Fawn Rockwell-District 10{Finished!}

anthena427

guest

Fawn Rockwell-District 10{Finished!} Apr 5, 2012 8:25:12 GMT -5

Post by anthena427 on Apr 5, 2012 8:25:12 GMT -5

Name: Fawn Rockwell
Age: 12
Gender: Female
District/Area: District 10
Appearance:

EYES:DARK BROWN.HAIR: BLOND LIKE THE SUN! REAPING CLOTHES. FACIAL FEATURES. TORSO. LEGS:LONG PIMPLES AND ZITS. EXTRA HAIRY NOSE HAIR

Personality:

DOESNT HAVE THOUGHTS ABOUT HG TILL NOW. GETS DEPRESSED A LOT DUE TO SPEAKING PROBLEM. LOVES HORSES AND GOOD WITH ANIMALS.EASYGOING. ARTISTIC.GOOD WORKER

History:

MOTHER DIED AT AGE 5. DROWN IN THE RIVER.NAME WAS BROTHER DIED WHEN SHE WAS 8. NAME WAS DERIC ROCKWELL.WHILE OUY IN THE FOREST HIS CHEST WAS CRUSHED BY ROCK. HIS BREATHE SLOWLY FADED AND SHE WAS TAUGHT THE FAMILY LULLABEY THOUGH SHE SHOULD HAVE LEARNED IT AT AGE 10, LEFT ON HER OWN. FATHER TRIES TO SUPPORT HER. GOT HER FIRST HORSE AGE 9.BLACK STALLION NAMED DOG-->WHOLE STORY BEHIND NAME.

Codeword: ODAIR
Comments/Other:

--->Will be put into different format below

Last Edit: Apr 7, 2012 21:36:18 GMT -5 by anthena427

anthena427

guest

Fawn Rockwell-District 10{Finished!} Apr 7, 2012 21:34:04 GMT -5

Post by anthena427 on Apr 7, 2012 21:34:04 GMT -5

N A M E ) ( F A W N R O C K W E L L)
A G E ) ( 1 2 )
D I S T R I C T ) ( 1 0 )

x.X.x. Looks x.X.x.

I look into the mirror and don't see what I want to see. I want to see this in vision of my mother but I see more father in myself. There is one thing I see, her eyes. The color of the night and of her hair, that deep luminous brown. They give off that emotion and radiance that I long for. Sacred to me, I hide them away under a jacket Hoodie. You would think a mother would pull the Hoodie from your eyes and tell you they are beautiful but I don't have a mother, I have a father. A father who feeds me,bathes me, and clothes me but doesn't love me like she or my brother did.

I stare at the reflection before me and cry. I am more and more like my father everyday. My hair is the color of his, bright like the sun. It is even tangled and matted like his. There is one special quality I get from my mother and it comforts me. I have long thick hair exactly like she did. I swear if I had my father's short thin hair I would go mad! My hair is also similar to my dead brother's which had that dark brown to it like I do my eyes. Though he had short thin hair.

I am not the one to wear makeup because if you know me, I think it takes away you as a person. The capitolites are so perfect but flaws make us, us! I have a few pimples and zits on my forehead I don't worry about because brother was about my age and had them before he died. I also seem to grow a lot of nose hair for my age. I have to inspect and pluck them at least once a week. They are usually that nasty black no one likes!

Being a farmer's daughter I have 2 pairs of clothes. One is my casual wear and the other is my reaping day dress. My daily outfit consists of a shirt, jacket, pants, and boots. My shirt is a light blue with manure stains from working with the horses. My jacket is pure leather and even has a zipper and Hoodie. My pants are an old pair of jeans ripped and torn from my old brother, Deric. My boots are long and go up to my knee almost. They have ties that go all the way up as well. For reaping day I wear a beautiful pink dress. It is scruffy at the sleeves and at the bottoms.

I am short at 4'11 and it has its disadvantages. I also weigh 89 pounds which I think is good because some us in this district weigh as little as 50 pounds. The fat on my body is spread equally between my long legs and stomach. My average sized arms even contribute a bit too.

[/size][/color]

X.x.X. Personalty X.x.X.

I never really thought about the Hunger Games till I was actually in the drawing. It all seemed too odd. Once I was told I was old enough to enter I started thinking more and more and more about it. It was a million to one, right? I surely hoped so. I had plenty of years ahead of me and I didn't want to die before I was 18. It might be an option considering I might get my family again in heaven. I couldn't just leave my father to fend for himself though, I was all he had.

I get depressed really bad when my speaking order starts acting up. Sometimes I wake up some mornings and can't speak at all. It is even worse when I have to go to schools on days like that. I have learned sign language along with my teachers to prepare for these days. I still get made fun of though. I just hate the names! When I get home from school that day I gets stubborn. I don't do my chores and I hide in the darkness.

