Burr Wildon//D12//CB1//Fin

17 * District Twelve * Male

Paper is hard to come by in District Twelve, but I have a special talent for finding it. Scrambling through trash bins, mostly by the Peacekeeper barracks, and stealing it off the meat mother buys from the butcher. I collect it all. There are hardly any books in Twelve, and the ones that are here I've already read multiple times. I know every mining manual, every Panem propaganda poster, and every store advertisement. So, I decided to make my own. On this little scraps of paper I scribble about a little girl on an adventure. She's about my age, a little younger, and she travels to the stars. I call her Andromeda. She's my creation and I follow her through every misstep and victory. My brothers don't like her. They keep saying that once I'm eighteen that I won't have time to dawdle with her and her stories. I'll have to go down into the earth with them and breathe in the dark dust. I don't want to.
Andromeda always has fresh air to breathe.
And food to eat.
I wish I could be with her- up in the stars.
Instead, I'll be sentenced to live a life with hard wrinkles filled with black dust in my already dark skin. My brothers keep saying how they're gonna cut off my long curls- that they'll be too dirty after even a minute down below.
They're cruel. They've never touched a star.

But I have. Through my pencil, I have seen everything.

Please don't take my everything from me.