Petal Caves - District 3 *COMPLETE*

Hey, I'm Petal Caves, stupid name, I know. You're not asking about my name though. You want to know what I look like. Well, I guess I'm average height for my age, standing at a proud 5'6". I think that's average anyway. My weight? Well, that's a different matter. There is nothing average about it. I weigh a measly 3.9 stone. Which equates to 54.6 pounds. Yep. I'm literally skin and bones. Why? I'll tell you later.

My hair is nice, but it's straw like due to my bad health. It falls in shoulder length, slightly curled caramel brown locks. My eyes used to be as bright as stars. Now, however, they are dim. They no longer sparkle as I laugh, They no longer show emotion. They just stare, seeing everything but nothing in a dark brown, fading into reality.

I'm pale. What can you expect from someone who has hollowed out cheeks. With my skin pulled so tightly over bones, muscle that no longer exists isn't exactly prominant. The only muscle I keep is my tongue. But even then it's weak if I talk. My nose is boney, a consequence of my predicament. I hate it. But it's all my fault.

My ribs are extremely prominant, so much so that I can even count them when I look in a mirror. I can only say one thing about bras. Don't need them, I have nothing to put in them, again, a product of my stupidity. All my clothes, as you may have gathered, are very loose, baggy and it's a wonder they stay on. They also stay in browns and greens, neutral colours.

Personality? Well... Not much to tell. Other than the fact that I'm very distant. I keep away from people. But I'm also very calm and I have good manners, I would never turn someone away if they approached me. Which they don't. Probably because of how I look. Not that it bothers me. Okay, now I'm beginning to sound bothered. And a bit frantic. Not surprising. Considering my mild case of anxiety.

People tried to befriend me in the past, but even then I was cold, sarcastic and maybe a bit rude. But usually, when I turned them down, I'd regret it. I want a friend, but not one like them. Pitying eyes that sparkle and glisten, and shiny hair. I'm getting off course. This would lead to my lack of concentration. Yep, I'm just full of /perfection/.

Annorexia. That one word, definition? Me. I don't eat... Well, maybe the occasional cracker. But sure. I am prone to getting snappy, especially when people bring up my weight. Well, it's a sore topic. It would be for you too, no? Annorexia isn't something I'm proud of. In fact, I carry a figurative cloud of shame wherever I go, this may have caused my distance and my attitude, like I care.

People are my pet peeve. I hate them. Don't come near me unless you aren't pitying me. I don't need nor want it. So just leave. Me. Be.

History? What about Herstory, or MY story.

I was 6 at the time, halfway to the point that would change my life. For the worst. I was popular, I had so many friends. We'd do everything as a group, even climb trees, or the occasional rock. I was always laughing, joking, and playing in the sun. At this age, my parents were so kind, loving. They'd swing me about as I screamed in joy.

At age 10, nothing had changed, but my friends had distanced from me, I thought it was normal. How wrong I was. I thought nothing of it. Still went out with my parents, even letting them teach me ALL about district 3. I loved them. And despite recent events, I still do.

When I was 12, I was bullied non-stop at school, by people I used to call friends too. It hurt and I was hated, and no one let me forget it. I took comfort in technology, looking at all my cool gadgets and stuff I had. I found myself wondering what it would be like to die as the bullying got worse.

By the time I was 14, it had gotten so bad, that I watched re-runs of the Hunger games, just so I could put myself in the position of dying tributes. I felt so cold all the time. Scared. Delicate. My mother and father had shut off from me, no longer offering help, they'd given up on me. I wasn't surprised. I'd seen the pity in their loving eyes long before they left me fending for myself. I'd felt it in their sad stares.

As they shut off, my depression became worse, I tried starving myself, but I didn't die. So instead, I gave up trying to die, and thought, if school people thought I was worthless, then I must be. Deciding to live with this knowledge made me want to suffer yet live. So I slowly reduced meals, until I hardly ate. Now, I eat one or two crackers a day. If that.

I am Petal Rose Caves. And this is my sad - yet true - story.

I'm just... Not as good as the others.

FC0721 - Actions
048275 - speech
C92E3E - Thoughts
FCFCFC - Speech of Others
07FCE2 - Lyrics/Quotes

Face Claim: Lauren Lopez hopefully