Camellia Middlemist District:12

I am short, I stand about 5”6 and weigh about 120 pounds. I'm skinny but not starved. Unlike the seam kids I am fed well enough to keep fit. My light brown curls sit just past my jaw, I pull it up out of my face with a daisy clip. I love the sent of flowers and I always smell of them. You will always see me in a dress usually light colors. My deep green eyes brighten my soft pale face.

My face is thin with freckles near my eyes, and childlike even though I am seventeen. I have bumps and bruises under my clothes where no one can see them. I am thin and fit, I have clear definition in my arms and strong legs. My checks are pink and my ears small. My lips are thin and I wear a frown. My eyebrows are rounded giving my face a soft look. My hands are small but have a metal bracelet around the right one.

For some reason I am likeable to the kids in my classes in the halls at school they wave to me but I do not like them. I am weary of them, of people in general, except the young ones the innocent ones. I hear the boys talk about me they say I am pretty, if they could see all my scars I don't think they would like me anymore. I don't trust them, any of them. They care only for themselves. Plants are what I put my trust in.

I am smart, or so my teachers tell me; Above average I guess. I love to read, to study, to learn. I find the books written from the early days of the hunger games to be the most interesting, like a piece of fiction that is fact. I study plants, like my father and I love them but nobody but him understands my fascination with them. I love the little ones, the kids in the seam; I miss meals sometimes to give them my supper. No one that innocent should have to suffer, I cant even remember my own innocence.

I hate my home with my father and step mother. I love my father and envy him but I have nothing but hatred for his wife. I have “breakdowns” when he leaves me with her and they last for days after he returns. I will do anything I have to do to survive, because I am resilient. I depend on myself for support and despite my mental instability I can count on myself.

My mother died giving birth to me. I have been nothing but a burden since my birth. My father tried to raise me on his own but decided I needed a mother, so he married my stepmother. My dad is out often for deliveries and I am left alone with her. He never notices the bruises no one ever does. The only one who sees the scars are me, when I shower.

When I was a young girl, I used to play with the kids from the seam, but as we grew older and they realized that being from town had more then they did and slowly began to hate me, or at least the ones who didn't die of starvation did. After a particularly bad beating I would wish I was from the seam, starving to death was better then living in fear; I was always good at living in fear. I never could stand the kids from in town, they were to normal they didn't understand hardship, I felt so far away from the kids that were just down the street.

I would work with my dad in the flower shop making beautiful bouquets and healing mixtures for the apothecary. I studied the books and was able to create a poison to keep bugs away from our gardens out behind the shop. I was always good at new mixture, and they gave me precious time with my father.
I had no fear of death, more then not I welcomed it but I always had the misfortune to wake up the next morning. I never had a problem taking life, the bugs and animals that wanted our plants, the starving old man who tried to seal an onion. I felt nothing when I saw his dead body in our garden, nothing when I realized it was my poisons that put him there.

I am resilient, I withstand abuse and use it as a fuel. I don't easily trust people and am unlikely to be back stabbed but am also unlikely to accept help or form alliances. I have mental breakdowns that leave me unaware of things going on and I have an obsession for innocence and protecting innocence.