Coral Thompson, District 4 [Done]

It would be so much easier just to take a picture of myself rather than explaining it all, but I guess I've got to, otherwise I'll be punished I'm sure. I did add a picture in at the top, just for some color. Anyway, I think I'm supposed to describe my looks in this section, right? Okay. I'm not particularly tall, six feet exactly, the last time I measured myself. You couldn't call me short, either. I've seen seen girls a whole foot shorter than me. Do you know how awkward it is to stand next to someone and have to look all the way down your nose to actually see your face? I don't think you do. Okay, moving on. My skin is just slightly tanned, but no one notices. My natural skin color, is a pale, sickly white, so even with a tan, I look fairer than most. I think my bones are rather skinny, and they meld together pretty well. I don't seem to have any sharp angles, thankfully.

My hair is a chocolate brown color, but when I get the chance, I like to dye streaks of blond all along the outside. I don't get to do this often, though, because I can't always get enough money to purchase the dye. My face is heart shaped, giving me a friendly appeal. Before I continue describing my face, I'll get the bad stuff over with: my nose and my eyebrows. My nose is long and thin, and at the end, it's about the only bony part of my body. I hate it, and I wish it would soften out. My eyebrows, you ask? What do I hate about them? Well, quite like my nose, they are long and thin. Almost invisible, until they reach the highest point in the arch, closer to my nose. Then they get hold and flat, almost making me look like I'm frowning. Why can't I have normal eyebrows? Ones that have the same thickness? I'll never know. Ugh...now that I'm done talking about that, I'd really like to keep moving along. Leave the bad stuff behind and talk about the good stuff. 

My eyes are what I love. They droop a bit at the sides, but I try to ignore that. Instead, I pay attention to the color. They are a deep chocolate brown, almost identical to my hair, but a shade or two darker. It's easier to tell when I've got blond streaks, but I like I said, usually I can't afford that. My mouth is small, but my lips are full, offering a friendly smile and adding to the effect of my heart-shaped face. However, because my lips are full, sometimes it can make me look childish or younger than I really am. Like my mouth was taken and replaced with one from a toddler. It really depends who's looking at me: someone who likes me will say it looks friendly, while someone who doesn't like me will say it looks childish. I get a simple in my chin whenever I smile. I don't mind that, and in fact, a think I like it. Not many residents in District 4 dimple when they smile. It's a rarity, my mother is always telling me.

Well, I suppose I have to be honest with this...then again, I don't really care much what people think of my personality. That's their opinion. As you might have noticed-there's about a 99% chance that you have- I like to talk a lot. Dad says I say about three thousand words a day. He thinks I should bring it down to about fifty. Fifty words a day?! I don't know how I'd manage. I don't know how anyone could manage! Of course, I know he's just kidding, and it's all just a game. Oh well. I like to play along. That kind of hooks in to my second personality trait: I don't like hurting a person or their feelings. I hope I never get reaped, because I don't think Id ever manage to hurt a single tribute. I do train, though, and I guess you could call me a Career. I can run, swim, and shoot an arrow just as well as any other Career. A spear is my real weapon, one I can handle well...am I aloud to speak about that in this section? I don't know. Well, if I'm not, too bad.

As I said, a spear is my best weapon. Every day, before and after school, I go out to the shore with my spear, take a bucket into the water and catch some fish. I'm a fairly good shot, I think, but then again, I've never seen anyone else spearing fish at those times. I've tried using a net to catch fish, but somehow, I always seem to fail. But I keep trying every now and then. I'm pretty determined, you might say. Sometimes that determination can turn into stubbornness. If I want to go to the Training Center after lunch, it's very likely that I'll be there, wether my mom wants me to go or not. I'm also a very organized person. I've a schedule in my head for weekends and weekdays, though I do like to have a slight change every now and then. Part of my schedule relies on other people, and it those other people aren't on time, then I have to rearrange the whole schedule for that day. Kendra and Joey are always complaining about how strict I am, both with my schedule and taking care of them.

