- Joelle Grayce District 6 - [FIN]

I don't care about my looks. They only serve me one purpose and that's to bat my big, round, blue eyes whenever I get in trouble. My mother tells me it's a gift that I should be thankful for. Yeah, creepy old men and fat Peacekeepers raping me with their eyes is definitely something to be thankful for. What's so attractive about an angular face and thick, unruly, dirt brown hair? I'm pale, don't most guys like tan girls? I guess I just attract the weirdos then.

I'm not that different from other girls around here. Average height for my age, and light as a feather. There's nothing great about me and definitely nothing that should catch the eye of anyone. So why me? Surely it can't be what I wear that draws their attention? Every article of clothing I have has at least one patch or an unfinished hem, all except my reaping dress that my mother somehow manages to keep in mint condition. Whatever witch craft she pulls to make that possible I'll never know.

I like to think that I'm a smart person. That I think before I act and all that jazz. But I know that most of the time, that's not true. I get defensive easily and justify any action that I take by telling my self that I'm not going to stand for any crap. It's stupid, I know, but it's my default.

Another thing that I do is to make everything seem...less depressing. But lately it's just been through bittersweet irony and a sarcastic sense of humor. Did that make sense? Well, other than those things, I'm normally distant from other people. I hate crowds and I also hate those awkward scenes when your left alone with someone you don't know. The second one doesn't happen a lot, but when Reaping Day comes I normally try to stay along the edges of the crowd.

I spend most of my time studying medical procedures and making medicine for my mothers patients. It's good practice, helps me keep my mind off things like the Games and other personal family crap. It's something that I hang on to that promises a slightly better future and to me, that's everything. I don't care what people think of me, as long as I can save myself. That's all that matters.

I was born and raised in District six to my mother, a nurse at the nearby hospital, and my father. I have no idea what he did for a living and mother won't tell me. I think he might have been a physicist based on all the Atom's books I found in mother's bedroom. I'm no genius, but I know nursing has nothing to do with what makes up the air we breathe.

Dad walked out on us when I was five. No one knows why or where he went, all we know is that one morning we woke up and he was gone. He took with him clothes, spare pillow and blanket, food that was suppose to last all three of us for two months, and that months pay. I think that's what pushed mom over the edge.

Ever since that day, mom got really clingy and controlling. She wanted to be with me every second of every day and would freak out over the slightest cut or bruise. I don't handle codling well, never have and never will. Some people might say I'm unlovable, I just say I'm safe.

Face claim: Dana Hanson