Santana Blackmore (10) FIN

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[/color]Mum used to tell me that my hair was like the mane of the wild horses that roam our home. Wild, free, untamed- yet so beautiful. The dark brown strands were mixed with dirty blondes and light browns, creation a rather unique colour. I have always loved my hair, and the way it resembled such beautiful free creatures. My hair falls below my shoulders creeping down my back in a long curtain, usually it is tied back, but in a stylish way, looking good was always something that I enjoyed doing. There was not much I could to about my thin body, but my hair? Yeah I could do some stuff with that. When I was younger I used to watch how the Capitolites did their hair, used to be fascinated on the different way there hair used to stand on their head- or the colours that seemed so un-natural, but yet so beautiful. I never told anyone about these little fantasy’s scared what people would think of me.

Piercing blue eyes. Eyes that can look into the very soul. My eyes are a light blue, and they are deadly. With one look I can get men falling at my feet, begging for my attention. I like to think that I am resourceful, that I don’t use my eyes just for the sake of it, but I use them to get what I want, when I want it. For years I have been flailing around the district catching men in my the palm of my hand. Once they are caught, well it is difficult to escape. With a flutter of an eye lid they break, all self-control evaporated. They are lost, lost and I am there to guide them to steal them, to take them away. I wouldn’t say I was a slut, but a girl needed to have some fun, and when I have fun, I keep the man, saving him for when I am hungry, for when I am thirsty. I am a creature of the night, I am a creature that is fascinated by the capitol, that is in love with the wild free creatures known as the wild horses. I am a creature who steals away a man’s life, and takes it for her own.


If I take your man, you will never get him back- and that’s not because he doesn’t want to go back, that id because he will be gone. Dead. After I am finished with him, I throw him away like a piece of rubbish that is caught between my toes.


But beauty comes with a cost. When my family was killed I was struck with a permanent reminder of what happened to them. I was marked with their death; I was marked by the thing that had stolen all their lives. On my left hand is the reminder of my family, a sever burn mark, the size of an apple had made home there, covering the whole of the top of my hand. It was a rather ugly looking thing- but sometime beauty came at a cost, and this must be mine. Not everyone one is perfect- I certainly wasn’t, this scar just proved it.

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[/color]I used to have a family. A loving mother, a caring father, annoying- but adorable- younger brothers and sisters. I used to have that family that people would look at and dream they had were part of. We loved each other; we loved each other more than anything in the world. We were a family, tight as ever… But then we weren’t. Then there was no family left. I was all on my own, in this world. I was a girl who had always followed her father’s rules, who never broke her word. I was a girl who had never had any experience in the world, having been sheltered by her parents… but then they were gone, I had no choice but to fight for myself. I had no choice but to learn the ways of the world.[/i][/color] And learn I did.

When my family burned away with my house, with all my memories I had nothing left. I was just this girl who had nothing, who knew nothing, but then I met this boy. This boy who taught me all I knew. He taught me how to lure men into my trap, you see he was the reason I am the person I am today. I did what I did for him. He told me to go get him a man, I would, watching him, learn how to study the human begin. When he wanted a female, he would take me out with him, make me watch as he caught them in his web, taking them home, then discarding them. He would slice there throat open and throw them into the river nearby where they would float away. He was my new life. He was my teacher, my mentor, he taught me that studying these men and women were more than just to understand them but also to enjoy the pleasures that they bring to us.

We were the same, wanting to learn more about others, more about ourselves.[/i][/color]

But then, when I just thought life was back on track, he was caught. Peacekeepers pounced on him, taking him away from me, breaking my heart in two. He was my new family, my new way of life- and now he was gone. He was gone, leaving me alone in this world… I blamed him, for not being careful enough. I blamed him for being caught, for leaving me behind. It was his fault- he had been to sloppy, not covering his tracks properly. But deep down, deep down I knew it was partly my fault, I had not taken care of him properly- like the way he had taken care of me. I had let him go to far- I had let him drink too much, I should have discarded the boy, I should have been the one to chuck it away- not him. If it had been me we would both still be together, we would both still be roaming the district looking for our next prey. As a team, as a duo. He was in the detention centre- but for how much longer? how much longer did I have to live, hunt solo?

I will wait for him. I will wait for him to come back, I will be angry when I see him first, but then we would make up, and everything will be okay… but in the meantime I had to continue on with my life, I had to continue on with the way I was living, cause when he is free he may be a little rusty and we will be relying on me, on me to bring in the catch. We will be relying on me to discard the body.

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