Trenton Levitz - D10 [FINISHED!]

name » trenton levitz
age » seventeen
gender » male
district » ten

a p p e a r a n c e » here's to all the cowboys

There is no combination of words I could put on the back of a postcard,
no song that I could sing, but I can try for your heart.
Our dreams, and they are made out of real things,
like a shoebox of photographs with sepia-toned loving.

Well for starters, I've always been 'bout average height - a little taller than some, a little shorter than the others. When I was little I was always short, but I grew quite fast like most 'round here in Ten. Same goes for my size, food's a little short some days, but we manage - I guess I've always been quite lean. All m' brothers are like that, too. We've all got distinctive freckles from our Momma - the freckles pop up 'round summer time and stay there for the rest of the year, like a little collection. I don' mind them, really, there's not that many, just on m' cheeks and nose. The best thing 'bout being the oldest is that I get new clothes when I grow outta m' old ones - but it's usually jeans and checkered shirts, which has become a lil' trademark of mine. My arms are a little brown from all the time in the sun I've spent with my sleeves rolled up to my elbows, but as for the rest of me I'm a little pale.

I don' usually bother with m' hair, although it grows back quite quickly after it's been cut by the neighbours. When it's really hot I'll wear a hat with a full brim that Ria says makes me look even more like a cowboy than I already do - but it's just ta keep the sun off m' face. I sometimes chew straw, too, which I guess don't help very much with denying her statement. It's been a habit a mine since I was a kid, there's just so much of it everywhere. I used'ta do it when my Momma told me I had'ta stop bitin' ma nails, and it just stuck. Ma feet always have my Dad's ol' brown boots on them when I'm out workin', when I'm in town, when I'm at home, erre'where. I've had them for a few years but my feet seemed to have stopped growin' with the rest of my body when I was 15, so they've lasted me a good couple o'years.

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Folks 'round here tell me I’m a real gentlemen, but I guess it's 'coz I was fed manners into me with my baby food. I don't see the harm in bein' polite, it's not hard, and people'll like you more if you’re easy to get along with. I try to be courteous with everyone I meet, regardless of who they are. A tip of my hat or a nod and a smile at a passin' stranger is always good to cheer someone up. Ya never know when it’ll make a person feel a bit better if they’re havin' a miserable day. I know it’s a nice feelin' to be greeted warmly, so I like to share that with anyone I can. Most folks I’ve usually met once or twice, so I always say hello if I see them in town. It’s a big place, District 10, but everyone seems t’know everyone.

I'm normally not bad-tempered or nothin', but there's a few things 'bout people that I can't stand. First off, when people bully m' little brothers. That ain't cool. What makes you think you got any right to push someone 'round just coz you're bigger than them? I mean, I'm not the toughest-looking guy out there, but even if I was, I wouldn't go scarin' an’ threatenin’ kids. It just ain't right. And when people think they're so damn better than you because they've got something that you don'. That's probably why I hate those damn Capitolites in their uptight ways, thinkin' they're so perfect and all. And boy, when someone mentions anythin’ ‘bout the Capitol do I have get irritated – but I hardly show it externally, apart from a few short, sharp replies and starin’ at the floor; which most people are used to, anyway. The Capitol’s high up on the list of things that tick me off, probably at the top. If I wasn't so shy I would give the kids who pick on my brothers a piece of my mind, but usually I just go an' pick 'em up an' carry 'em home before they get hurt. My brothers are a lot more proud than I am, an’ they ain't afraid to speak their minds.

That's another thing 'bout me, I'm shy. Real shy, accordin’ to Ria. Then again, I don’ really open up t’anyone but Ria, and that’s only coz I’ve known her forever and she knows erre’thin’ ‘bout me, anyway. Can’t keep nuthin’ from her. I’m friendly, sure, but I prefer to be by myself when I’m not with Ria. Growin’ up on the farm, I never really got to know anyone my age but Ria, so it’s harder for me t’interact with others. I’d much rather spen’ an afternoon by m’self sittin’ under one of the huge oak trees on my family’s land playin’ guitar than go into town. Playin’ the guitar’s fun, too, my Dad taught me when I was young. I was the only one who picked it up out of the 5 Levitz boys, and it’s stuck with me ‘till this very day. I guess y’could call it my passion. I like t’come up with my own little songs, but I’m not really the singer. That’s Ria’s job, she can sing mighty fine alongside my guitar. Pity y’can’t make money from playin’ the guitar ‘round here, though. If I could, I’d jump at the chance.

