anna cresswell {three} fin

anna cresswell {three} fin Mar 20, 2017 12:20:30 GMT -5

Quote

Post by solo on Mar 20, 2017 12:20:30 GMT -5

ANNA CRESSWELL

My name is Anna Maria Cresswell. You can call me Anna, or Your Highness, it's up to you really. Maria is my middle name, same as my Mum's first name. I'm twelve years, three months, one week, and four days old. I'd give you the time except I'm not so good at math. I'm turning thirteen once August comes around. I've lived in District Three my whole life, but I guess that's kind of obvious, since traveling between Districts isn't exactly allowed.

I've got one brother. His name's Simon, and he's a year older than me. People are always telling us we look alike. Same droopy eye shape, same snub noses (although his is a little wider than mine), same thin lips. Both of us have ashy blonde hair, but obviously mine's longer than his. I grew it as long as I could until I was nine, but then it got too difficult to untangle, so Mum started cutting it short for me. Now it's kinda curly and just touches my shoulders. Sometimes I like tying a braid down the side of it.

Simon's eyebrows match his hair color and are quite thin, but mine tend to be bushier and are a much darker shade, more brown than blonde. Both of us have ears a little too big for our heads. His stick out like a monkey's, but I can usually hide mine with my hair, which is nice. Not that I mind having big ears. Simon's done a couple of tests to see if I have super-hearing, but so far, the results have been inconclusive.

I'm shorter than him by a couple of inches. I think that makes me somewhere around 4' 9", although I can't be sure. Simon's eyes are pale blue, like my Dad's, while mine are more green than anything else. I like having green eyes. Most folks have got blue or brown, so I suppose I kind of stick out in that way.

Simon and I have always been best friends. Yeah, he's a boy, and he's kind of annoying, but I like him. I've checked, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't have cooties. Of course, every other boy in the world is completely infested with them. Simon says he can tell who has cooties and who doesn't, and he always says the boys have them. The girls are generally cleaner.

Ever since we were little, we've been able to talk to each other non-stop throughout the whole day. That's probably what drives our teachers so crazy in class. I've never done extremely well in school. I'm a bit of an oddball (or at least, that's what Dad calls me). I don't like coloring inside the lines, numbers don't line up properly in my head, I can't read very well. I used to be embarrassed about that. I don't mind anymore. Mum has told me I might have something called dyslexia, but we've never looked into it, because my grades are good enough to pass.

When I turned eight years old, Simon brought me home a kitten as a birthday present. He's grey and fuzzy and likes sitting in my lap or out in the sunshine. I was a bit disappointed that it wasn't a dog, but I kept him anyways, cause he was kinda cute. Mum and Dad said we could keep him cause he's a good mouser. I wasn't sure what to name him, so Simon started calling him Bartholomew, and it's stuck ever since. Now he's all grown up and follows us all the way to school in the mornings. I guess he's kind of like a dog.

I've asked my parents for a dog a few times, but they always tell me it would cost too much, and that we don't have enough extra food. So instead I'm stuck feeding scraps to the strays in the allies and the Town Square, sometimes bringing a bucket of water and soap out to clean them. Simon helps me, and we always get in trouble. Dad says it's a waste of time and soap. But obviously, someone has to clean up the poor things, and it might as well be me.

I've never broken a bone in my life, but I do have a tendency to get what Mum and Dad call concussions. I've had three so far. Mum says I must have a sensitive head, because it's usually just a small tumble or a little bonk that causes it. I always hate it when I get one. My parents make me stay in bed all day, and they won't let Simon talk to me for very long. He does his best to come in every day though, decked out with his own handmade stethoscope and a box full of band-aids he says will make me better. He gives me a sugar cube if I let him wrap bandages around my head.

A few years ago, maybe when I was nine or ten, Simon made me wear a helmet everywhere I went. The thing was black and chunky, so of course I had to decorate it. I brought home some foam stickers, plastic gems, and glitter from school that day, and I decorated it to look much nicer than it did originally. It was a Friday, so I wore it around the house with pride for the whole weekend. When we went to school on Monday though, one of our teachers recognized the decorations I used, and told me it wasn't very good of me to steal craft supplies from the school. I promised her I'd only intended to borrow them, but she didn't seem to understand that. So I had to leave the helmet and go home without it. Simon was a little disappointed at the time, but he's gotten over it. I told him that he'd just have to take extra good care of me the next time I bumped my head.

I've always had an obsession with hats. We can't afford too many of them, but Mum lets me wear her's (even though they're too big), and sometimes she and Dad will get me one for my birthday. Wide brims, flowers, ribbons, bright colors, anything that looks pretty. I like it all. I have a set of hooks in my bedroom wear I keep them all, neatly lined up and ready to be used. I'm almost always wearing a hat, sometimes even indoors. Simon is trying to figure out if they'll protect me from hitting my head, but neither of us can remember whether or not I was wearing one when I got the last three concussions. He says we need to gather more data before we can prove anything.

So, that's me. I could go on and on, but I know most people get bored when they listen to me for too long. Of course, I don't mind. I like being able to hold up both ends of the conversation.

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