They misunderstand: I call being strict responsible. I wouldn't be responsible if I didn't get them to bed at exactly the right time. I wouldn't be responsible if I was late picking them up from school. The list goes on and on of how irresponsible I could be if I wasn't on time. I still have a bit more space here, I see...what else can I talk about? Oh! How about this: I'm a very friendly person, I joke around a lot, and people more often than not take a liking to me. Sometimes mom and dad say I have too many friends, but I don't pay them any mind. They're such worry warts, the two of them. I guess that's why they got married. Anyway, back to the point. I laugh a lot, I know this for sure. Sometimes I hear people snickering behind my back about this, but I don't care. They're not one of my friends, so why should their opinions bother me? Sometimes my jokes can get boring, too. I have a habit of repeating the same jokes over and over again. Thankfully, most people don't mind. Then again, I wouldn't really care of they did mind.

This will be trickier than the last few sections, but I've asked my parents about my history, so I'll make do with what I know. I'm the eldest in a family of nine. My parents, Shell and Aiden, we're afraid to have children, because they were terrified that one of them might get reaped. There first child-me-was an accident. I don't like to think I was an accident, because that just makes me feel unwanted. They don't know how it happened, but Shell got pregnant, and nine months later I came into the world. They named me Coral, after the beautiful necklace they made for me. It was a small piece of bright red coral on a thin piece of rope, tied at the ends. For the first year of my life, my parents worried and fretted, trying to figure out what they would do when I turned twelve. It was not until I was old enough to play that they started appreciating me.

I would toddle around on my chubby legs, laughing and pointing at things. Actually, I don't remember doing any of that, but mom and dad tell me stories all the time. They say the first time I went outside, I picked up a lady bug and ate it. My eyes got big as saucers and I tried to spit it out, but I had already swallowed it. It was not the only time I ate a bug. I ate an ant and two more lady bugs, and a fly before I realized that bugs would always taste gross. Watching me learn and play changed something in my parents hearts. It made them want to have more kids. And so, they did. Their second child was another girl, whom they named Jeanette. Well, Jeanette was her full name, but everyone called her Jenn. I was fine with that. I was never jealous of my younger sister, and my parents were so glad that I wasn't. She was two years and seven months younger than me, almost three years. I would take her hand and drag her around the house, showing her different things. I had only eaten three bugs by that time, and I still thought there was a chance that they tasted good, so the first time Jenn when outside I stuffed one in her mouth. She screamed and started kicking, and I think she had fit, but I ran inside because I was scared that I had done something to her.

After Jenn, the children just kept coming and coming. Drew was next. He was a rambunctious little thing, always getting into trouble, and even at the age of 10, he still enjoys making mischief. The twins, Tori and Riley, followed him three years later. The two stuck together, never really paying much attention to the older three-including me-and they often kept to themselves. That was fine with us. Joey, the quiet one, was next. He's very shy, and a bit of a bookworm, but he isn't afraid to sleek his mind when he's talking to any of his siblings. Kendra came only a year later. Personally, Kendra's my favorite. She simply adores nature, and I don't think she would hurt a fly. I don't know what she would do if she were ever in the games. That is, when she's old enough to be reaped. Another year, and Benjamin was welcomed into the family. But this time, mom and dad were getting a little tired of all the children, and the house was getting crowded. Even with two floors, housing ten people is hard. But, they still had one more to go.

Sandy, little Sandy, was born only a year ago. She's so small and innocent, with thick blond locks and ocean blue eyes. She looks exactly like the dolls I've seen in the toy shop window, minus the lipstick. She does have the rosy cheeks, though, and that cute, pudgy effect with her face. Her laugh is like a hundred tiny little bells in your head, tinkling in harmony. I look at her, and I'm reminded so much of Jenn when she was little. I often tease her about it, but she doesn't mind. Even with eleven people, and hardly enough food to feed seven, we manage quite well. Drew, Jenn, dad and I all work at the harbor, Drew and Jenn and I on weekends, father on week days. We can afford just enough money to pass by as a minor healthy family.