My brothers, although they annoy the hell outta me most times, really do matter to me. Family is important. Bein’ the oldest I had t’learn how to grow up real fast an’ help Dad look after the boys when Momma can’t. I try everythin’ I can to make Dad’s life a little easier. I work on the farm, go t’school most days so I can get a good job an’ earn some money for the family, help Dad out with chores and farm stuff. I barely have any time for m’self, what with makin’ sure I see Ria as often as possible, but that’s life, I guess. Ya gotta make sacrifices, sometimes – an’ sacrifice surely isn’t a foreign word in Panem. At least it ain’t in Ten, I’ll give ya that. Things could be worse, though, although Ten certainly ain’t no District One, we got our own lives to live an’ all manage to get through with a smile on our faces. We got roofs over our heads an’ enough beds for everyone, an’ usually enough food – even if it is a little small some nights - so I don’t see why I should complain. Someone always has it worse off than you do, and I try to tell myself that when I’m feelin’ down. It’s better to stay positive and look on the brighter side of things.

I was born an’ raised on my family’s plot of land in District Ten, beginning 18 years ago in the late afternoon of July 7th. I never really knew how or why my parents met, they just did, and when I was born they were already married an’ had been for 3 years. Since I was born, four other boys came after me, becoming the oldest of five brothers. For a while, all I knew was the farm an’ its surrounding land, the chickens that ran ‘bout the dusty gravel paths an’ long green grass that turned golden in the summertime, gumboots and grazed knees taking up my days. I seemed to be always showing my brothers the huge tractor tracks embedded in mud, a hut made of branches I’d constructed from fallen trees, anything an’ everything that made up my childhood. I’d count the number of cows in the fields as I grew older an' learned about numbers an' words an' cattle, my only worry being the fact that I still couldn’ tie my shoelaces properly or count to one hundred. I was completely oblivious to reapin’s or the Games. I didn’t really understan’ it at first, at all, an’ just pretended that it didn’t exist. My world was complete with races to the letterbox an’ climbin’ over fences, an’ I didn’t need no scary game to ruin my fun.

Then I met Ria, an’ I like to think that I changed for the better. She lived on the farm next door, though I’d never seen her about much ‘coz I was told never to cross past our fence. Me bein’ me, I obeyed my father t’ no end, thinkin’ that somethin’ dangerous lurked beyond the bits of old, faded fencepost and thin, wiry twine. What I really, discovered however, was somethin’ much scarier than’ monsters or wolves or anythin’ from my imagination. On the other side of the fence was a girl.

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It was the summer after Trent had turned seven years old, two other little boys now in his tow. After a game of rough and tumble and gulps of water down by the stream to cool their selves off, Trent had found himself wandering along by himself through the shaded bush that outlined the edges of the Levitz property. His brothers had gone inside, but Trent had wanted to explore some more – being the oldest with a lot more energy that the other two.

A sudden noise had made him jump, ducking behind a nearby tree. He stood, frozen, until he heard the noise again, a hand clamped over his mouth to stop his heavy breathing form being heard. The noise came again, clearer this time - yet Trent still couldn't quite make out what it was. Fear creeping through his body, he paused the tread of his steps on the dirt-covered ground below him and stood silently - watching, waiting.

"BOO!" a voice suddenly yelled, and Trent, so taken aback by the exclamation, jumped and toppled over to the ground with a thud. With wide eyes, he searched for the source of his frightener - only to hear laughter erupt from behind him. Whipping his body around in a flash, his boots gripped the ground as the seven year old spotted a girl hanging from a wooden fence that her gum-booted feet were perched on, laughing.

She was laughing at him. Laughing!

"You're funny" she chimed with a toothy grin once her giggles had died down. Scowling, Trent brushed the dirt off of his clothes and picked off a stray, crackling brown leaf that was caught in his hair and tossed it to the ground. No-one ever laughed at him before - at least not after scaring him. Who did she think she was, popping out of no-where? Where had she even come from was a mystery to Trent anyway - the little girl in pigtails and overalls with shiny red gumboots had simply appeared out of thin air.

"You're not" Trent replied with a harsh look - but something about the way the girl just shrugged and began to finish climbing over the fence and onto the corners Levitz land caught Trent's attention. "No! You're not allow-" he began with a shocked tone, but before he could stop her red boot from reaching it's destination, she had landed with a light thud on the grassy floor, brushing her hands together contently and turned around to face Trent.

"Not allowed what?" the brunette asked with a toothy, mischievous grin, revealing the gaps in her mouth from where her baby teeth had fallen. Trent simply stood, astounded that this girl had had the nerve to not only scare him, possibly causing an injury, but hop onto someone else's property as if she'd been doing it her entire life.

