Wren Leveseque of District 8

"You are beautiful, don't let anyone tell you different."

My mother used to always tell me this. I believed it until I was about ten, then I came to realize that I wasn't in any form of beauty. I came to realize that I would never have any friends. My beauty inside would never come out because of what I looked like on the outside.

"I'm sorry for what I did to hurt you. Now, you will never be looked upon as normal. I'm...so...sorry."

My father told me that when I was 9. He always used to feel responsible for my scar, even though it was never his fault. Though I know I am ugly, I feel no different because of my looks.

My black hair is short and choppy. I cut it off because I couldn't stand working with long hair at the mill, as it was just to much to work with. Honestly, I think I do look better with short, boyish hair than long hair. My eyes are what normally gets people. My left eye is a startling pale green color, and by the pupil it seems to be at its lightest. On the outside of my iris though, is an emerald green that is darker than the rest of my eye. Both the lashes on my right and left eye are long and pitch black, the color of my hair. My right eye is blurry and a gray color. Out of that eye, I am blind and cannot see anything. On my face, is a scar that interferes with the beauty that my mother told me I could've had. I have a scar that goes from the very top of my right forehead where my hairline starts to the middle of my cheek. I never try to conceal the scar, as it is apart of who I am. I'm not ashamed. I'm not scared. But, if I ever do find that son of a bitch who gave me it, he'll receive a scar too.

My skin, like most others in District 8, is snow-white pale. It is also a bit ashen from the pollution. My cheeks are a light rosy color, and my eyebrows are dark brown and fairly thin. My nose is more of a flat kind, as the bottom of my nose is pretty flat. My lip is the same color as my skin, and it is usually chapped.

My neck is a bit longer than most people's, but it doesn't bother me much. My chest is fairly flat, which I enjoy because it's a lot easier to do work with less weight on your body. My arms, as some might say, are quite muscular. Not in a bulky way, but in a strong way. On the other hand some might per say me as small, only standing at 5'3" and 105 pounds, but that makes me quick on my feet.

The clothing I usually wear is a black muscle shirt that was my father's and he passed it down to me. It's about ten years old, but it's the most comfortable thing I've worn. In the winter months, I throw on a navy blue, oversized jacket that's two times too big on me. It has fur on the inside, though it is worn, and it keeps me very warm when it is cold outside. In both summer and winter months, I wear dark green pants that has at least ten pockets on them. I wear a belt to that holds the tools I carry around with at work. Lastly, I wear black, extremely worn combat boots that have several rips in them. They are good for anything usually, and they probably still have a couple years left in them.

"If you don't have a good heart, nobody will even take you seriously. You will just be another person, inside and out."

My mother always had a way with words, and I wish I could have been just like her. Smart, fearless, kind. But in the end, personality doesn't matter. What matters is your survival in the harsh rule of each district. Whether you're intelligent or dumb, kind or evil, strong or weak, you will never stand out in the eyes of the Capitol unless you're apart of their precious games. Then you're the only thing that matters to them.

"Small acts of bravery can be taken a long way. And I believe that you can be the bravest person in the district if you try hard enough."

My father taught me how to be brave, and I believe I am. Whether it'd be barring through each day by being the laughing stock of the district, or by working day and night at the job you really do love. Bravery feels like the only thing I have left. Hope? Nah, I lost that a long time ago. There was no saving us. Kindness? Kindness won't get you anywhere but in a crappy job that involves a meal every couple of days. To be successful in this world, you have to buckle down the belt, be brave, and try to keep your emotions to a minimum.

If anyone calls out for help, I will save them. If anyone wants to try to pick a fight with me, I'll fight back. But if anyone tries to mess with my family, I will crush them. Family motivates me, and without family, I would be lost in a sea of depression. I am the silent type, not really saying much except responding to tasks or talking to my family.

The one trait I wish I had though, is the trait of intellect. Both of my parents were smart, and the only thing I'm good at I working with machines. I'm failing all of my classes at school, not understanding the concept behind the Hunger Games, and I can't even think right in a situation. Though with my dumbness comes with good things. I can always imagine some place better than the Districts or the Capitol. A world where we are free, and people can travel. A world where we don't get whipped for the smallest things or get turned into an avox for running away. We can roam free and live by ourselves. That's a world I've always imagined. And everyday during school, I escape to that place. Without that place, I would never know what to do with my life. Probably just be lost in my thoughts in a world of confusion.

Who will be our superhero? When things go wrong, they'll save the day. Who will be our superhero? We need you now to fly us to a better place.

Singing that song in my head always calmed me down. I don't know why, but a cry for help sounds good in my book. A cry for help with our country, a cry for help to stop these wretched games, and a cry for help for me to have friends.

My father grew up in the wealthier part of District 8. He was the co-owner of a factory that was in our village. He grew up to learn how to run the family business. He was smart and clever, and he had a lot of ladies lining up to be his next wife.

My mother grew up in one of the poorest places in District 8. She would only be able to afford a small meal of broth and bread a day, but she never complained. She was always kind and thankful to everyone she met. My mother and father went to the same school when they were both 16. When they ended up being in the same class, my father loved her the day he first met her. Though she was poor, she was quite beautiful, but my father didn't care about beauty. He loved her kindness the most. A couple years later, he asked her to marry him, she said yes, and the story goes on.

I am the first and only child of the Leveseque family. When I was young, I was the most beautiful little girl according to my mother. My family would dress me up in the cutest dresses and take me out to the factory, were I learned how the machinery works. I loved learning how each part goes into one another and how things keep running. I made a couple friends at the factories that were a couple years older than I was. They were so kind and compassionate to me.

Little did I know they did it to impress my father by being brown-nosers.

When I was seven, old enough to be on my own, my father went to work and my mother volunteered at a soup market to help the needy. I was playing in my room with a board, a screw, and a wrench. All of a sudden, I heard a noise that sounded like the breaking of a window. I walked into the other room and saw three men snooping around my house with bags. They stole everything. From projectors to tables to my dolls. And before they left, they gave me a personal present.

The present of my scar.

"Be quiet little girl, or things will get messy," they told me. I didn't believe them and I let out a scream. With the knife in their hand, they scratched my face, leaving me on the ground crying.

My father came home and took me to the doctor wing. There was nothing they could do, so I was sent home in a couple hours with a tissue on my eye. A couple days later, I came to realize that I was blind. I hated it, but I would get used to it.

Now I work in the factory my dad owns. I am the head mechanic, but I work for free. Just tooling around with the machines is the greatest feeling to me. I wouldn't trade anything in the world for it. But, I have no friends, so I work silently. Maybe there is an escape, but if there is, I haven't found one yet.

I like my profile colorful! Haha!