hala joelle summers || capitol [fin!]

One would be hard pressed to find a woman as radiating as Hala. Her eyes, wide and scintillating, are the colour of a chestnut, and some like to say they are equally as hard and cold. Thick brown eyebrows that arch beautifully add just the perfect amount of emotion to her expressions. Soft, light pink lips bring sadness to her gaze; even the most genuine of smiles-which don't come around very often-still contain the sadness that always surrounds her. Curly, dark hair falls down loosely and messily down to her shoulders, which is more often than not left untouched or uncombed, providing Hala with a somewhat wild look.

As far as Capitolites go, Hala is a unique sight to see. She is tall, standing at a height of five feet and eight inches; she is proud of how her appearance sets her apart from others in her society. Her skin is beautifully unaltered, and it still glows healthily with her natural skin tone. Her body curves in such a way that is not necessarily most cared for in the Capitol, but Hala has never been one to care about what everyone else wants her to look like.

Her body, free from any blemishes or changes, is usually covered by light, flowing clothing. She prefer to wear things that are comfortable rather than to squeeze herself into things three sizes too small, which is unfortunately commonly seen on the Capitol streets. She enjoys nature, and thus can be found dressed in clothing with simple flowery patterns; the occasional blooming bud can be found tucked in her curly locks during the spring and summer months, petals slowly wilting away.

Hala is never seen without her signature necklace. An old, faded thing-which is adorned with only a small wooden replica of an arrowhead-it never leaves contact with her skin. It has been hers for as far back as the strands of her memory can stretch, and she knows that she has had it for even longer than that. It is the only possession she knows she has, that can she claim as her own property.

A bright blue star, glows strongly against the pallid peach of Hala's shoulder blade. It represents freedom, strength, and her unbreakable love for the boy that she will never see again. She chose a star, because they burn for longer than anybody will ever be able to see; they burn so faintly in the sky, almost going unnoticed by uncaring Capitolites, yet they are always there, always watching, always taking care, just like her boy.

On the contrary from her twin brother, Hala views the world with a cynical mindset. She believes that no good can come from the world unless it emerges from the natural part of life, from the trees or the air or the ground. When given a scenario, she must always choose the more negative option, because she feels the positive one is not as realistic. Happiness and beauty do not exist in the world; they only exist in dreams and in one's own imagination.

Leader of the pack, Hala is head of all groups. She is a natural-born leader, having the self-confidence and motivation to take charge and navigate through any problem. She enjoys the challenge of managing and organizing things because they brings her calmness and tranquility, and they allow her to focus her thoughts and goals on other things. She hates free time; it gives her thoughts the opportunity to wander to deep realms she would rather not explore.

As unfortunately as she sees the world, devotion is a driving force in Hala's life. Her dedication to the things she does and the ways she does them are simply the only thing keeping her from teetering over the edge; with no distractions, she would go insane from a lack of action and things to do. Her adherence to tasks can be quite a useful resource come project time, as well as getting herself out of a sticky situation.

Silence is golden, especially in Hala's wold. Preferring to keep to herself and her thoughts, the only guiding influence in her life is herself. One can only trust themselves in life; no other person's words, actions or thoughts can be trusted or proven one-hundred percent but one's own. Her thoughts are brilliant, full of figures and ideas and the like, but the only place where they can be found are in the deepest confines of Hala's mind. Her inability to trusts brings great problems and stress; all of her emotions and feelings are constantly under pressure, but the flask that is her stubbornness refuses to crack, declines the temptation to break into pieces and spill out everything.

The wild has always been a magnificent part of Hala's life. With no father to raise her, and a brother who was a complete polar opposite with his joviality and bright auras, she resorted to watching the forest from the impediments of the Capitol boundaries. The flowers, the trees, and the nomadic animals captivated her, and she often spent as much time as she could just staring into every possible inch of the woods as she possibly could. They brought to her a calm serenity, and she loved how in those moments, all of the problems and exhaustions of every day life simply dissipated.

While bathed in the white glow of our natural satellite, Hala feels complete; she knows of no place to call home except for under the gaze of the moon. Sunlight brings warmth and life to the world and the ground, but the brilliance of the moonlight molds the world that we all know like the backs of our hands into something brand new and completely unknown. In the darkness with only the moon as her eyes, Hala is at her most serene.

Growing up in the Capitol promises several things; it provides you a constant supply of food, a roof over your pretty little head to keep you warm and cozy, and most importantly, your exemption from the Games. As much as Hala had to be grateful for growing up, she was nothing but bitter. Bitter for the lack of her father’s role in her life, bitter at her brother Ghyrian-who was always her mother’s favourite-and bitter at her mom for being so distant. It seemed to her that everyone she could possibly need in her life had either gone away, or went against her.

Life as a Capitol-bred child could not have gone smoother. Surrounded by toys and showered with love, Ghyrian and Hala were raised in perfection. Everything that could have possibly been needed was provided, and all the unexpected was taken care of, until about the age of three. Distant memories can only provide Hala with the most blurry vision of her father; and then suddenly, they just stop, almost as if a blockade had been put up between her and the past.

