Apple Butterdean - District 8

Apple Butterdean, much to what one might believe, is not red or delicious. Nor is she a Grandma Smith or golden. However, it could be argued that she is juicy (she's got a little extra weight on her hips). But most importantly, she most certainly does not have worms in her.

She is far from a beauty, but she does maintain a quality that tells people to look at her. It might be her shrilly voice or the buzzing energy she puts off or her inward pointing feet, or it might just be that her teeth are a little too big for her mouth, but whatever it is, she's hard to miss.

Apple's hair does not hang much below her ears, with each lock sprouting from a middle part as if in attempt to reach as far away from her noggin as possible - ladies and gentlemen, it's a sight to see - and in the summertime, the sun likes to wrap its fingers around it and broadcast its red tint to all of District 8. 

Her eyes lay a little in on her face and insist on competing with everyone else by consistently being opened wider than everyone else. Sure, she doesn't get much sleep with her newly found printmaking job and an eccentric mother, but even with much rest, she always seems to be straining to keep them open. 

With a name like Apple Butterdean, a mundane personality just wouldn't fit. It was probably in her mother's intentions to produce a child with a big personality, and that's just what she got. Apple's always been the type to stick her nose in places where it shouldn't be, but has done so with the best intentions. There's just something about the concept of knowledge that latches on to her like a leech, even if she does lack a bit of common sense. 

Friendliness is also something held to a high regard in both Apple and her mother's eyes. It was an easy concept to live by - that everyone should be nice to each other. In a country that's already shitty enough, why would anyone want to be cruel? Apple's always been the type to sit by the people that are by themselves or compliment someone when their apples have spoiled. Unfortunately, it never turns out as smoothly as she would like, though, and often delivers a backhanded compliment that ends up making the recipient both uplifted and offended. 

This being said, Apple's always been the quirky outcast of her age group. Of course there's an exemption for the early years - everyone's nice then - but ever since her peers and herself had gotten bigger, the more they distanced themselves from the girl with big eyes, big teeth, a big gut, and a big personality. She's quite oblivious to most things, though, and isn't too aware that her social standing isn't as great as what she might perceive it as. This has lead to many false accusations that so-and-so are her friend, when in reality, they just felt a little bad for her so they laughed at one of her mediocre jokes. 

A bit quirky, you could say. A bit sad too. 

Apple Butterdean came out of the womb just a bit too early. Breathless, pale, bloody, and ugly - it was with little hope that her father applied little breaths into Apple's mouth in hopes of revival.

One puff. Nothing.
Two puffs.  
Three puffs.
Four puffs. 
Five puffs. Something. 

The baby began to gasp for air and eventually caught its breath. Tears streamed down her mother's face and her father, after cleaning the baby off and cutting the cord, handed the tiny creature to its mother and began to raise her. 

She was a miracle, and as most miracles go, she was meant for something. There was something about her that made her special. You couldn't see it at first, she was just another baby with a knack for crying and making nights restless for the parents, but as she became more able bodied and her eyes got wider, the more it was apparent that she was much more than another District 8 kid to be thrown to Capitol.

She was very cheery once she'd spat out her first "Ma-Ma" but her eyes got a little more baggy once there was no more "Da-Da." Of course, it's a little hard for a 5 year old to grasp onto the fact that they're no longer going to have a father, but the prospect was still there.

She began to eat her namesake at the age of 10 as a coping method. Her mom had always taken it very well, but Apple had not, and she'd found that there was something about the breaking of the apple's skin to the nectarine flavor underneath that made her feel a lot better about the situation.

Apple Butterdean was never one to show her sadness, though. It was a mantra of her mother and her to smile at least 5 times before eating, and that if they did that, it'd eventually become easier and easier to cope with.

And so they did just that. It was hard at first, to force themselves to smile, and it was crippling for Apple's mother to stay cheerful, but even harder to see such a sweet young girl crumble on the presence, or lack there of, of her father. But things got better, tremendously better, and now it's a little too difficult to smile only 5 times before eating. Thirty is much more likely.