Jenny Sycamore | District 7 | CB | FIN

She lives in the forest.

Not because she has too, or because she forced herself too, but because she feels at home there.

The feeling of the dirt against her bare feet, her hands wrapping around tree trunks, pulling herself up top the tallest trees just to get a good look at the world she lived in.

She has never been the type to see the world as a small picture, instead, she saw it as a canvas. It was bare for her, and that meant that she could do whatever she needed to do in order to shape it the way she wanted it.

Her family built their house from nothing, using what wood they could in order to make something they could call home. A sanctuary they could pray in if they ever felt like it.

When she was in its walls, she felt at peace with herself.

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While she loved the quiet, she realized that she wanted to do more with her hands.

She collected things that might seem odd in district seven. Pocketknives and flint. Firewood and poisonous berries. But with these twos, she found a way to make sculptures that gave her just enough to feel something.

Her family was never the kindest to her, but when she felt like she was being boxed in, she turned to these sculptures to release the anger that she had felt.

However, the moment she felt at peace again.

She burned them at the stake.

After all, no one needed to know how she really felt.