Dusty Thread(d8)

Name: Dusty Thread
Age: 17
District: 8
Gender: Girl
Appearance:

Auburn hair cascades down her shoulders in dark, wavy waterfalls until it reaches her waist. She can't remember last time her hair was cut by her mother's long, slender, graceful fingers that were so much like her own after the scissors broke and she was unable to by knew ones or steal some from the factory where she slaves all day cutting up fabric into little squares of exact dimensions so that the Capitol can have beautiful outfits for any time of the day. Her dark green eyes, like the forest leaves that poke above the fence on the outer edge of the district, are always focused on work, always focused on trying to keep the family alive, healthy.

She stands at a small height for her age of only five feet. Dusty's body is thin, tiny even, if you were to lift up her shirt just a small bit you would see a ghastly rib cage poking out at your face along with a hollowed out stomach, and if you raised your head slightly you would she her face where you can see every bone jutting out like rocks from lack of food. If you continued to inspect her face you would also notice her dark, thick eyebrows that make it seem as if she always angry with the world and make her seem quite intimidating paired with the unhappy creases in her face and the set frown that is always placed upon the hard features.

Personality:

It was never enough for her. The life in district eight was minuscule and she always wanted more. She wanted to be the best in the world, in her dreams she would fly high, becoming the president of Panam, a famous singer maybe, or sometimes even a movie star surrounded by the flashing lights of cameras from adoring fans. She always wanted more for her and her mother, she never thought she deserved this kind of awful life and neither did her mother. All she wanted to do was to make her mother happy and proud of her, but neither could be achieved in this slum of a district. Dusty is never really happy at all, her face set into a permanent frown because of all the thoughts in her head of what she could be, and of what she really is.

Despite always wanting more for herself and her mom, she is actually quite kind. Because of always being unhappy, she wants to make others feel happy. When she was in school she would always be the one helping out the bullied kid, making sure that they were ok. When she was at work she covered for the other workers that were out with some malady of one or another when the boss was in one of his angry tempers.

I feel sometimes as if I am just a little girl with big, unachievable dreams, anx maybe I am, but if I am I don't let myself see it. I let my visions of greatness surround me and fill me up, everything will get better eventually. All my kindness and hardships will pay off eventually. My optimism for better times will be worth it soon, I just know it. The cameras and magazine covers are just over the horizon.

History:

It was always just me and my mother. I never knew my father, but my mother said he was an honorable man. I don't believe her. That's what all parents tell their children to makr them feel good about themselves. My mother's house burned down and she was sent out on the dirty streets of eight and I'm pretth sure to survive she was payed by whoever my father was to...m well you get the gist. There are so many horrid people in district eight I wouldn't be surprised if that happened. I was born on the street, in a dark ally and grew up with barely anything to live off of.

My mother was always full of hope though, which I supposed filled me with hope two and influenced my dreams of becoming famous. One day when I was little though, I'm not sure exactly when it happened. Maybe after one more slam of a door in the face of a mother and her starving child, but one night I saw a change in her eyes, as if something had broken, and I now know that her hppe and been broken down and dismantled like the few expensive machines here replaced by starving workers.

Eventually we were taken in by a kindly old lady who I've taken to calling "grandma." I think she likes the name. Apparently her daughter and granddaughter died in a fire and she said we reminded her of them. She welcomed us with open arms, but I still work my hardest to keep grandma happy along with my mother and me. Despite the hardships I have been through in my life I still continue along, letting my dreams lift me up and carry me to my place of happiness, my imagination, where I see what I know is just around the corner.