Hanna Ellis, District Three [[WIP]]

Hanna Ellis.



DOING [DBBDB5] SAYING [AD85A5] HEARING [DBBDD5]

GENERAL.
When you try your best, but you don't succeed.

My name is Hanna Ellis, spelled without a 'H' at the end. I'm fifteen years old, have been since January, and I was born in the year of the forty-ninth Hunger Games. I'm female, if you couldn't already tell, and I'm heterosexual. Maybe that's the wrong word. I don't really know my sexuality. What I do know is that appearance honestly doesn't matter in the slightest, and that I've only ever developed romantic interests in males. Maybe I'm pansexual, I just haven't found a girl I like yet. Or maybe there isn't a label for me. That's okay too - I don't want to be stuck under another label for the rest of my life, anyway.

I'm from District Three, where I'm going to be for the rest of my life, which is sort of a scary thought. I can never leave the boundaries, unless I head off to the Hunger Games or become an avox. I've considered volunteering before. Not because I think I stand a chance, no, if I'm not the first one dead it'll be a miracle. It's mostly because when I die I will have done something, then. I will be known all over Panem, even if it is just for a week or two. Who knows, maybe I'll volunteer when I'm eighteen.

As for becoming an avox - well, that is probably the worst thing that could happen to me, really. I wouldn't be able to communicate at all, then. And how would I get someone's attention? Then again, they'd probably just kill me instead of making me an avox. I would be terrible as a slave.

APPEARANCE.
When you get what you want, but not what you need.

I don't know what I look like. I never have known what I look like, and I never will know what I look like. Everyone tells me I'm beautiful, especially my Dad, but then they could always be lying, trying to make me feel happy about my appearance. It doesn't matter if they call me beautiful anyway, because how am I supposed to know what beautiful looks like? I don't know what anything looks like.

I can list off what I look like, easy. My sister Lavender tells me what things look like sometimes, just before bed, and I love to hear what I look like. I have brown hair that is naturally straight apart from a wave here and there, and falls down to my chest, except on reaping day when Mama curls it for me. I don't know what brown looks like, of course, but its the color of the trees and the dirt and the bread. Lavender told me that it's impossible to describe colors - like describing a sound to someone who's deaf. You can say words, but at the end of the day they're completely meaningless.

I'm taller than Lavender, but I'm still probably average height for my age - she's just short. I'm 5'7, and I'm not stick thin slim, like the people from the lower Districts, but I am fairly slim. I'm pale, and burn easily. My eyes are brown too, like my hair, but they're a darker brown. They also don't work, of course, never have, but they're still there, looking like anyone else's normal, working eyes.

I apparently have a very innocent face. I asked Lavender how something can look innocent, but she said it was hard to explain. Something to do with rosy cheeks and dimples, but that still doesn't explain 'innocence'. Maybe she's suggesting I look like a toddler. I have a round face, which apparently 'could have something to do with it, I'm not sure.' Very helpful, Lavender, thanks.

PERSONALITY.
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep.

I'm a nice girl, helpful, put others first, that kind of thing. That's kind of what I'm known for, being nice - well, apart from being blind, of course, but I'm getting off track. I put others first, generally, specifically the helpless - children, elderly, animals, disabled. I have a gentle nature and a gentle touch - the complete opposite of what is needed for the Hunger Games. Not that it would be much of a loss if I did go in. My speech is gentle, too - I'm always careful that I don't say the wrong thing, or insult someone. The only person I can be myself around one hundred percent is Lavender.

Of course, one of the many downsides to being blind is that I can't read people's expressions, which means I can often accidentally be insensitive to other's feelings. It also means that everyone talks down on me because, of course, being blind is a disability, so I obviously need someone by my side twenty-four seven. My mother is usually the culprit of that one - she seems to think that just because I can't see, I must be an idiot or something. My dad is always going on about how "She's just looking out for you," but it's still annoying.

I sometimes wonder if everyone would be better off without me. I mean, at first they'd be really upset of course, but in the long run, if I were to drop dead right now, would they be relieved? Secretly, of course, they probably wouldn't even tell each other. But Mum could stop worrying every time I left the house, she would have one less mouth to feed. Dad might be able to get a promotion with all the stress off of his shoulder. And Lavender? Well, she'd be awful for a while, but eventually she would move on, get a family and become successful, because she will be, I can tell. And having to look after me is just holding her back.

Or maybe these are just the excuses I tell myself so that if I did decide to kill myself - or rather, volunteer for the Games, but same difference - that I wouldn't feel so bad. People always say it's selfish, and maybe it is. But I won't care after I'm gone, will I?

I'm loyal, and I trust easily, probably because I have to. It's kind of hard to see who's a friend and who isn't when you can't see in the first place. I'm smart, though, I make calculations, tactics and plans in minutes, and what I lack in brawn, I make up in brains.

I am an optimist, most of the time, yet I'm also sensitive. If I get upset I will get quiet, unless I'm very upset, in which case I will scream as loud as I can. I hate crowds. They're stressful, as I have claustrophobia, but mostly because of all the noise. As much as noise helps me to get around, too much drives me insane. There are too many sounds to focus on, thing to take in.

HISTORY
Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones.

OTHER
And I will try to fix you.

The codeword is <img src="http://i41.tinypic.com/16h2ibt.png">, the face claim is Chachi Ganzales, and the song is Fix You - Coldplay.