Shakel, D2 {DONE!}

My appearance? That's something I don't like to talk about, but I guess I can make an exception.

My mother says I'm very pretty, and my father says I take after her. I have fiery red hair, with wavy curls in it. So does my mother. Another thing we have in common are our eyes. They're both emerald green, like a meadow on a summer's day.

How are some ways I take after my father? Well, I'm fairly tall, probably standing around 6" 5'. I'm a few inches taller than most of the boys in my school...something I like. My legs make up most of my body, my older sister is always telling me. I'm built for running, but not stamina.

That brings me to how I would do in the Hunger Games. I think I'd have a fairly good chance of surviving, compared to others. Like I said, I can outrun most...in a sprint. I have little to no endurance, unfortunately. My hands are small, but with long fingers, built for carving tiny jewels for the Capitol.

Okay, that's enough about my looks. Ugh, why did I even have to fill that out?

As you might have noticed in the appearance section, I don't enjoy talking about my looks, much less make myself look pretty. I'd rather be like any normal kid in District 1. Anyway, how do I describe my personality?

Mother says I'm like a puzzle, and you have to be patient if you want to see the finished piece. I really enjoy teaching my two younger sisters, Ivy and Quill, to carve jewels. Their hands are just like mine: small with long fingers. Perfect for carving.

Something I like to do is play music. I think I inherited this trait from my father. One day I found I piece of oak on the ground, and I started carving right away. I made a type of harmonica, you might say. It was several different wind pipes, tied together with a brown string. Each one makes a different sound when you blow into it. Over the years, I tough myself to play it. I may be able to make music, but I can't sing. I'm terrible at it.

I find great delight in carving things, especially crystal. I once carved a small pyramid about an inch tall, and the Capitol let me keep it. I have it in my room on my dresser, and when the sunlight hits it, my room looks like a rainbow of colors.

That brings me to another point. I admire art. I notice little things that don't seem of any significance at first, but when you look closely, they're very beautiful: a cardinal's whistle, a simple sunrise, the wings of a butterfly, a violet poking up through the dirt. So you might say I notice really tiny things, and sometimes even get distracted by them.

Father is always telling me to get my head out of the clouds and pay attention to the world around me.

Now, this might be a challenge. I don't have a very impressive memory, but let's see what I can recall.

I was born on January 3, just short of New Year's Day. Mother tells me the story over and over again. It was January 2, and a huge snowstorm had been pounding at the door for five days. For three of those days, my family had been snowed in. Kanta, my older sister, was three years old, not yet old enough to help the family.

Just short of midnight, mother woke up in pain. Kanta woke up and started to scream because she was hungry. She was still in the cradle...mother has never told me why. Anyway, my parents knew right away I would be born soon.

Twelve hours later, father knew something was wrong. Mother was still in pain, and I wasn't out yet. They worried and fretted, unable to do anything about it. Another four agonizing hours later, I was born. Not breathing. Father took me and started to rub my chest, and by some miracle, I took my first breath. It was a struggle for the first two months, keeping me alive. But I made it.

Quill and Ivy, the twins, were born six years later. I got jealous, because mother always payed more attention to them. One day, I actually tryed to run away.

I came back a half hour later because I had tripped and scraped my knee. A half hour is pretty good, taking in the fact that I was only six years old. I remember it was raining, and I was soaking wet. Father took me in his big arms and rocked me back and forth, whispering in my ear: 'I love you Shakel, I love you. Your mother loves you, your sister loves you.' Mother wrapped a towel around me and sat me by the fire. That was all I needed to know that this was where I belonged.