Kamryn, D2 {DONE}

Name: Kamryn Angelica Lockheart
Age: 15
Gender: Female
District/Area: District 2
Appearance:

Well, let's see. I never pay much attention to my looks, only when I look in the mirror to brush my teeth or hair. What I can remember from that isn't much, but I'll try my best.


I have dark black hair, reaching almost to my waist. I always part it on the left side, directly above my eye. Never the right, and never in the middle. It seems to part that way naturally. My eyes are a rather dull green color, like the dying grass outside our house. At least it's a difference from the dull gray eyes of most District 2 people.

I'm of average height, probably 5" 8'. Some actually say I'm short, but that's usually coming from the taller kids at school. I don't let them get to me. My face is narrow, with sharp edges. You can just look at me and realize: I'm not a friendly girl.

I have a scar running up my left arm, from the wrist to the elbow. I wear it with pride. When I was thirteen, I challenged someone to a sword fight. I lost, and wounded myself in the process. But I kind of like the scar: it tells others I've been in a fight and survived.

How will my looks help me in the games? I think I would be very intimidating. I'm an Excellant knife thrower, and I can run. I can't climb, though. I'm too heavy, and the part I don't like to admit is that I'm scared of heights.

Personality:

I live for the Hunger Games. I long to be a tribute. I have trained my whole life for this, starting the very day I arrived from District 11. To most kids, I'm just plain scary, which I like. No one messes with me, especially when I'm holding a knife.

I have deadly aim with a knife. The regular targets in the training center are far too easy. I love hitting the string that holds them up and hearing the clatter as it hits the floor. The ugly thud of a dummy crashing to the floor after my knife as entered its chest. The yell of a District 2 child when I nearly hit them with the training weapons. All these sounds are music to my ears.

I do not develop trust vey easily. I would never make an ally in the arena. Of course, I might fake an alliance and then kill them in the middle of the night. That's what I'm known for: being a traitor. I've made friends and then ditched them the next day. Rohan is my only true friend. My brother, I call him. I know we aren't really siblings, but I prefer to think that we are.

History:

My history is a long one. I was born on July 2, almost sixteen years ago. My father's name was Seeder, and my mother was Waverly. They both lived in District 11. That's where I grew up, until my fifth birthday.

Mom and dad had taken me to the orchards, to show me how to pick apples from the trees. Dad was up about fourth feet in the air, reaching for an apple. And then it happened.

I remember everything, from the crack of a branch, to my mother's scream, to the sickening thud of my father's body hitting the ground. There he was, right before me; dead. My mother soon followed. She died of starvation/sadness. She closed up, wouldn't eat, talk or sleep. She died without a word a few months after my father.

The peacekeepers took me to District 2, believing I would have a better life there. Why they cared for me, I don't know. My new mother's name was Kay, and my new father was Samuel. They had only one son, named Rohan. He was a year older than me. We became friends when I was twelve. We accepted each other as siblings when I was fourteen.

Like I said before, I take a long time to make trust.

Codeword: oDair
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