I am known as "the heart of the horses" by my father. I laugh and continue to brush their magnificent fur. It is just so soft and delicate. I sing to them like they were humans and it's funny because my mother used to do the same thing. This usually calms down the newly found wild horses my father brings into the ranch. You could call me a daredevil because I love to hop on the new ones which jump and spit widely. I just laugh and enjoy the ride.

I love to draw and sing, making me artistic. When drawing it is almost always rock against rock, making the images look as if it were a caveman drawing in my textbook. Singing is my secret joy. My voice can hit almost all notes except the very deep ones. I actually sing my family's lullaby, Safe and Sound. It didn't originate in my family but it a family tradition.

[/size]

x.X.x. History x.X.x.

[/size]

I used to walk in the forest with a giddy smile on my face but now it's impossible. Too many of my close relatives have died there. When I climb over the fence tears rush down my face is agonizing pain! I finally reach my mother's grave which is covered in bright yellow wildflowers. I fall to a kneel and pray that one day I can join her. I continue to walk and I fall upon my brother's grave. Nothing was special on his but a little piece of paper planted in the ground reading "Deric Rockwell". I knew he deserved better but I couldn't offer much more.

When I was 3 I was happy. I had a nice family for at least 2 more years. This was at the most and at the very least. When I was 5 the world fell on my shoulders. My brother had followed my mother into the woods to get water while I stay curled up in my bed. My brother described it as a cool spring day with the sweet smell of new grown flowers. My mother walked slowly toward the river when a group of peacekeepers surrounded her. My mother gave my brother their secret signal if that ever happened and it did.

A fight between my mother and the peacekeepers went on for a whole hour until they got her restrained. That's when they called up the capitol. They tied her to a tree and waited. My mother was too smart for them and reached down to her boot to hold a knife to her neck. She threatened them but they allowed her to cut her own neck ear to ear. She died at her own hands.

When my brother told my father he cried for days but still intended to carry out his duties as a father. it was about a day later and we went down to her body, well, my brother and my father did. They buried her right by the river and place a stone with the letter "D.R." Beside it meaning "Doe Rockwell,”

It was a couple years later when my brother died. I was 8 and he was 12. It was his adventurous nature that killed him. We were up in the woods supposed to be getting water. The idea of exploring made me join him though now I regret it. We found a large open cave that we thought would make an excellent clubhouse if it was stable. Deric gladly volunteered and ran inside.

The cave's opening starts to fall apart as he ran toward it. I screamed at the top of my lungs and rushed toward him. A boulder had him stuck in just by the leg. He told me not to get help but I didn't listen. I ran as fast as I could all the way to the ranch and came back with father. Unfortunately, we had to cur off his leg.

Blood gushed everywhere as we entered his bedroom. My father had done everything he could. He even called an apothecary who gave him some medicine made from herbs in the forest but that was all she could do. Later that night it was about 2:00 a.m. when he called me into his room. He told me to sit so I sat. That was the day I learned our family lullaby. It was so pleasant and sweet. It was about 6:00 a.m. when he died. I was right there with him and sang him the song when slowly to silence. His heart didn't work and all was wrong.

I buried his body because father refused. I wasn't as nifty with the rocks so I found a wrapper and wrote his name on the back. I stuck it on the ground with a rock to hold it in place. I dug a hole later that day and placed his body right across the river from mothers. My flame had died and I was no longer a person who had a true family. I would have to live with father.

I got a black stallion at age 9. It was like a present from all the mourning I had done from the past year. my father didn't understand what I wanted most was a dog rather than a horse. He just laughed said to name it Dog, it wouldn't be no different. So, that's his name now and he still lives and I ride him everywhere. Life wasn't as bad with Dog but it wasn't ever fully filled.

[/size]

[/center]

Fawn's Horse, Dog, in the pasture

[/color]

Last Edit: Apr 8, 2012 19:09:09 GMT -5 by anthena427

anthena427 guest	Fawn Rockwell-District 10{Finished!} Apr 8, 2012 17:29:50 GMT -5 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Back to Top Post by anthena427 on Apr 8, 2012 17:29:50 GMT -5 bump

anthena427 guest	Fawn Rockwell-District 10{Finished!} Apr 9, 2012 21:55:05 GMT -5 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Back to Top Post by anthena427 on Apr 9, 2012 21:55:05 GMT -5 Bump

cameron Retired Staff 1,837 POSTS Pronouns: all spoken with respect last seen Oct 3, 2024 17:10:15 GMT -5 MY SHIT IS TOGETHER - Shy Aubergine	Fawn Rockwell-District 10{Finished!} Apr 9, 2012 22:02:45 GMT -5 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by cameron on Apr 9, 2012 22:02:45 GMT -5 accepted!