Porter Collins, D5 [new:apocalypse]

I have a very round face and full cheeks. If you haven't noticed, I am a bit on the chubby side, yet it doesn't really bother me that much. I personally don't think much of it, due to the fact that in the districts, you're lucky to be fat. I try to avoid the fat word, since I only weigh about thirty pounds or so over the average weight of a male my age. I'm not sure why I'm fat, I just accept that I always have been and move on with it.

I have very light skin, which will burn easy in the summer sun, so I can be a bit of a house owl when she sun's heavy. My eyes are a bit smaller than "the normal person's," and are a dull blue gray shade. I have always wanted vibrant blue eyes, like my Father, but that will have to wait forever. My nose is a bit round and misshapen due t three breaking experiences, one of which involved a cat, a dog, and any angry squirrel. My lips are somewhere in the middle of full and thin, leaning more towards thin in my eyes than full.

My hair is a dark brownish blond color and very messy and un-groomed. It used to be a lighter blond brown shade, with the blond much more vibrant, only slowly as I got older, my hair got darker and thus, the blond faded away. Now my hair falls down over my forehead to form slicked down bangs, and ruffles up the falls back down again all over. It gives me a rough look, in my opinion, even though I really don't want to look rough. I just really gave up on my appearance a while ago.

I am strong, only not many people believe me when I tell them that I am strong and actually have muscles. They just say it's flab because I'm fat and I'm just trying to gain female friends. I do have muscle under there, don't get me wrong. I am strong! I am tall, as well, around 5'11 and still growing. My guess is I'll be around six feet before I stop growing for sure.

This is making me feel a bit odd. I've never told anyone about myself this in-depth before.

I've always been a quite guy. I've never really liked to talk, I just like being known as the guy who silently stands in the corner, tall as a stack of ten crates and somewhat muscular. I just don't feel like talking is a way to really make yourself happy- it just makes your mouth dry. So, you can say I'm a shy boy, which I'll admit, I am. I do talk, just around people that have been in my family and I've known forever, and some friends I've known since I was a little boy. Otherwise, i prefer to keep my mouth shut unless I am spoken to.

Even though I do not speak much, I like to consider myself a helpful guardian. Ever since what happened to my little sister I've always tried to look over everything I can and try to be helpful, yet still avoid moving my ugly lips. I sometimes consider myself the "Neighborhood Watchdog" even though I'm not a dog. My hair looks somewhat like a dog's messy fur, if it doesn't have the love of a little girl or boy to brush and play with it all the time. I have always watched over everything and tried to protect everything I can and do what is in my power to save them.

I may sound friendly, but there's a dark side to me. Sometimes I'll come home and have these totally random bouts of anger, where I'll throw chairs, smash vases, kick objects I shouldn't kick, just go on a trail of mass destruction like a tornado, even though I'm not really sure what a tornado is. I've been scolded many a time for my random anger bouts, since they are always violent. I usually suffer through one every month or so. After I'm done with the violent smashing, kicking, ect, the anger will hover over me like a violent storm for a few days after wards, ruining my mood and stealing away the guardian inside of me. Then, after hat passes, I'll fall into my Mother's arms and sob my eyes out. Then the depression comes. That will stick with me for a week or so, always making me second guess myself and just wish I had never been born. that Rosie and I could have switched places, and she would be here, living the life she should have been. Then, sometimes, I'll hear a voice in my head. "It's your fault, It's your fault, it's YOUR FAULT!"

I was born to a happy couple as their first child. Pauper and Lilli Collins had always wanted a baby- only they wanted a girl, and instead they got an overweight, always crying baby boy. Dad was okay that he had a son. Mom couldn't have been more disappointed. They named me Porter. My Dad always wished he could have lived in District Four and see the brilliant sea ports. Mom didn't want anything to do with me, so Dad got to name he. He named me Porter. To this day I do not know why, I just assume the Port in my name was just because he liked ports, but didn't want that to be my full name. Port Collins doesn't have the same ring as Porter does.

When I was three, and Mom had warmed up to me, Mom finally got her wish. A baby girl Mom named Rosie. Since Dad had been given the right to name me, they agreed Mom could name Rosie. Rosie didn't have red hair or amber eyes, but Mom just adored the name. I was overjoyed to have a sibling to play with. Once Rosie was old enough to play with me, we became inseparable. She was my best friend.

All was well until Rosie was twelve. It was her first reaping ever, and I was nervous for her. My first one was absolutely nerve fraying. Rosie's dress was white with tiny pink roses embedded into the white fabric of the dress. Her hair was done up real pretty. She looked beautiful. When her name was called, Mom instantly burst out crying. I was too shocked to do anything. If I had been a older sister instead of an older brother, or Rosie had been a younger brother, I would have volunteered to go. Only, as a different gender, I couldn't. And I was forced to watch my best friend, and sister, die before my very eyes, yet I was helpless to save her.

After that, the anger began, the tantrums, the crying, the heavy depression began. I blamed myself for Rosie's death. I blamed myself for not being the same sex as her, so I could have volunteered and she could still be alive and well, still happy and with the family that loved her so. The guardian feeling also began. I was changed. I wanted to go out and save and protect anything I could. Nobody deserved to watch a family member die in the Hunger Games. If it was up to me, I will protect them.

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I ran out of ideas for him after I couldn't get the right face. Excuse lameness here.