"You're.... you're not s'posed t' just walk on over t'someone else's land..." Trent explained, stuttering a little from the shock that had not yet warn off. All his life, it had been drilled into him that he must not, under any circumstances, walk onto another's property when not with an adult without the owner's permission beforehand, or no sympathy would be with him if he ended up with a bullet through his chest. Here was a girl who had just defied this altogether, and Trent still didn't know who she was or where she had come from.

[/color]"Well I don't see no-one comin' ta get me. Unless [/i]you're gonna stop me"[/color] she almost laughed, which sent a mix of anger and puzzlement through Trent. Crossing his arms subconsciously as he became defensive, he let the girl grin, deciding defeat. He was never really good at standing up for himself, anyway, and didn't want to go to the trouble of arguing with her. It seemed to him that no matter what he said, she'd end up snapping back with an even smarter response.

"Whatever" the young boy mumbled. "Wheere'ya from, anyway? Never seen you 'round here b'fore" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him. The girl spun around on her heel, arms whirring in a blur at her sides as the leaves swept up in the sudden jolt of wind, stopping with a small bow of a curtsy in front of Trent and began to speak. "My name is Maria Arianne Fletcher and I am seven years old" she began to recite in an almost sing-song way through the gaps in her teeth. "I live over there" she explained, pointing to the house in the distance between the fence she had just climbed over and the next hill before turning back to Trent, who had been following her finger to spot her house. "But my Mommy and Daddy call me Ria" she finished with a nod and a sparkle in her eye that screamed of misbehaviour.

Trent soaked in her words and nodded, sticking out his hand as his father had instructed him to do when first meeting someone. "I'm Trenton" the freckled face replied with a smile. "But y' can call me Trent, if ya like." Ria smiled again and politely shook his hand. Trent had never known someone his own age live so close to his own home - in fact, he had never known the little house over the fence existed until now, but decided not to mention that just yet.

"Do ya like orange juice?" he asked naively in his child-like way, trying to make conversation. Ria nodded excitedly, her two plaited pigtails bounding along with her head. "'Cmon then, Momma'll make ya an extra cup, I'm sure of it" he invited with a motion of his hand, and began to walk back through the trees toward his house, Ria skipping along at his side as they began to chatter, unaware of the long-standing friendship they had just helped create.[/i]

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I have always been there for Ria, an' she has always been there for me. She took me by surprise, to say the least, but without her my life'd be simple an' borin'. She brings a light to conversation, or even jus' bein' around her - that is hard t' explain. I feel like I can do anythin' when I'm around her. She understands, she listens, and I think I love her I care for her a hell'ova lot. It's funny - we're quite the opposite of each other, in a way, but get along 'real well, an' always have. We can admit our problems, our worries - coz she's the only person in the entire worl' that I can't lie to. She always knows when I'm upset. I'd do anythin' for her. Die for her, even. I know it sounds silly, but she's my only frien' I've ever had an' the only one who'll ever get me the way she does. No-one really cuts it except her.

I'll never let her down. Ever. Even if it means having to watch her love someone else, coz I'm too much of a coward to tell her how I feel.

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“Trent?” Maria whispered through the wind, fidgeting with the long grass in her hands.

“Mm?” he responded, opening his eyes to zone out of his dreamy state, head popping up in awareness of her voice. He’d always listen to her, of course. Every single word.

“Do ya...” she began, hesitating as quickly as she began – pausing in search of the right words to explain how she felt. Explain what she wanted to know.

“D’ya think it’s alright, Trent? Ta be scared, that is” the twelve year old confessed, averting her gaze toward the ground in a flush of embarrassment. Her cheeks turned a light shade of rose, clearly uncomfortable, refusing to look back at Trent.

“Ta be scared of what?” the boy replied, confused as to what the girl meant. His eyes laid on her, confused, but understanding. She didn't need to be embarrassed around him. They were best friends, after all. She could ask him anything, tell him anything. He’d keep it a secret, no matter how silly it sounded.

“The reapin’”

It came out as a mere whisper, floating away with the light breeze and tangling itself up in the leaves of the tree they sat under. No longer were the two just giddy children racing around fields and climbing over fences, oblivious to the world outside of their homes. They were not quite adults, but no longer children – thrust into a scary world far too quickly, and far too young. They were twelve years old, and with that age came responsibility, worry, adamant fear, and their names among thousands of little slips in that dreaded, dreaded bowl of paper.

