Phoenie Seimmer | District 02

Name: Phoenie "Phee" Seimmer
Age: Sixteen
Gender: Female
District/Area: District 02

Appearance:

Those who say I'm like no one else know me best.
Those who say I'm like everyone else don't know me at all.

Well, I’m not the prettiest girl in the world, so to speak. I’m rather average, at least, for my district. I stand at a short five foot three, weighing just over one hundred and thirteen pounds. I’ve always thought that I was a nice size, not too skinny, nor too big. Across my stomach is a large scar running from the bottom of my breastbone, down to my private areas. I received this scar when I was only seven, and I had a large tumor growing inside of me due to my mother’s drug habits during her pregnancy. I don’t really look at it as a flaw, but more as a reason to keep living; I don’t want to end up like my mother did.

Like my mother, I have medium-length black hair with natural volume. It may not be very wavy or curly, but it sure has a mind of its own. With a little product, it’s easy to keep under control. In my opinion, headbands and clips are annoying. I mean, who wasn’t to walk around all day feeling something scratching your scalp? I prefer to either wear a bandana – in any color to match my outfit, or some kind of beanie hat. They’re pretty old-style in these parts of town where I live, but I survive with them. When I turned fifteen, I got my hands on some capitol hair dye. Tempted to find out how it would look, I dyed my whole head of hair bright red. It was nice for a while, but then my roots began to appear. At first, I was horrified, but then I realized that it seemed to begin to fade into the red, rather than being a dramatic change.

One thing that I love about myself is my eyes. I don’t love them because of their color or their shape, but I rather love them because they’re my father’s eyes. Around the rim of the Iris lies a chestnut brown color, which rapidly fades into an olive green. During the nighttime, they appear darker, and in the sunlight, they appear almost hazel. They’re perfectly almond-shaped, with my dark eyelashes sprouting from the edges of my eyelids. They’re not as long as I’d like them to be, but I’m perfectly fine with how they are.

Okay, so the one physical thing that annoys me the most is my figure. I don’t really have a defined shape, rather being straight all the way down. My breasts are only an ‘a’ cup, and my hips are about as wide as my waist. My legs are longer compared to my torso, but their horribly to thin. My thighs are both full and small, being larger compared to the area between my knee and my feet. My skin is naturally dry, meaning that I use a lot of moisturizer. I was never the girl to get acne, but rather the one to come into school one day with a face red from sunburn. It always burned and resulted in being sticky with aloe gel all day long on the weekends. Whenever the sun seems to turn my skin red with it’s violent rays, I end up with light brown freckles on my arms and across my chest. I’m super self-conscious about them, because they don’t really go with the flow with the rest of my body.


Personality:

You know how depressing it is to talk about your flaws, right? – Because most of my personality traits are flaws. While I can be totally honest most of the time, I have a way of being overly honest. I tend to hurt everyone’s feelings without meaning to, but when someone asks be a heart-felt question, I’m not going to lie to them. I have this horrible conscious that tells me to do the right things all the time, and it just annoys me. I don’t want to be the goody-two-shoes that I used to be known as, so I try to be different than the others. When around others that don’t make me want to murder them, I can be very friendly. I’m not the socialite of the group, but I can easily make small talk about what’s happening around town. My father used to call me the “little bird” because, while I’m shy and quiet a lot of the time, I’m still a little gossiper.

When I was ten years old, my mother got sick and tired of having to punish me for not being able to sit still or being upright defiant towards her, so she took me to the psychologist. I was diagnosed with ADHD and chronic depression – but that’s another story for another day. Since that diagnosis, I’ve been on special medication to keep me calmer, but I have a smaller temper for things. I get agitated easier than I used to, and I can’t help but pick out the flaws in everything and everyone I look at. I still have no patience at all, but because my mother tells the psychologist that I’m better than I used to be, I have to continue to take the medicine.

As odd as it seems, I’m very paranoid most of the time. I have a feeling while at home and at school that everyone is out to get me. It may as well be true, and because of that, I don’t trust anyone – not even my loving father. I don’t mean to block others out of my personal life and my problems, but I know only gossip and trouble can come from it. If you can’t trust yourself, what makes you think you can trust others? When anyone upsets me or begins rumors about me, I seem to lash out. I can be a backstabber during the times when I’m upset, screaming or telling off my only friends to have them running away from me. When I look in the mirror during these times, my face is set in a permanent scowl for the rest of the day.

History:

When I was born, everything was alright. I had a seven-year-old and a four-year-old brother, the eldest named Deshawne, and the youngest Mathias. My parents were happy, at least, for the moment. I grew up in the outskirts of district two, which wasn’t the richest part of town. We had enough money to live a nice lifestyle, but not enough to purchase a four bedroom house in the central area of district two. I was always asking for things as a child, which I often ended up getting. But, when I was eight years old, I received one thing that I never asked for. When I went for my annual checkup, my mother silently admitted to the doctor that she was on strong LSD drugs while she was pregnant with me. Of course, being so young, I didn’t know what that meant.

The doctor had to pull me aside and tell me that I had a “birth defect”. It was a small tumor inside of my intestines that had grown since I was just in my mother’s womb. It was the month before my birthday when I had the surgery, and luckily, my family didn’t owe much money to the hospital due to our coverage. When the procedure was over, I was left with a long scar that traveled down from the bottom of my breast bone, to below my bellybutton.

During my birthday party when I turned nine was the moment the torturing began. A few of the kids from school and I had a swimming party at one of the public swimming areas in the central area of my district. When they all saw my pinkish scar, they treated me as if I was a monster – or worse, ugly. From then on, I began having nicknames at school while I was constantly teased by the older and more popular children. My mother saw my change in state around that time, and she took me to the children’s psychologist. He diagnosed me with ADHD along with chronic depression. I always seemed to be down in the dumps or paranoid at something.

When I turned twelve years old, my anxiety and paranoia was at an all-time high. My depression was quickly fading away, due to a boost of self confidence being a preteen, but it also meant that I would be entering the reaping soon. My mother immediately begun training me harder than she had over the past years of my life, making sure I was in best shape if I was reaped. Of course, though, I wasn’t. Every year around four to five months before the reaping, I went under intense training from both of my parents with my brothers. They never were reaped, and soon, they were free of the terrible games. I began to be more quiet as I aged, not being as social as I was as a little girl, but still as paranoid.

Codeword: odair

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