CRESTA HART | D12 | WIP

NAME: Cresta Hart
AGE: Fifteen
GENDER: Female
DISTRICT: Twelve

The coal mines have failed me.

The coal mines have failed to paint me the way they've painted everyone else, with charcoal hair and soot skin, and I'm perfectly okay with this. While denizens walk with their heads hanging, pails of to-be-boiled water spilling out from the sides in their hands, I weave through alley ways with rawboned fingers and limber legs. And with these thin fingers and long legs are quick feet and shifty vision. It's always been this way. I use these features to hold hands with power, to nearly touch lips with disaster. This is my addiction.

As a child, death kissed my hand. My eyes stood open wide as I stared at him like a deer in headlights. His lips were icy and white; my hands were no bigger than rocks, and my breath was lost somewhere inside my mother. I guess he saw some spark in me, some fiery coal within me, for he descended up and I began to wail as every infant does. Even then, I did not look like a District 12 citizen.

A skip of a few years and little waves of red began to sprout from my waxy scalp. They begin to grow until my hair was thick like the airs of District 3. In fact, my bodily eventually became wholly covered in a tint of red. The freckles on my arms acted as firespots