Myriad Williams | District Eight | WIP

And sweetly, I sing a rhythm of words that matter to none. But my voice carries through their ears and lays down to rest in their minds. They applaud, they always do. My bottom lip falls backwards into my mouth and catches between my ideally aligned teeth as they spread into a smile. "Would you like to hear more?" I ask, rhetorically. Of course they do. As the crowd settles to a silence, I erupt into an opera of sounds, a requiem to its own long forgotten words. I'm accompanied only by the vast orchestra of crickets and the gasps of awe from the women who are hearing me for the first time, though there are few. Most of my crowd are regulars. Men and women who have listened to me since I was a child.

They say I look the exact same as when my daddy first started bringing me to this part of the district. I've only gotten taller. One elderly lady, that sits front and center every night, always makes sure to tell me she remembers when I was barely up to her waste and now I tower over her, making my legs a stage. My face is still rounded and innocent with my lips falling far from my skin. My short cheeks transform seamlessly into my nose that is small enough not to take your attention from my eyes. Deep and seductive, they're border is sharp and curved. My face is shaped by the brown curly locks dropping above it that reach far below my face ever could. I'm beautiful, this I know, but I'm a bitch.

Daddy started bringing me to this part of the district to shop ages ago. Thought the clothes are much more expensive, the seamstresses are better and he wants the best for his best, me. He'd also buy me dolls and bears when I was younger, but now I come alone to pick out things for myself. As a young girl I would sing sweet lullaby's and eventually some of the shop owners would ask to hear more. It evolved into something regular, and now the women give me tips. The men never pay. They flirt, and I tease. Eventually they all say "Pick out anything you want. I'll get it for you." and without pretending to be modest, I take up the offer. Most of the time they want me to go home with them. I never do-usually. 

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OH MY GOD WHY CAN'T I GET MUSE PLS KILL ME