They couldn’t pretend that they were safe any longer. Trenton couldn’t pretend that he could keep her safe any longer. Not from the Games, anyway. Anything, everything – but the Games.

The silence between the two grew longer, thoughts swept up with the gusts of air in the hot, sticky summer sun - before Trenton spoke again. “’Course it’s alright, Ria. S’more than alright. Perfectly normal, too, ta be scared.” With each word he added, a new, subtle air of confidence rose between the pair of children. If he could not protect her from the Games, he could at least protect her from herself.

“Tell ya a secret” he offered, eyes fixed on Marias as he watched her look up from her fixture on the ground. “I’m scared too.”

“You?! Scared?!” Maria shrieked; a ghost of a laugh in her eyes. “N’aw, you be lyin, Trent!”

“I aint” he answered truthfully to her exclamations. “I’m scared too. Everyone is. You’ve seen what they’re like on TV, Ria. You see it every year. And, say that they do come back – they’re changed, Ria. I don’t want to die, believe you me, but I sure as hell don’t want to come back different. I don’t want you to come back different. Coz we might not be able to be friends no more.”

“That ain’t true, Trent!” Maria exclaimed, her eyes suddenly hurt. Trenton immediately regretted his choice of words, wishing he could scoop them back into his mouth and swallow them back down. “We’ll always be friends, Trent. Even if you come back different, you’ll still be you. Somewhere. Deep down, Trent, somewhere you’ll still be you. They can’t take that away, Trent. That just ain’t fair. It ain’t right” she concluded with a huff, fists clenched and tense. The warm summer sun now beat down on the two, cool breezes contrasting as they swept up loose locks of brown hair from Ria’s plait tied up with a blue ribbon.

“Besides” she continued, her voice lower this time. “There’s a real small chance that yous’d get picked, or me. Bet I’d be a real scaredy cat if I did.” Now Maria’s voice was hardly a voice at all, hushed syllables that only Trent could hear. In the distance, grazing cattle called out to no-one in particular as they wandered about in herds, oblivious like children. But these two hard hardly any time left to be children.

Almost tasting her worry on his tongue, Trent leaned forward and placed his mall hand on her own. Catching her gaze, Trent spoke with all seriousness in his voice. “I promise, Ria”he began. “You’ll be ok. You won’t get picked, I swear – but if ya ever did, I’d go with ya ta make sure that they didn’t touch ya. You’d come home again. They wouldn’t hurt ya. I wouldn’t let ‘em.”

A smile then blossomed on Maria’s face, shoulders sinking with an inward sigh as if a weight had suddenly been lifted off her shoulders. Trenton’s words hung in the air, understanding them perfectly – and she said nothing more. Standing up and brushing the stray blades of grass from her dress, she hitched her fingers through Trenton’s and pulled him upwards, swinging their linked arms through the air as they began their decent down the hill again, a pleasant, welcomed silence amongst them. Maria answered his statement with a mere squeeze of their hands, not a single word needed to compliment the gesture. He knew, then, that no matter what would happen - he’d keep his promise. She’d come home to him, after the reapings or come back from the Games instead of him.

And she had for 6 years since, right up to this very day.

Ria's the only one that knows 'bout my Momma, and her issue. Not even ma little brother's know 'bout it - but that's just t'keep 'em safe. I don' wanna scare 'em or nuthin'. I don't really know what happened t'her. One day she woke up an' something wasn't right. Nothin' had seemed to trigger her behaviour - it wasn't even reapin' time or nuthin' - she just woke up an' didn't get outta bed for 3 days straight. I was only 13 so I didn' really understand what was goin' on - she didn't talk, or eat, or nuthin'. Just sat an' stared. Dad sent me and my brothers off t'school in a hurried rush - and when I came home, she was jus' the same. Gradually, she managed t' eat, and communicate in nods to m'Dad, but that was it. Now, 4 years later, she's just the same. Hasn't been outta the house in years. Sometimes she'll smile at me an' my brothers as she wanders about the house, or want a hug - but the others, the worse days, she just sits in her chair an' doesn't do a thing. It scares me, I'm not gonna lie an' say it doesn't - but if the other boys knew... I shudder t'think how they'd react. They think of it as normal - they're only young, after all. Me an' m'Dad don't dare tell 'em something's wrong with her. It just ain't right. There's enough trouble goin' on in Panem without them worryin' 'bout their Momma too. I just wanna keep them an' Ria safe. That's all that matters.

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comments/other:
lyrics; better together - jack johnson
fc; jamie bell

describing [FF8F1F] thinking [FFEFA6] talking [C7BD91]


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