 18:45:26 GMT -5	Dahlia Krearns :\|\|: D4 :\|\|: FIN Nov 13, 2015 23:05:41 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by grim. on Nov 13, 2015 23:05:41 GMT -5 DAHLIA KREARNS. Seventeen\|District Four\|Female FC: Paula Bulczynska permission from Tom ofc <333 Appearance: Personality: -seductive -manipulative -abusive -defensive -afraid History: sad shit yo.
	Last Edit: Nov 17, 2015 1:02:03 GMT -5 by grim. where my demons hide.

grim.
Capitol Resident

1,081 POSTS
last seen Sept 30, 2020 18:45:26 GMT -5

Dahlia Krearns :||: D4 :||: FIN Nov 14, 2015 12:44:41 GMT -5

Quote

Post by grim. on Nov 14, 2015 12:44:41 GMT -5

says,thinks,hears

With the song of a fluttering dove, he left the world, and so had I.
---

"Why had you been so gullible"
"In what way...?"

"To fall for a girl who will only toy with your heart."
"What can I say, I flock to you like doves to bread crumbs."

Those were the last words I had heard from him, before the incident.

---

I was raised in a home where vanity was something of fairy tales. I had little time to ponder on such things. I was forced to train, and train hard. My parents would not let me fail, not like my cousins. I worked for endless hours toward nothing, and it made for nonsense. I was afraid, afraid of entering an arena when I had known I was not prepared. But Papa wanted a victor, and to him I must bow. I was not made to fight, nor disrespect, and that is why he had gotten the best of me. My cyan blue eyes where blind to the madness the mans fists held. The firm stone that rests within his chest. I had been built like an average District Four girl. Much of which added up to the reasoning for Papa wanting me to train so hard. I was tall, lean, a body made to glide through the fished oceans of District Four. I had been fishing with my Papa since birth, but after the deaths of my cousins, it all came to a sudden stop. Papa would not let me die.

I watch as he circles about me like a soaring hawk, his vision always waiting to dive down and correct my behavior. But since the betrayal of blood, I no longer succumb to what he spits. I had hated how much I looked like him. Hair as dark black as the swaying bunched of seaweed deep in the depths of the sea. My skin a leathery olive tone. Touched by the rays of sun that beat down on us. I had blisters festering along my fingers. Many hours of knot tying would do that to someone. His lean towering figure, his muffled tone, his pearly teeth. There was no difference between him and I, and it caused my stomach to churn. The training left me with bruises and blisters in more places then just my fingers. I was losing the childhood that I had been fed for so long. I was beginning to feel my body build with muscle in places that a swimmer would never need. It had always been Papa's request for me to live strong, but now it had become a reality, a force of survival. Without it he believed I was less then worthless. After I had given up training, he had begun treating me like I was already six feet underneath the soil. And in a sense I was, or at least wanted to be.

---

Like the splash of a spear through the surface of the water, I spit to my father in disgust. He was the spawn of Lucifer himself, and with his actions he had already lost me. I found it necessary to find ways to disrupt the peace in our household, to find ways to make chaos. For the deity herself was wrapped within my shadows. I liked the scent of rum in my nostril, the speckle of powder above my lip. I lived for the cries of my mother, and the screams of my father. It made for a rather enjoyable scene, watching them pick apart the swollen red hickies upon my neck, or gasp at the bloodshot outer ring of my pupils. Since my little run of rebellion, I found a way to force fear into the eyes that once showed my torture, those that have ripped the very thought of love form my soul. Isn't it quiet comical? The idea of how horribly parents can fuck up.

In reality this was all an act. Simply a joker card of a deck of norms. I was afraid of being taken advantage of. Sure, all of the bad habits had become a part of my daily routine, but it brought me no satisfaction. I had no room for fear, for neglect. And so it was I who would play the villain, for I don't believe the victim ever wins. When hours of screaming and cussing rings through my skull, I simply smile, for I had known the torment I may cause. But they will never understand or even comprehend the torment they had made me endure. This was only child's play. Alone I may cry and curl into the wedge of a broken home, but with an audience a show must always be at the ready.

