ADA // DONE - WANDERER | Hunger Games: The RPG

willow .
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ADA // DONE - WANDERER Apr 24, 2013 15:29:52 GMT -5

Post by willow . on Apr 24, 2013 15:29:52 GMT -5

Name: Ada
Age: 16
Gender: Female
District/Area: Wanderer
Appearance:

THEY SHOULD LOCK ME UP

patrycja gacka

Personality:

I USED TO BE A GOLDEN GIRL. SEE, THIS USED TO BE ME IN THE CAPITOL. THEN ONE DAY I LOST MY CROWN AND ALL THE PAINT DRIPPED OFF MY FACE. SO NOW IM PLAIN. SO NOW THEY CALL ME CRAZY, OR PRESUMABLY DEAD. I CLIMB ALL DAY AND GUESS WHAT, I ESSPECIALLY LOVE TO EAT BEETLES.

History:

CRAY BITCHES

Codeword: ODAIR
Comments/Other:

A crazy girl, this is going to be great.

www.colourlovers.com/palette/2817156/after_the_storm

Already Over by Red <3

Last Edit: May 7, 2013 16:10:54 GMT -5 by willow .

willow .
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436 POSTS
last seen Nov 28, 2013 13:16:53 GMT -5

off in the meadow

ADA // DONE - WANDERER Apr 24, 2013 15:40:49 GMT -5

Post by willow . on Apr 24, 2013 15:40:49 GMT -5

[bg=22222][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true]

ada

You never go
You're always here, suffocating me
Under my skin
I cannot run away

[/size]
bio
- - - - - - -

My family, such a group of wonderfully gifted people, they would tell me stories about life outside of the beautiful Capitol. None of the rhymes were good though, or at least to those who were forced to be the subjects of the prose, my mum and dad didn't understand this though. Mum always had her pink eyelashes, that's what I can remember most vividly about her, the long, fake hairs that would color her green pigmented eyes, ever so similar to mine. I recall her flapping them at me constantly, like a bird trying to take off into flight, her silly accent ricocheting across the room as she would disapprove every one of my civilized comments.

My dad has never been much different, even though he is a male and they tend not to go as far as the pompous ladies in the purebred culture. Even so, he always had purple hair, I'm not sure why he always kept his hair like that. When I was little, I thought that it was real for a while, pulling my fingers through the stiff curls and chortling with a small, child-like smile as I would hug him. "Daddy, your hair is the most special."

And as I grew older I never wanted to dye my hair or my eyebrows, and especially not my light, porcelain skin that stretched across me like a canvas, covering all those ugly things that resided in me. Of course, Mum and dad never knew this until many years later, when I began to talk to Mary more than I ever had. She was the only friend I had ever made during school, a small girl with short brown hair and wide eyes, she had never exposed herself to any impurities of the Capitol either, it was the way that she liked it.

Soon though, maybe around at ten years old, I was getting a little old for an 'imaginary friend' as I would sometimes hear my parents call her, Mary, the figure that always stood by my side. Mary was a determined girl, never afraid to speak up for what she believed in, the exact opposite of me. When I wanted to sit in corners and read a book, to just get away from the world, Mary was there to push me back on my feet and tell me to get out there and be myself, she always told me I was beautiful. The thing is, I never really believed her.

- - - - - - -

And it was this time where my parents began to think that there was something going on just a little bit in my ten year old mind, they would see me sit up in bed and talk to her. The thing is, I don't think they actually ever have seen Mary. She's invisible to them and she knows it, the beautiful little girl with twinkling eyes and curly hair that flows just past her shoulders. So with all of this, I was considered just the slightest bit crazy in my family. I especially remember the glances as I would walk by, anywhere I went. They hurt more than any words.

And after that came the weekly visits to Anne, a fairly nice lady with red lipstick and a slight lisp to her sugar-coated voice. She was there to 'help me', or so that's what they said; most of the time though it was her who did the talking while I took the time to stare into her dull, hazel eyes.

"So Ada, your parents tell me that you have a friend, can I meet her, dear?" The first day, she began to ask questions and the sweet tone to her voice didn't trick me for one second. I tried to participate with her, talk back, but my mouth didn't want to open. Mary was mine, I didn't want to share that with her. Never.

Right after she asked me this I remember shaking my head as she reached a hand out to me. "Please?"

"Mary doesn't want to talk right now, she's tired." I kept my gaze the entire time, wanting to show her without words that I wasn't messed up, that I was perfectly fine. And yet she still wanted to see my friend.

"Just a quick hello, Ada?" She would never see the good side to me, so I began to give her that crazy side, I let her have conversations with my dear friend and she would act all dainty and good about it -I always heard her talking with mum though, about my issues-. "She isn't well," and "Do you think that she feels neglected."

To hell with them all, my parents, Anne, and even maybe Mary. By the age of thirteen I wouldn't deal with it anymore, I promised myself that I would go and never turn around again, walk away from my stupid family and the luxuries of the Capitol and prove to them all that I was perfectly sane, that I didn't need the fancy medicine that they forced down my throat every single morning. I just wanted to prove that I was right.

- - - - - - -

So that was it I suppose, I got together my bags and put my hair up into a messy bun, complete with a small bow, and I walked calmly away. I left at exactly 7:25 in the morning, all for a reason, a small note hidden that they would probably never find. I was born on July twenty-fifth, a small baby in a Capitol hospital. Many years late I wander off, the time that marked my birth, ever so clever of little Ada. It was a delusional thought, that's what they'll say once they see that I've gone. "She was probably just following a voice in her head."

You see, they'll shrug it of and sit in a chair and wait for me, patiently reminding themselves that I'm crazy. I won't come back though, I'm going to climb a tree and stay there for a night before continuing on and never turning back to see metal walls again. Since then, the green shelter has been my haven, outfits stolen from the unsuspecting, or simply made from my hands, woven from leaves into a lavish dresses.

Every day is a new test, a way to prove myself to the world once again that im capable, that I can fend for myself and provide. And Mary still stands beside me, her outline starting to blur and a proud smile coating her beautiful child-like face. She is happy, I'm happy. And now we can rest and wait for tomorrow, we can rest before fighting off anyone who dares to come too close. And we will continue to stay alive.

Until the day where I cannot hold on any longer, and I slip away. Mary will go before my eyes, I have it all planned out, and my fingers will slowly rot and fall into the dirt surrounding me. The skin will peel away from my face and my eyes will dull to the silvery light of the sun. And one day they'll come across my body, a body that once held so many stories and a face of lavish beauty. They will carry me back home, once and forever, and only then can I prove that I was not crazy, as my parents see my body and realize what I was trying to say all along.

And I even hope they say goodbye to Mary, you see, she was my only friend. And as I end this I'll even leave you with a picture of her, my little sister, full of sunshine and daisies. The one that my parents were never able to see.

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Last Edit: May 7, 2013 16:10:37 GMT -5 by willow .

willow . Tribute [M:1300] 436 POSTS last seen Nov 28, 2013 13:16:53 GMT -5 off in the meadow	ADA // DONE - WANDERER May 7, 2013 16:11:22 GMT -5 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by willow . on May 7, 2013 16:11:22 GMT -5 ima too lazy to code, well, anyways, she's done and I hope that this is acceptable ;n;

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ADA // DONE - WANDERER May 7, 2013 19:38:07 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on May 7, 2013 19:38:07 GMT -5

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