Blaise Thompson // District 11

Could I do it so that I can describe myself in one word? No? Darn. Okay, well, I’ll try my best to give you a lengthy introduction.

I’m Blaise Thompson. I guess I was named ‘Blaise’ because it sounds like ‘blaze’, and my hair seems to be on fire when the sunlight hits it. It falls over my eyes, the average length for a guy it seems these days. My eyes are a deep blue. My skin is olive. I could consider myself good looking. I mean, I get the occasional girl. But what good does that do me in life?

I’m not very tall. Five and a half feet. There are some 13-year-olds in my District that are taller than me. It doesn’t help when I get picked on, which happens a lot. My weight doesn’t help me in that situation, either. I mean, sure I’m better off than those District 12 kids, but not by much. I still struggle for food, too.

Well, personality is a lot harder than appearance, in my opinion. I’m generally very quiet, albeit I can get wild and loud when I’m in a good mood. I love to cause mayhem. I will risk anything just to have a bit of edge in my life. The District doesn’t provide much entertainment. The Capitol thinks that the Games give us enough entertainment to last us through a year. Wrong. So that’s why I’m a troublemaker.

I could say that I am a jerk sometimes. When I wake up, I automatically know how my mood is going to be that day. When I’m going to be in a bad or snappy mood, it’s not good. I recommend you stay away from me. I’ll understand.

I come from a large family. I have three other siblings. Alex, my twelve-year-old sister, is my sunshine. I can go to her with anything and vice versa. She knows everything about me. She became eligible for the Games this year. I don’t know what I would do if she got reaped. I would most definitely volunteer for her, as much as I would know I’d be dying. My twin brothers, Avery and Andy, are ten. They will soon be eligible for the Games, too. I haven’t allowed any of my siblings to take any tesserae. We can manage without it.

My father passed from a disease. He was sick in bed for two weeks, and we didn’t know what was wrong with him. We did all we could, fed him, gave him medicine, everything. But none of it worked. He passed in his sleep, painlessly. And that’s what we wanted for him. A painless death.

My mother is still alive, in a way. She still talks to us and takes care of our family. But she’s gone, if you know what I mean. Ever since my dad passed, she’s been ‘dead’, for lack of better words. No light in her dazzling green eyes, no bounce in her step. Since I’m the oldest, I’ve been sub-consciously assigned as head of the house. I barter with the people in my District for food. Most nights, Alex and I go hungry, as we give our food to the twins and our mom. We use what we can get, and we survive on that. I guess that’s all one can hope for, in this world.