TYLER PATERSON, DISTRICT FIVE

LOUDER THAN SIRENS.

If you didn't know already, my name's Tyler. My mom gave that name to me sixteen years ago, and I haven't seen her or my dad ever since. Even though my name might lead you to believing I'm a boy, I'm actually female. For all my life, I've been living in District Five, and I've grown to love it here. But honestly, I don't feel like mining oil like most of the others, instead, I aspire to be a musician. Many people spend their teens years discover themselves, but there's one thing I'm sure of, I'm pansexual.


LOUDER THAN BELLS.

I always thought I was pretty average looking. Brown hair, brown eyes, fair skin, small ears, small nose, rough and calloused hands, small feet, small toes, small voice, big heart. I can't say I'm disappointed with my looks, because it's better being average than ugly, honestly. My height is around average for girls, five-foot four. I never actually weighed myself, but I think my stomach is pretty flat. My legs are long, I suppose, and so are my arms. My breasts are a little too small for my pleasing, but beggars can't be choosers.

My hair is a chestnut brown, which blondes during the summer and darkens as winter comes. I wash it a lot, and it's usually really soft. It's also thin, but I don't take advantage of that. I like it down, and it reaches my rib-cage. The last time I cut it was about a year ago, and the last time I put it in braids or a pony-tail must have been a while. My eyes are a darker brown than my hair. When I was little, I used to say I had "black" eyes. Of course, you can't have black eyes, but because they were such a dark, rich chocolate color, it was hard to tell the difference. My eyes are squinty. I have long eyelashes and thin, arching eyebrows.

Small ears, small nose, and a small mouth. Sometimes I feel like a mouse. All of them work, though. I can ear, smell, and talk. My ears are also kind of pointy at the top, but because of that, I usually tuck them behind my hair. I think my nose is pretty cute, because it's not too pointy nor bulbous, it's just right. To me, my mouth is really small, but I don't care. My lips usually get chapped during the winter. My teeth are all pretty nice, but I had a few cavities.

I have long, skinny arms and longs. My hands are calloused from playing the guitar, and my feet are pretty rough. My fingers and toes are identical, except I was born missing my pinky toe, because they're both skinny and short.

None of this matters to me - and it shouldn't matter to anyone else - because it's what's on the inside that counts.


SWEETER THAN HEAVEN.

I'm a kind-hearted person.

I'm also small at times.

I usually like everyone, which can be a problem. It's just I think people make mistakes, everyone does, and they shouldn't be judged on one thing. Because of this, I often shy away when someone is doing something wrong to another person. I was never brave like that.

People say I laugh a lot, and I take it as a compliment. A lot of things are funny to me, things that five-year olds would find funny, and things that adults would laugh at. I like laughing, it feels good, especially when you're laugh goes silent and you can't breathe, because even though you feel like you're going to pee your pants, it's hilarious.

In school, I think people tease me because I'm gay and I have gay parents, but I'm not gay. I don't only like girls. I don't only like guys. Actually, the gender doesn't even matter, it's their personality that does. I'm sure my gay parents did correlate with this, but I don't mind. Any person that likes another person for their looks is shallow and cruel.


HOTTER THAN HELL.

The parents I have now aren't my biological ones. See, my dad tells me how they couldn't afford me, I was an accident child. Except, you know, they never mention the last part. Anyways, they were in a financial crisis, and they weren't about to raise a kid with not enough money, so they put me up for adoption. Not shortly after, my parents adopted me. Because my biological parent's last name is Millan and my adopted parent's last names is Paterson, and my adopted parents chose me and my real parents didn't, I chose to go with the adoption name. So, by the time I was about one, I was finally under the custody of Dylan and Alexander Paterson. Yep, they're both guys; I have two dads.

You'd be surprised, because most people expect I get teased a lot because of my parental situation, but really, no one bothers making remarks. I'm sure people make jokes behind my back, like how a gay girl has gay parents, but I shake the taunts off. See, most of my closer friends that regularly come over to my house are used to it already, and they don't mind. But, there are obviously the homophobes out there, but I don't really associate much with those people. Not that one trait of theirs can determine their whole personel, but it's just I never got why someone cared so much about who people like. Another thing about my dads, it's pretty obvious to tell which one's the girl and which one's the guy in the relationship. Dylan is more masculine; with a strong build, deep voice and athletic talents. I know what you might be thinking, how those are all stereotypes. Well you're right. But it's also true. Alex(ander) is more feminine; very lanky, has a higher voice, and does more of the house work. It's pretty obvious which one of them is which.

Growing up I had a trampoline and a dog. Okay, I know that you might think those two don't belong in the same paragraph, but they do. See, we had the dog before I could remember, I think I was around three. Her name was Brooklyn. She was a yellow labrador, and she was the sweetest thing. I could talk to her and tell her everything, and I know she was listening because her ears would perk up. The only time I ever disliked the dog is when I would walk in my backyard, trying to get to my trampoline, and step in some of his crap. See, it's not that we didn't pick up her poop, but we didn't do it everyday. It was aggravating to know that if I looked down, I could just avoid the crap, but it's a habit of mine to look forward, to keep going forward. But, when I finally got to my trampoline, I would stay there for hours. I taught myself to flip, to do backflips, and 180-flips, and a front handspring, and a back-handspring, and to get really high. Before music, the trampoline was my escape from minor problems. And I'll admit as I got older, I started to neglect Molly, and the trampoline.

But when I turned eleven, and Molly died, I regretted it.

She just died all of a sudden. It was a heart-attack. I didn't even know dogs could have those, but Molly did. And I cried. I cried for about a hour with my dads holding me, saying it'll be all right, that we can get a new dog. I didn't want a new dog, and neither did they, so we never actually got a Molly 2.0, but I'm just mad that for a year or two, I didn't play with her, I just jumped on the old trampoline with the springs falling off while watching Molly sulk around the yard with a stick in her hand. But, to make up for it, I haven't jumped on my trampoline since.

In school, I was never exactly smart. I never knew when the commas were supposed to go, I never understand what exponents did (if it was the base number times the exponent or the base times itself that many times) but I could do two things. I could write poetry. I knew what words rhymed, even if I couldn't spell them. Also, I did well in music. I could tell one pitch from another, I can tell how long you're supposed to hold out certain notes, and it was easy. On my thirteenth birthday, I asked for a guitar and a teacher. I got an old guitar, the wood all scratched up, but wood nonetheless. The teacher ended up being a book titled Learn Guitar in Three Months. It was better than nothing. Any time I had the chance, I would play my guitar and learn chords, and after six months (not three) I was writing my own songs.

My dads both had good jobs, but I was never payed money for any chores - half because I never did any and half because well... I never did any. Anyways, I had this genius idea. I ran it passed my dads to see if they agreed with it. I mean, I was fourteen, so I would be fine. And they believed that to be the truth. So, when spring came, and it was warm again, I would go on the streets and then preform. I didn't make that much money at first, five dollars was pretty lucky for me. But as I sang better and got better at guitar, my income increased. I always made sure to pack up before it got dark, so I could get home safely. And I always did.

My life hasn't really changed since.

LOUDER AND LOUDER.

Face Claim: Nanna Bryndís Hilmarsdóttir
Theme Song: Florence + The Machine - Drumming Song
Narration: B7A283
Speaking: 688686
Thinking: C74C4E
Other Speaking: B7A283
Other: DB7A5A
Graphic Credit to South
Odair