Pearce | District 7 | Fin

Name: Pearce Stirling
Age: 12
Gender: Female
District/Area: 7
Appearance:

Pearce is a tall kid, about 160cm (5'2") with an unhealthy obsession with leather. She has medium-length spiky black hair. She has sea green eyes, along with pale features and skin. In her hair she has a black bandana patterned with leaves, from her district. She has a side fringe and her face is almost always covered in streaks of dirt from trekking through the forest.

Her clothes consist of black leather. Her shirt is a long tank top, sleeves cut short by branches. She has a spiked neck collar, given to her by her brother, and wears a belt for her axe with black and white patterned pants. She wears hand-stitched gloves, spiked handcuffs and mismatched black leather boots, one being up to the top of her thigh and the other being up to her ankle.

However, like any other person, she has some flaws. First off, she's a bit too skinny for anyone's liking. This makes her weaker, and so she eats whenever she can. She doesn't hunt because her brother taught her long ago that if you killed animals in the forest, you would most likely be killed yourself, either by Peacekeepers or animals themselves. 

Personality:

Pearce is a hardcore, zero-fucks given kind of person. She dislikes people, communication, her life and the world, instead preferring to keep to the forest, and the trees. Her whole family consists of three goody-two-shoe sisters, a brother that tolerated Pearce but ceased to exist, a mom that hates Pearce, and a dad that never existed. Her whole life was centered around her brother's death, caused by a falling tree. She bluntly refuses everyone and yells at them to back off. Her mother hits her repeatedly if she sees Pearce and so the 12 year old spends most of her days in the forest.

She has a habit of hitting people over the head if they become really annoying, just to shut them up. Her tolerance for idiots has run short, and so she just hits them. Her sense of humour consists of one sarcastic joke; 'hey, wanna see an impression of my dad?' and then she runs off and laughs. Her sentences and short and blunt, but she dislikes communication, as I said before, and so it is actually quite rare to see her talk. Instead she'd probably shrug and nod.

History:

Pearce grew up with three amazingly smart, charming, beautiful, perfect sisters (Lily, Scarlett and Ariana); a handsome, carefree, delightful brother and a harsh, misgiving, strict mother named Kate. Her father, Donald, died before she was born, killed by a falling tree which was presumably brought down by Peacekeepers who disliked him. Her brother, Peter, was always so understanding, tolerating her angry outbreaks at their mother, and holding her in his arms until she calmed down. Until he, too, died, with one too many whips to the back and breaking his neck. Pearce held him and wept until she fell asleep, which was when her mother did the one nice thing she had ever done to Pearce - carry her to her bed. Pearce's sisters are also kind to her, but they are terrified of their mother and so they talk to her less and less. Her mother also has just born a new daughter named Willow, whom Pearce immediately took under her wing after being born with black hair like her. 

Growing up, Pearce barely knew how to be 'tender' and 'kind' and 'loving' and things like that. Only her brother could show her how to do that, and now he's gone. However, she is beautifully maternal when she is with Willow, and loves her with all her heart. She is determined to make Willow's childhood better than her own, and to get her to like heavy music, not just her lullabies. Due to her mother, she is very courageous and can stand up to almost anything, apart from the reaping, which she has tried to avoid once. After all, she only has ever been to one. And then the Peacekeepers whipped her three times before bringing her to the front and adding her name in the bowl an extra ten times. Luckily, she wasn't picked. The Peacekeepers in District 7 hate Pearce with a passion, apart from a young one named Luke who is about 18.

"get out. get out of my house. you worthless little piece of crap, get out, now! i wish you were never born! you f-" i slam the door on my mother's voice. it's not worth listening to, anyway. my feet move of their own accord, walking to the forest. my mind is blank, as it is when she turns on me. i remember it all much too clearly. 

i had just gotten home from a hard day of work in the forest with my classmates, and i still had dirt and grime across my face. i cross the threshold and am greeted by my brother, peter, who immediately takes off my coat and hugs me. i hug him back, my face breaking into a grin. he just has that effect on people. my sisters are behind me, giggling about boys and clothes and whatever they talk about. they glare at me and stalk off down the hall, and i raise my middle finger to them haughtily. it's the worst mistake i've ever made. my mother sees me, and the smile she had on is immediately exchanged with a scowl, and she backhands me so hard i stumble against the door. then the words. i block those out. turning around, i roughly push peter away and grab my coat, bringing it up to my face. i turn around, raise my middle finger to my mother once more, before a huge round of exploding insults and pain is ripped through my barrier. i yell a cuss words and pure pain at the lady before turning around and slamming the door angrily.

and now look where you are, i think grimly, before getting to the forest edge. there's no fence here anymore, the protesters brought it down years ago. it's when i get to my usual place when i crack. the tears are streaming down my face, and i'm gasping for breath. i can't breathe. i can't breathe. i can't breathe. i think i'm going to die when a hand places itself firmly on my shoulder and lifts me to my feet. peter. his breath is on my face as i sob into his shoulder, crying out all my anger and fear and resentment. "i... i hate her so much, you can't even begin to imagine." i sniffle after a while, coming out of the depths of his black and blue tartan shirt. his blue eyes search my face, and his expression softens. "you know i can't leave her." he says, and i sigh and stuff my face back into his shoulder. "i know, i just wanted you to, so, so bad..." i say, before extracting myself fully out of his grasp. i lean back into a tree, closing my eyes and looking up. i wipe the tear stains away before turning to look at my brother again. he sighs and puts his coat on, then looks at me sadly. "bye, pearce." his voice is hollow and distant, and it makes my breath hitch in my throat again. "bye, peter." i whisper hoarsely. then he turns, and he's gone. i stare after him for a while, before i turn around and begin to walk. i don't know where. i just need to leave. it's then when i hear the ear-piercing shriek.

it's peter, obviously. he must've been caught coming out of the forest. "shit," i mutter, turning around and backtracking my steps, beginning to break into a sprint. i've finally made it to the edge of the forest when i hear the sound of the cracking whip. my heart is beating fast and my palms are sweaty. i manage to get to the crowd that is forming rapidly and push my way to the front. a scream rises in my throat as the head peacekeeper raises his already bloody whip. bang. it's like a chain reaction. first he stops yelling, then he goes limp. then the peacekeeper adopts a look of horror on his face, and he looks around at everyone. then i'm being pushed forward, the surging crowd around me, but it's all i can do to make it to peter's body without being trampled. eventually the crowd thins out, but i'm too in shock to even remotely care. i realize i've dropped to my knees and there are silent tears running down my face. i feel six eyes on my back and i turn around. my sisters - those stuck up bitches. i'm about to stand up and punch them when reality hits me in the face. i turn back to my brother's body and sob freely, into his shirt that i'm sure was warm with his body heat moments ago. now there's nothing. i sob into the night, and eventually fall into a fitful sleep, in which i am forced to kill everyone i care about. i take no notice of it, but i wake up a little as i feel myself being moved. in a dream-like state, i loll my head backwards to see the person who is carrying me. i'm jolted awake as i realise who it is. my mother. wasn't she yelling horrendous things and slapping me a few hours ago? but her expression is just one of pure grief, and i realise that peter wasn't just my therapist - he was also our mother's. i fall back into a dreamless sleep, finally content. well, until the next morning.