Rita Deyes, District Four [FINISHED]

I am short, standing at 5'2. Generally, people loom over me, particularly men. I can tell you that anyone who tells you being small is annoying is a liar. I mean, yes, of course, there are definitely bad things about being small, but the good things outweigh them by far. For example, people immediately assume you're weak and fragile, when really you would kick their ass in a fight. I grew up with two older brothers - I learned how to defend myself.

That being said, it does often mean people don't take you seriously. All my friends are treated as adults, as any respectable sixteen year old should be, but with me, it's the same four words over and over again. "You're just a kid." No, no I am not. I may be short, but I am responsible enough to look after myself.

I have a petite build in general, as I have a slim waist as well, even though I have had more food growing up than most district children. Still, I can fit my fingers around my wrist, and you can see my spine when I bend over. I suspect this is mostly to do with the exercise, or maybe I just have a fast metabolism. I never seem to gain much muscle either, which probably helps. I am quite strong, but I am too weak to fight most, which means I generally have to use my wits to beat others in fights.

My hair is a dark, chocolate brown, as my father likes to call it. It is naturally straight and is usually tied in some sort of braid or ponytail, out of the way of my oval face. I have seaweed green eyes, very fitting for District Four, if I do say so myself. I have rosy cheeks, which form dimples when I smile. My face generally has no freckles, though my arms are covered in them. Most of my spots aren't found on my face, either, though there is one every now and again. Most are on my back, which I have always found weird. My complexion is pale, and I never seem to tan, just shrivel up like a wrinkled old woman who has just been soaking in the bath for two hours. Okay, that was possibly an overstatement, but point is - I burn easily.

I've had a simple life. Born on July 2 to Deirdre and Jonathan Deyes, I was the first born female child into the Deyes' family, and the last. I had two older brothers, Scott and Winston, which meant that I learnt to defend myself at an early age. My mother felt it 'unladylike' for a woman to fight, so I was never trained to be a Career tribute by my father like my brothers, but I still practiced with them and usually ended up being a target. In the end, I might as well have been training with them, because I know the majority of stuff my brothers know even though I am small, as well as being better at defending myself.

We were a wealthy family, as most of the district are. A well known name across the street, we were like that family that everyone knows and talks to, but no one really hangs out with. Like that nice girl at the back of the classroom who you sit with at lunch but don't really talk to.

I was sort of like that, too, and still sort of am. Everyone at school has already made their 'cliques', for want of a better word, and trying to fit in is pointless. I'm late to the party, as they say. It's not like I haven't tried to start conversations with people - I do on a regular basis. Every time I try to make friends, their either extremely stuck up, we have nothing in common or the conversation is awkward and boring.

The reason I don't have many 'full-time friends' as I call them is because when everyone was making their friends at the start of school, I was pushing them away. I had been bullied up to the age of twelve for being 'different'. "That girl is so weird, she's not even a career." "Why is she reading outside of school? Loser." She's such a goody-two-shoes."

We eventually moved, as Four is a big enough district, to closer to the coast. I got a friend almost immediately - Hazel Hack, the neighbor's daughter. She was bubbly, loud, cheerful, arrogant, and most of all brave. She would never turn down an adventure, and is the reason that I love adventure as much as I do, now. We were friends for two years, until I was fourteen, when she took her last adventure. Exploring along the coast isn't safe after dark, apparently.

"I'm heading out to the coast tonight, wanna' come?" Hazel asked me, excitement obvious. I furrowed my eyebrows. "What? Are you crazy?" I exclaimed, rolling my eyes. She sighed and crossed her arms. "Pleeaase?" she pleaded, but I shook my head no. There was no way I was going to get in trouble for something so stupid. They found her drowned corpse washed up on the shore a few days later.

For a while, I blamed myself for that. If I had gone with her, would I have saved her? I didn't think anyone understood me, or would ever again. Of course my family were considerate, but really, she was just a silly little friend. People die all the time in the Hunger Games, my brothers would probably die there. So why couldn't I get over this girl?

I did, eventually, a year later, after contemplating suicide several times. It was a seemingly random event, just fishing by the shore as I usually do, when I started thinking about Hazel. I thought about the adventures we used to go on, and how I didn't follow her that night. And I forgave myself. As a famous author once wrote, the only way out of the labyrinth of suffering is to forgive.

So that brings me to where I am now, the bookworm at the back of the class who is half the size of her giant brothers. I tend to get along with those both younger and older than me better than my own age group, but that's alright, there all dickheads anyway. Oh, and don't tell them I said that.

The song lyrics are from Young Volcanoes by Fall Out Boy.
Passcode: oDair