It wasn't long before my petty crimes become rather unamusing to my parents. I could sense the bit of giving up melting form their expressions. This would only mean that I would try harder. I would make them cringe in disappointment, it was my only joy in life. But drunk nights, turned into drunk weeks, and drunk months, and eventually a year of forgotten days. I was on the brink of extinction, and so I returned to the shallow end. Almost as quickly as it all began I found an end to it all. This of course had meant that I would have to regain equilibrium. I would have to dispose of this chaos that I had rolled out the welcoming mat for. But never would the words "I'm sorry" leave my lips. For Papa never gave me the same pleasure.

---

"Its okay to be afraid."

"I'm not afraid, I've already drown in the serenity of your presents."

"Remember this moment."

"Why?"

"Cause this is the moment I lost my heart to a girl named Dahlia Krearns."

I remember that day like it was only moments ago. It was the day I gave my heart away to a silly boy I had barely known, but I had known it was all worth it. He was the reason for my sanity, for my capability of functioning in any kind of "normal way"

---

Since my toes were capable of feeling the burning sand between them, I sat beside my Papa on the beach. His hand wrapped around mine, holding my grip around the fishing net. He was the best of teachers, and most of the time I miss those days of innocence. I remember being so close to my cousins, to everyone who shared the blood of Krearns. The deaths among our family had caused for so much separation. More so then before, I had watched my father darken, almost as if he was a painting that went from color to black and white. He became so dull, even more caught up in the art of fishing. He stopped taking me with him, and began forcing me through endless hours of brutal training. He had turned me into a career, and it all was for my safety. He said "it was out of love". But it felt like it was out of fear. To this day I feel the scars from my failure, how harsh the fist of my trainer had felt. How my body ached, and my mind sputtered. I will never forget the amount of broken bones, and bloodied hands that had come from a childhood of fear.

When I had turned fifteen, I had begun developing feelings that I was uncomfortable with. many of which had to do with other people. I had felt unwanted...lonely. I needed some sort of outlet, and that is when a boy only a year older then me, started spectating my training sessions. At first I found it odd, why had he wanted to watch me so closely? But in time I began to get comfortable with his presents, with his eyes watching my bodies every movement, and I began to like it very much. I later discovered his name was Granet, he lived with his mother and two younger sisters. Within days I began seeing him in more then just my training sessions. I found myself standing near him, this of course caused for words to be shared between us, and in words there bloomed friendship. After about a week of friendship things escalated to a whole new level. I felt my palms sweat, and my heart race when he touched me.

Within weeks my hands were within his and my lips against his. This led to the absence of my sessions, and a livid Papa. I never understood why his anger increased after the death of my cousins, but it had seemed like a rope was tied around his heart, and someone was pulling at it with with envy. I watched as my father met Granet for the first time. The three of us standing above the cliff where the sunset radiated the most beautiful colors. But my fathers anger caused for echoes along the sea shore, and the shaking of my bones. He pushed closer to Granet edging closer and closer to the edge, and before I was capable of mustering up the courage to stand between them, one big thrust of my Papa's arm, and the boy who had grabbed hold of my heart, fell to his death. Papa promised it was an accident, but an accident of necessary grounds. He forced me to keep quiet, to keep his innocence. That is when the world became black. When all was forgotten with the help of vanity and sin, but with all of that I am reborn. But never again would I feel love for the man who I share a home with. I would not let this burden shape me. I deserved to love, and be loved.

The lose of a single dove saddened my heart, but doves fly in flocks, and I will fly among them once more.

Last Edit: Nov 17, 2015 1:04:34 GMT -5 by grim.

where my demons hide.

grim. Capitol Resident 1,081 POSTS last seen Sept 30, 2020 18:45:26 GMT -5	Dahlia Krearns :\|\|: D4 :\|\|: FIN Nov 17, 2015 0:27:45 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by grim. on Nov 17, 2015 0:27:45 GMT -5 fin.
	where my demons hide.

Rosetta Retired Staff 1,872 POSTS last seen Aug 5, 2020 8:28:28 GMT -5	Dahlia Krearns :\|\|: D4 :\|\|: FIN Nov 18, 2015 8:27:54 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by Rosetta on Nov 18, 2015 8:27:54 GMT -5 Accepted!
	^^Made by the excellent Shrimp!