Her mother had told Hala that her father was always a wandering, nomadic man at heart, never quite content with staying in one place too long. Hala can never clearly remember the day, but she does know that one day the house had awoken early to the sound of the door shutting almost silently closed, and the shuffle of feet down the pathway. Sprinting with her brother and mom to the window overlooking the street, they watched solemnly as he briskly stepped down the street, not once taking the time to take a final glimpse at his home.

Memories after that seemed to blend together. The next few years mixed together into one big blur, and Hala could barely differentiate among them. The only thing that she was sure of was the necklace that kissed her skin, the one that her father had given her shortly before he left. It was a gift, and a special one at that; it was the only gift Hala had received where Ghyrian had not gotten something, too. It as unique, special, and one-of-a-kind. Ghyrian was always the light of the household, and Hala had learned to accept and respect that. Ghyrian could give to their mother-who was becoming increasingly more and more distant with each passing moment- things that she never could, happiness, smiles, and laughter being just a few of them. Ghyrian had become the favourite, but that gave Hala opportunities to slip into her beloved shadows.

At around the age of twelve, Hala and Ghyrian had both found a boy named Ari in their lives. Rambunctious, smart, and clever, Ari was the perfect match to Hala’s calm and quiet demeanor. They belonged together like puzzle pieces, and Hala could not have found a better best friend. After all the people that had let her down and pushed her deeper, she had finally found the one that could hold her up.

Ari, who was not a lover but the person whom she loved the most, was like a second brother. He was nothing but a threat to Ghyrian, who had always secretly yearned for the attention of Hala. She was one of the few that had been able to stay distant from Ghyrian; to most others, he radiated happiness, positivity, and all things wanted in a friend. It hurt even more that the only person who denied him was his own kin, the very same flesh and blood as his own. To finally rid himself of Ari's burden, he devised a ruse to deem him a traitor, and a threat to Capitol society. He accused Ari of trying to defy the Capitol by building up a group of rebels to end the Games; with his large potluck of friends, Ghy had no troubles getting support for his plan, and even had some of them act as if they knew of Ari's wrongdoings, as well. The Capitol whisked him away right in front of Hala's eyes one day in school, and Hala could do nothing but sit in utter shock, eyes swimming with tears. She had not cried like that before; not even the departure of her father could induce such feelings. With one last glance and a face full of emotion, Ari was as quickly gone from her life as he had entered it.

Hala streamed out of the classroom, not bothering to pick up her things or even exchange a glance or word with Ghyrian, who was sitting across the room with a smug, almost content look on his face. She ran from the glistening school grounds, from the perimeter of the block, right to the small little meadow along the fence that she considered her home, besides next to Ari. She stared out into the early afternoon, watching the breeze blow through trees; its delicate fingers grazed her face, its breath blowing into her eyes and making them bleed salty tears. She cried, not sure how else to face the pain of the blow. She sat there, staring and crying, until the sun gave out and the moon took its place, bathing her in its familar warmth and comfort. She stood up finally, staring into the moon, and ran back to Ari's home.

Ari's parents were never home; constantly at parties or working, the house was merely a place where they sometimes slept, or could have shelter if they needed it. Ari was the only one who called this place home; Hala had been here so many times, she could navigate the extravagent house blindfolded. Familiar smells and scenes flooded Hala's senses, bringing on a whole new wave of tears. She stood in the doorway of every room, breathing in Ari's beautiful, flowery scent that Hala could pick out anywhere, and then proceeded to rummage through his things. Anything she could find to remember him, she took; pictures, pieces of clothing, his favourite things, she put them all into a box she discovered in his closet. She could not bear to let his parents throw these things out once they heard of their son's fate, or have the Capitol scavenge through the house looking for anything of value. His things were just as much her belongings, and vice versa. It had always been that way, and it would continue to be that way.

She struggled with the box to the door, the brightness of the moon playing with her a game of tag as she caught glimpses of it throughout the house. She opened the door, box in tote and Ari's dog on her heels, whom she had found hiding in a corner in his bedroom. She could not leave it there; Ari's parents would most surely forget to feed it, or even give it away. The only living thing to remind her of Ari, she was going to keep it whether or not her mother approved.

Months flew by, and Hala no longer saw the beauty in life. The world was dark, dark, dark; sadness floated around her like moths to a flame, never to be dispersed. Ari never left her mind, and everything she did was for him. A tattoo found itself on her shoulder, a bright blue star that matched the colour of his beautiful eyes. The pain of the needle could not even compare to the knife that hacked at her empty heart. Her eyes no longer radiated quiet and calm, but sadness and despair. Nobody could bear to look her in the eyes anymore.

To find a way out of it all, Hala turned to science. She read, and read, and read some more. Did extremely well in school, immersing herself in only her studies. By senior year, she was able to be accepted into a Capitol program for young, promising scientists and engineers, as well as her brother Ghyrian. Ever since Ari had been taken away, Ghyrian and Hala had grown even more distant. They rarely spoke, and the only words exchanged were shallow and cold. But even so, she still could not completely deny Ghy; he was her brother, her twin at that, and he still meant something to her. As litte as they spoke, just the sight of him was the necessary glue that kept Hala together.

Now, Hala is blessed with everything she could ever possibly need. A huge, beautiful house, a wonderful, secure job, and the chance to experience things most others can not. But what is the point of all these things, when you cannot share their beauty? Without Ari, is it really worth it at all?

odair