oriana | d8 | FIN

She's got a face like a friend. It's thin and has been splattered with a very kind helping of freckles which sit on the point of her cheekbones. Her eyes are a dirty blue which look like an ocean littered with a spilt rig of oil. But, the white of her eye is clean, pure and innocent. It cleanses you of all prejudgements you had already made of her - forcing you to turn over a new leaf and look at the girl in a new light.

So, you naturally scan over her once more; this time taking in the brightness of her skin and the vibrance of her orange hair. It's long and is painted with soft waves which moves slowly down her locks to her shoulders where the hair meets an abrupt end. Your eyes follow the curves of her body and you take a mental note of her size and shape. Scarily thin, average height - long legs. You look at her, and then back to you and think there isn't much difference. She could be the 'girl next door'.

She's intelligent. In elementary school, middle school and high school, she excelled amongst her peers, rising above them in almost everything she did. She doesn't know where her natural talent for academic subjects came from, although she is convinced it is from her mother. In reality, she's wrong. She looks past the reading of encyclopaedias when she was 10 and being enthused with nature aged 14. To her, her knowledge is inherited, but she doesn't know how wrong she truly is.

But there's a much darker side to her. Struggling to have the upper hand and voice her opinions. She's always been very vocal and has a way with words which is unique and special. In her early teens, she'd aspire to be a politician - as she was fascinated by President Snow's endless speeches of 'intelligence' and 'change'. She was inspired, and she learnt how to be persuasive and she learnt how to come across well. It all depends on how another person reads her, which is something she can't control.

There's a part of her which is black. It burns inside everyone, for some, the feeling is stronger than others. Oriana has always felt like an outcast in society due to her high level of intelligence. A target for bullies, a brain stronger than her physical abilities. You'd seen her be shunned in almost every situation she'd been a part of. That's why she taught herself how to defend herself - for better, for worse. She was sick of living in fear of what or who was around the corner. She wanted to feel free in a place she called 'home'.

Inside her though, there's a rigid coldness which can not be melted. Emotion doesn't come easy to anyone, but Oriana has always tried to show no signs of possessing any. Her mother doesn't remember the last time she had smiled, her sister doesn't remember the last time she had cried. Oriana sees herself as stone - battered and bruised by the forceful winds and vandals, but remains in her place, silent yet observant until the day she dies.

She had grown up in the heart of District Eight, surrounded by a tight group of friends and family. Being the youngest child of three, Oriana often felt pressure on her to perform well and succeed, doing better than both her older brother and sister who had been a disappointment to the family.

Her parents forced her into education early, by teaching Oriana at home. Her mother forced her to read encyclopaedias and her father encouraged extra curricular activities on the weekends. Her early life was heavy and dull, but the young girl soon adjusted to the drastic lifestyle change and began to settle with her days.

But when a tragedy struck the family like a strike of lightning, her life changed for the worse. Her father, Robert had developed a severe illness which left him in a true state. The family had guessed it was terminal and that he wouldn't have long to live, but what they didn't know was that he had had other children from a previous lady-friend before settling with Oriana's mother. This news was only revealing when the man was on his final deathbed, and the words that escaped from his lips were dry and coarse. 

But the family continued to live on. Having a part of the family dead and buried didn't phase Oriana, it fuelled her to strive for more and become more hungry for life. Death. It's a reminder that you have to live for the now. Her father's illness struck as quickly as lightning and he was dead within 48 hours. Oriana's mother continued creating lovely fabrics for the district's seamstress', and her sister kept up her voluntary work for the local elderly people. 

They fought on as if a battle had not already been lost.