Raven Highmore || District 08

^{My name is Raven Highmore. I’m just your ordinary girl, who lives in this hell of a world. Being only seventeen years of age, I don’t have the freedom yet that I so desire. The day I was born was a hectic one, on August the fifteenth, and my mother decided she didn’t love me from the moment I was born. I was a burden. When I was born, my father was sure he was going to kill me from the same moment my mother decided she didn’t care for me. A mother’s child, no matter how she feels towards her, is her child. She didn’t want me dead no matter how much I changed her life, so with some help, we were able to move to the other side district eight. Now I live in the world of needles and thread.}

appearance |

<sup>Compared to a lot of other woman, I’m just another bird in the sky. I can be compared to a raven in a way – I don’t stick out like some do, and I’m plain old me. My body doesn’t have the gorgeous curves that some of the women in the other districts possess, and I’m rather stick thin. Besides my waist, my only other curves are my breasts, which sit in medium-sized lumps on my chest. One of my better qualities is the swiftness of my hands. After years of sewing and stitching clothing, cloths and towels, I’ve always been good with handy work. I mean, someone has to have good hands around here – it is district eight. My raven black hair is blue-tinted and sits on the top of my head in long strands, leading to the bottom of my breasts in straight locks.

Chocolate brown highlights are also present in the summertime, mostly because of the sunlight. My bangs sit in light flaps over my forehead, often being pinned back on the warmer days of the year. Though I don’t think of myself as beautiful, or even attractive, but some of my male friends have told me before that I’m perfect just the way I am. But of course, they were just friends, so no romantic interests have actually made a move on me. My eyes are a bright grey color, that could match any shade of ice blue in oddity. Compared to my family members, my eyes could be considered a gift, seeing as their eyes are a deeper brown shade.

Though, I’ve never been the one to care about how I appear. I always wear a smile on my face and carry on, no matter if I’ve missed meals, or if I’ve been yelled at by my mother. If I’m determined to smile, my day will stay optimistic. When I go out, I usually wear some of the overalls I received when I was fourteen (I haven’t really grown much since then), and a t-shirt I’ve sewn for myself. Never to think twice about my appearance, I have been bullied by some of the girls at school that actually care about that sort of thing, but I really am one of those rare girls who will get down and dirty without thinking twice about how my nails will look afterwards.</sup>

personality |

<sup>I’ve never been the person who can sit still for hours, and read a book. I have the attention span of a dust mite, and I’m not ashamed of it. Sometimes, I’ll even invent games of my own to keep myself occupied.

Though, stitching with needles and thread can take up a lot of time, and it’s time well spent when it brings in the small income my family receives. I’m a rather outgoing, optimistic person who has a maturity to her that is unusual for a person with hyperactive personas, and I can speak with great grammatical skills without missing a beat. At school, I never hesitate to give a speech, because talking has always been one of my greatest skills. I’ve written hundreds of speeches over time, and my social skills are the one thing that makes my mother proud. For someone so outgoing – so eccentric, I’ve always known when it would be time to stay calm and relax.

Though as I have my strengths, I have my share of weaknesses. I’ve never been good with negative emotions. I don’t understand sarcasm, and judging someone on their character has never been something I excel in. Whenever I try to know the right thing to say in a situation involving someone being hurt, upset or even jealous, I end up stuttering away with my words.

Both of the traits contrast in the way, though they both go hand in hand – it’s actually ironic. A girl who’s so good at speeches, with her articulation and with beautiful social skills would have problems when trying to comfort someone by knowing what to say. I mean, some people find it odd, like my brother, who overanalyzes everything.</sup>

history |

<sup>Born in district eight, I had a mother and a father (and well, everything in between). My story isn’t as complex as it may seem, though it is as harsh.

When I was born, I was the bastard daughter of my parents. They weren’t married, and they didn’t plan to be. From the moment I came into my nineteen-year-old mother’s view, she had decided she didn’t like me whatsoever. Of course, she was protective of me because in a way, I was like an object. She was possessive of me. Things didn’t settle too well with my father, and I all but ended up dead. For the first few months of my life, I lived in the northern side of district eight with my mother and father on occasions, but then my mother began receiving threats from my father who said she would be beaten and I would be killed. We moved to the south side, where we could avoid my father.

My mother picked up the small amount of things she cared about and moved us down to the southern side of district eight, where she believed she could grow to care more about me, and that we could make a living. From the moment I could use my hand-to-eye coordination, I was learning to stitch a simple pattern.

Growing up in district eight, I learned one good thing that would come in handy if I was ever to be reaped. I was handy. I would help my mother in the shop, while I would go out into the fields and go camping when the days were nice and the sun was out, shining. She would always ask why I would do this, and I just answered with a simple “What else is there to do?” By the time I was old enough to be reaped, I was still a burden to my mother, but she had grown fond of the work I could do. I was lucky to never be reaped for the next few years, but of course, that might just come back and bit me in the butt.</sup>

codeword |

^odair

comments & others |