Re: //S a t i n A b r e y// -District 11- [DONE]

APPEARANCES MATTER TO SOME.
I am not beautiful. And, I am not ugly. I am not short or a straight standing woman. I am pretty when you dunk gallons of makeup on me, but like theres any of that in District 11. My skin is lightly tanned, and my hair of course a dirty blonde. I could not care what you think of the fact I never wear jeans, only dresses, or the fact that even when the wind is slamming me back against the farms im tending I still wear those dresses. I don't care if my pupils are only the slightest bit bigger than normal -- but big enough for you to look at them and think "is there something wrong with her eyes?". I don't care if my ears look like upside-down eggs, or if my legs are incredibly long. Maybe, looks matter to some. But they don't to me.
I'm not muscular, but i'm not fat. My hands are bony and long, and my body is shrinking and sunken in. My posture is the tiniest bit slouchy, and my hairs always falling in front of my eyes like I need a couple of bobby pins or its all going to just, plop, fall right off. I am not one of the Capitolite's crazy models that dye their hair hair blue and fall in love with men who only love them for their looks. I am an average looking girl, with average weight, height, everything. At least, I am for my District. District 11.
I never know what to do with my awkward, gawky legs, or my eyes that seem to wander when I don't notice. I'm always tripping over myself, ripping things and breaking bones. I am used to this by now. My eyes are a dark green, with little golden specks glimmering and floating around. I have dark, raspy, ugly bruises and scars covering my back from when I got caught in a fire.
But, honestly, I don't give a flying fuck what anyone thinks about my looks. Looks are only a shell of whats inside the candy. Know what I mean? Know it? Probably not. Lot's of you people out there can't see what's right in front of their faces. They don't know when to look at the individual trees vs. the forest. Most often, people look at the world like one big forest. "All the capitolites care about money and looks and fun, while we work and no one gives a shit". That isn't true. Look at the trees.
Anyway, on with my looks.
I often wear light, baggy clothing that sinks around me. As I said, dresses. Always dresses. But the thing that stands out to me is my necklace. It's family heritage. My mom had it before me, her mom had it before her, her mom, her mom, it can go on forever. It's a small glass globe, and inside is a watch. Bronze incases it. On the other side, there is a fading map of Panema. In particular, our District. Number 11. It shows where I can find foods, where houses are, and anything I would need.
I never take it off. Ever. It is my symbol, my token. I am known for it. People say
"Oh, do you Satin?"
"You mean that girl with the watch necklace?"
"Yeah that's her!"

It's my hope.

WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?
Im a fighter. That's who I am. Shy around anyone but myself (brave as hell when i'm around myself) but a fighter for a shy girl. When people think of me they think of that crazy girl who wouldn't hurt a fly. But they're wrong. I wouldn't hurt a fly, i'd hurt a human. I have before... and I regret it, but when pressure is put on me, I don't think and do whatever I can to survive. But, like I said, no one knows that but me.
And the guy I hurt.
Another thing you should know about me is that I am a master of hiding my emotions. I'm sad? Just the shy girl. I'm mad? Just the shy girl. Jealous? Just the shy girl. List any emotion I could feel and people will still think I'm just the shy girl. And I can use that to my advantage. If people don't know what I feel, it makes it much harder for them to target my weaknesses. Much harder, indeed.
The only time I can't hide my emotions are the few time I crack under pressure. Thats the one thing I can't deal with. When that happens, my emotions are as clear as Mount Everest right in front of your face. And then, then I start getting violent. Attacking people...
Like that boy.
He's dead, now.

HISTORY MAKES US WHO WE ARE.
I was born in a small hut by the field my mom worked it. Premature, too. But, even then I was a little fighter. I managed to stay alive somehow despite the fact I was two months early and gasping for air. I don't know why my mom named me Satin, I guess its because for a baby coming out at 7 months my skin was soft as satin. And, for the early years of my childhood until this day, I spent my days helping out on the fields. When I was young, it was simply handing people baskets, braiding the women's hair, and occasionally organizing the fruits into different boxes and containers.
Now, though, I'm like the rest. Laboring away, cutting plants or picking berries and shuffling them away into boxes and bowls to be shipped off to other Districts and the Capital. We hardly get to eat any of it, many of us starve. The peacekeepers are cruel and whip us, but mostly kill, if we try to sneak any of the food.
When I was 10 I tried to dig under the gate to escape from this hell. A peacekeeper found me and whipped me 'till i couldn't breathe and someone had to risk themselves to get me away. I haven't tried since, and I don't think I will be trying any time soon. I'd rather not redo that situation.
Now, here I am. 16. I've been working my whole life and some Districts you don't even start 'till 18. It's hard but in a way it's rewarding because it gives me strength and durability if I ever get into the games. God help me if I do, because the career kids in higher districts honestly scare me to death and I wouldn't go near one. Ever. They train all their lives to murder and wouldn't flinch at the thought of killing 100 innocent people.
So here I am.
16 and still afraid.