Riley Deepak // Wanderer

Well, here goes. I'm not good at describing myself..

I'm beautiful, I guess. At least, that's what people used to tell me, before I ran that is. Five foot seven, long, wavy locks and bright, forest green eyes. I'm thinner now, my skin softly tanned from living out doors. My long, blond hair now falls in tangles around my shoulders. My eyes are the only thing that haven't been affected by running around in the wilderness. I'm fit, but of course, no physical wonder. I'm a decent height, but compared to other girls in my home district, I wasn't tall at all. I'm built small naturally, and although I may not be too powerful physically, I can run like the wind and am almost as good at scaling trees as I am running. Before I left my district, I kept myself relatively presentable. But now my appearance is generally rather scruffy; I only clean up if I have to slip into another district.

Hm.

I have an oval shaped face with high cheek bones, and full lips. I suppose my most noticeable facial feature it my eyes. Bright, forest green, like I mentioned before. Ah yes. My scar. There's a reason you'll never find me with my hair pulled back. I have a scar down the left side of my face, perhaps three inches long or so, near my jaw bone. It remains mostly hidden, so long as I leave my hair down. Oh, what else.. I dress simply and comfortably in old, worn out clothing of mine. Usually trousers, a shirt, and light jacket, weather permitting. I carry a beaten up rucksack with me too, which holds my very limited survival tools. Some wire, a small box of matches, a thin, holey, sleeping bag, and a spare knife. That's it. But I manage.

As I mentioned earlier, people used to tell me I was beautiful. In looks perhaps, but my personality is another story. I like to think of myself as stubborn. Okay, okay, maybe I don't like to think of myself that way, but that's how it is. Once I'm set on something, I'm persistant and there's little chance of me changing my mind. I tend to come across as a bit stand-offish. Honestly, I'm not too fond of people. It has always taken me a while to trust people, and even more so now that I'm on the run. I'm extremely independent, and I don't take anybody's crap. I suppose you'd say I have a short fuse, which I do, though I do my best to keep my head. Patience has never been my strong hold, and to top it all off I tend to be a bit bold. It's not my nature to go down without a fight, no matter how impossible the situation seems, but sometimes I take it a bit too far. Refusing to flee even if it costs me my life. Though I've smartened up in the past few years, it's just how I roll.

Enough of my fatal flaws, I'm not all bad. I'm really quite intelligent, clever, and honestly, if I wasn't I'd probably be dead by now. I'll fight no matter what, but I'm quick enough with words, a pretty good lier. I can also be rather critical at times, and sarcastic. I guess those aren't really fantastic qualities, but no one's perfect, I suppose. I swear, I'm really not a bad person, I just come across as, well, surly, I suppose would sum it up alright. I'm so wary of others, I just need time to warm up to them. Once I'm able to call them a friend, I open up a bit, even about my history, which I prefer not to bring up. I tend to keep things short and to the point. It does take me a while to open up to someone, and my history is about the last thing I'll share.

Now on to a few of my better traits. Like I mentioned earlier, I'm quite intellegent. Being from a poorer district, I'm self-sufficient and have a fair amount of confidence in myself. I'm a born skeptic, which often times turns out to be a good thing. Although it takes me a while to trust others, I'm a reliable person myself. I would call myself honest as well, but I'll pull stories out of my head to avoid questions, especially about sensitive topics. I say what I mean, and I mean what I say. Once I've developed a friendship with someone, I become more defensive, and soften up. Now, there's a reason for some of my more..er..negative charcateristics. I mean, I don't think I'd be much of a people person anyway, but my past does have something to do with it.

As a young girl, I lived a simple, yet happy life in District Six. My mother ran a small apothecary shop in the shabbier section of town, and though I wasn't too keen on heeling the sick, (I admit, though I felt bad, it also grossed me out) I picked up a some useful information.

I was born to Lilly and Aaron Deepak on a frigid night in the coldest January anyone could remember. I had a single older brother, four years my senior. My family was very close knit and loving, and I was a bit more friendly and gentle then I am now. I had a small group of friends, my very best a boy a just a year older by the name of Kaden. He was as adventurous and as willing as I was to take risks. Perhaps that's why we grew so close, most of my other friends were much more cautious. We were almost always found together, sometimes creating mischief or just goofing on a weekend. At one point, we even tried to sneek outside the district, an offense that offered a severe punishment if we were found out. One way or another, we managed to slip just out side. We were thrilled to have made it; neither of us had ever been into the forest before. Togther we had ventured out a ways, and thought we had surely been caught when we came across an elderly man, whom we recognized from town and knew to be very strict. It was shocking to see somone we though to be a law abiding citizen breaking such a strictly enforced rule. Much to out surprise and relief, he did not repremand us. He did however, advise us to return to the saftey of Six and not venture out into the wild again. We reluctantly agreed, but within the short time we had conversed, and small friendship had developed. After several months, he began to teach us the basics of hand to hand combat and knife throwing. I wasn't all too bad, but unfortunately our lessons were quickly cut short. Abruptly, we stopped meeting, even stopped running in to him town.

I never found out what fate met our friend. I can only assume he passed.

Things were about as fine and dandy for me as could be in District Six, until the year I turned twelve. My brother was caught steeling medicine and other supplys destined to the Capitol that my mother also used in her shop. The head peackeeper at the time was particularly harsh, and in a stupor watched him put a bullet through his head. Everything went downhill from there. My once tender and loving mother became hardened with sadness and my father with his twinkling blue eyes and cheerful way became a drunk. I rarely saw him even remotely sober after that. At times, he even hit my mother or I. Slowly, I became more closed off and distrustful. Many of those I once called my friends began avoiding me. Soon it was only Kaden who stood by my me. If I had thought things couldn't've gotten any worse, I was wrong. The next year, a peacekeeper caught Kaden lurking around outside the district border. We both were outside the fence that day, but I made to conceal myself. Kaden was not so lucky. Just like my brother, they put a bullet through his head while I watched in a daze. I still used to beat myself up about it. Telling myself I should have stepped forward, not tried to hide like a coward. But I suppose it wouldn't have done any good. It would just have been two dead instead of one. My parents only got worse, and I only became more distrustful and rigid.

My father became more abusive and my mother, who never used to raise her voice, was constantly screaming at either him or myself. My fear and hatred of my parents as well as the Capitol only grew, and after a while I simply couldn't stand it any longer. I got my hands on an old rucksack of my father's, threw in extra clothing and some food. I managed to dig up an fine knife of my brother's and then I took off. I slipped into the forest and didn't look back. At the time I'd thought it was a foolish thing to do. If I didn't die on my own, the Capitol would surely catch up with me and end it all. No thirteen year old could survive alone in the wilderness. But I did. I came close to death more times then I'd've cared to, but I did it. Looking back on the ordeal, I tell myself I did the right thing in leaving. I've been living out here for three years now. I still beat myself up about running. Such a cowardly act, trying to run away from the memories etched permenantly into my mind. I know I'll never escape them. Never stop reliving Kaden and my older brother's death in vivid nightmares. But even if I could go back, I wouldn't. I will not make it look like I need support, that I can't take care of myself. I can. And I have been for the past three years.