Re: Rhymer Spotswood

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Rhymer Spotswood, 16, District 10, Female

Appearance
~From The Top Of My Head, To The Tip Of My Toes.~ [/size]

I have hair. Just like everybody else, who isn't bald of course but anyway. My hair is silky and shiny. I use an expensive shampoo that almost no one else in the District can afford. It is a mass of distinguished, bouncy curls. Each one is distinguished and defined. It is a blonde/brown color, sometimes referred to as a dirty blonde, but that term doesn't fit my personality. I usually keep in a very straight middle part. It keeps my hair from getting in my way. My hair shapes my face quite nicely, bringing out my sharp cheekbones and rounded face structure.

My eyes are a baby blue mixed with a gray color. They are quite majestic looking and very playful. I get my eye color from my grandfather, who once lived in the Seam of D10. My eyes are the only possession of mine that connects me to the poor. This disgusts me. Though I put up with them, and often give them food or water, this is for publicity reasons only.

My mouth is almost always in a fake smile, I mean, it should be real. I have everything I'd ever want. I have a solid roof over my head and meals guaranteed on the table each night. I have my own room. My own horse, which I don't ride. I look rich, but my soul is empty, it's missing something important, and sometimes, that exemplifies on my face, which is not by any means allowed when you're rich.

I have a skinny figure, though not because I don't eat, because my step mother forces me to stay this way. She always says not to rub it in others faces how blessed we are. I stay skinny and put on a smile, because that's what I'm supposed to do. I wear pretty clothes, or in a since. I usually just wear jeans and a halter top around the house, but my jeans aren't torn, and this makes them fancy in District 10. I usually wear flip flops or gum boots around the house. Ha. I dress like I actually work. Step Mom's idea, believe it or not.

My feet are larger than most. I wear a size 11 and I'm only 16. Some say I have a very pretty appearance and I like to think so, but after seeing the girls at school who are dirt poor and prettier than me really hurts me. I try, and they don't yet their results turn out much better than mine. I don't know. I am thankful for what I have though. I am just..Rhymer Spotswood, in her own skin.[/size]

Personality
~Me, no other way to say it.~[/size]

I am not a very headstrong person when it comes to my Step Mom. I usually go along with whatever she wants me to do. I do not love her one bit. She became my step mom when I was ten, and the minute she forced me to call her mother I didn't like her. I am afraid of her. Sometimes I feel my father loves her more than me, and if I don't listen to her than she'll ship me off. As she has threatened to before.

When it comes to other people I am very headstrong and stubborn. Once I set my mind on something, or if someone teases me I'll prove them wrong. Once, my friend Lorraine said that I couldn't roll in the mud because I was too girly. So, I rolled in the mud. And I loved it. But then 'mother' came out and yelled at Lorraine and me. I never spoke to Lorraine after that. I don't like it when people boss me around, but when it's 'mother' I'll only put up a little fight.

I am not very patient, as I've never really had to wait for anything. Everything I want is present, so I don't wait, I've become accustomed to it. I have a very short temper because of my impatience. I tend to get angry very quickly when things don't go my way, and again, I'm just accustomed to them being my way. Though I don't stoop low enough to throw a tantrum or stomp up the stairs or anything like that.

Living in District 10, you would expect me to be an animal lover, but you see, I hate animals. They've always hated me too. I can't even go in the backyard without getting a death stare from my own horse Star. It's hard to hide it living on the biggest farm in all of District 10. My real mother loved horses, but they hate me. I only get near them for photos or necessary things like that. We have ranch-hands to do the rest.

I am all around my own person, but a trapped person, trapped inside a world of luxuries and endorsements. Though I don't want to be poor, I just want a purer life. I long for the day when someone shows me how to live a purer and more enthusiastic life. It is one of my wildest, and most daring, dreams. [/size]


History
~The Hardest Part~ [/size]

Where to start? Many years ago, my great grandfather bought the land our family thrives and lives on. My great grandpa, my grandpa and grandma, along with my family and step grandparents live on the land. We are a number of different businesses. We have Dairy Cows, we breed and birth horses, we have goats (for cheese and goat milk), we grow apples, peaches, corn, cabbage, potatoes, tomatoes, and many other crops, we raise pigs, sheep, alpacas, and pretty much any other farm animal you can think of. We provide most of our services to the Capitol, keep some for ourselves, and send the rest to markets in Town Square. For three generations, four counting me, we have thrived off this land, providing ourselves with more than enough of what we need.

I was born here on the farm and was raised here ever since. My mother died when I was seven years old. I loved her more than anyone else in the world. She was bucked off one of her favorite horses and landed on her head, and broke her neck in three places. She died instantly and I was standing there watching it all unfold. I was much younger then, and much more naive. Ever since though, I have not ridden a horse and try to stay clear of any animal really. At least I have a good reason to be afraid of animals.

When I was 10 I got a step mom. I wasn't happy about it, but me and my father never really had an established relationship, therefore, what I thought or said was of no concern to him. He proceeded with the marriage despite my begs and cries. My step mother's name is Irene, though I am not allowed to call her that. I must refer to her as 'mother'. Not 'mommy' not 'mom' but 'mother'. That is all I am to refer to her to. Though this is the case when I mention her and she's not around, it is not hard for me to remember that her name is Irene. She will never be my mother, despite her forceful tries. She wants me to be more lady-like. But my actual mother never enforced such a thing. I do get some freedoms from her ways, thanks to my grandma.

My grandparents mean a lot to me. I think of them as my actual mom and dad, because the way my father talks to me, you'd think I was a doll he found in the trash. I spend most of my time at their house, even though Irene forces me to stat with her often. I only leave the farm for trips to the markets or to go shopping. When my mother was around we always celebrated my birthday, being an only child, but Irene hates the idea. She thinks it's ridiculous to celebrate the coming of age when all you get is wrinkles.

When I was thirteen, my father and Irene had a baby. They named it Skylar after his baby blue eyes. Or so I am told. I am not allowed to see Skylar. He stays in his wing of the house and I stay in mine, honestly, I'm just glad Irene hasn't asked me to change the diaper. Irene and my father travel amongst Skylar and my wings of the house, along with their own. Where me and Skylar have restrictions.

My life only consists of sitting in the house or fields, walking to my grandparents house, or promotional activities. All of them dull, all of them boring. My face exemplifies happiness, yet my soul exemplifies emptiness. And it has, ever since Mom died.[/size]


And It Will, Until I Die. [/size][/center]