BIO RE-DO - Alexandrite Rose // D1 // FIN

I feel like I'm being fucking interviewed by Caesar Flickerman or something. Not for the hype of an upcoming Hunger Games, however, for the tributes going into the notorious annual game of death; to attempt to imprint a lasting impression, in the visual and audible caches of the Capitol and District citizens alike, for sponsors. Instead, it's more like I'm being interviewed by him for a job, without his employers being able to afford a background check on me so they make it like I'm orally applying for it while at the same time trying to prove and present myself of being worthy to work under them.

You want me to describe my looks, huh? My personality, my history? Why do you want this shit from me? It's not worth my time, it's not worth your time. Do you really want your ears to be polluted with my meaningless dribble? Don't you have anything better to do than listen to me drone on and on about my entire life story, my entire being?

...Because that doesn't seem to be the case.

...Well then...I guess I have no choice but to disclose these details to yourself. I warn you, however, that my rambling isn't to be anything of interest. It's like you're watching the slowest fucking river in the forest just trail on in its movement...or lack thereof.


Looks, looks... my skin is a rosy pale, for starters. It seems to have a knack for looking ghostly pale sometimes, though. My father pointed this out when he would annoyingly take pictures of myself at random moments. As much as I dislike the District I hail from, I like to try and keep it smooth and spotless of any imperfections with lotion and foundation. I also like to wear make-up fairly frequently, particularly red lipstick. I have pale blue eyes, and my hair is wavy and rests right around my chest. It used to be a somewhat dull auburn color, but I've recently dyed it to a more vibrant shade of red.

I'm of decent height. 5'8 and a half, if I have to be precise. I'm a slim girl, kind of ballerina frame-like. I'm not really an athletic person other than the fact that I like to run. Style-wise, I like to take advantage of the luxurious garments offered to me here in District One. The clothes I wear change with the seasons. Autumn calls for articles like boots, pleated scoop dresses with cardigans or leggings and long, cotton sweaters of warm colors...I'd use black silk gloves or hair accessories as a nice finish to the outfit. Winter sees fur coats, turtleneck dresses, stockings, fur boots, earmuffs. Spring is greeted with vibrant floral prints in crop tops and shorts or long, layered skirts with flats. Finally, summer is unfortunately dealt the short end of the fashion stick. Plain tanktops and ripped denim shorts, completed with sandals. Sometimes there's a jacket, but overall this is the season of the boring, the solid-colored, the basic-shaped of my closet.

But I like it that way.

Personality next, right? Well, first off...I fucking hate people. I hate so many of them. President Snow, the Peacekeepers, the Victors, the tributes that die in those victors' games, the Capitolites, even my own father to an extent. Corruption, brainwashing, the glossing over of this dictatorship known as the nation of Panem. I hate it. I HATE IT.

...Yet...I have no right to complain about this issue and be angry, because I myself have also contributed to this matter. I've acknowledged this bullshit, yes, but have I done anything about it?


So there you have it. I'm blunt, I'd rather deliver my words straight to the point than sugarcoat them and make people hear what they want to hear. However, I have enough common sense to know not to do that when there are conversations that pertain to matters of the Games or President Snow's rule, and his goons are around and within earshot. I'm a coward about the situation, but again refer to what I just said about knowing not to blabber any sign of rebellion and such in public. I'm brave enough to speak my mind, but not to go through with those things. I'm pretty sure this is why I walk alone, huh?

I don't really have friends. I don't bother to make any. I don't want anybody to try and get to know me either. I've been this way for a pretty long while, so why stop now? I'd rather myself and the other person not go through the trouble because this is just how I am. Maybe I'm a softer person underneath this surface of mine, but I've never had a friend and kept one long enough to discover that. I'm not even that close to my dad. Whatever, though. I've learned to live with having no company by me.

I'm fine like this.

Last but not least--history. My mom died during birth, so it's just been my dad and I. My dad's a jeweler, but he also loves doing photography because he wanted to be a Capitol journalist when he was younger. He gave up that dream for my mother, however, who loved jewelry and really wanted to get into it. They used to run the shop we own together for a few years, and gradually he went from doing it for her sake to doing it for enjoyment. When she died, he told me he almost closed the shop down out of grief, but ultimately didn't because he wanted to keep her alive through the craft.

This reason, however, is why he's been basically telling me that he's going to force me to look after it when his time comes. Have I argued with him about it? Hell yeah. Multiple times, actually. I really don't know what I want to do with my life yet, but I definitely don't want to be a jeweler. When he expects me to work, I leave and roam the streets to think about everything. My mom, my future, the shop's future, my dad, the rule we live under...

One time, during a big fight we were having about me being a jeweler or not at like past midnight or something...could no longer handle it and just left the shop thanks to the peak of my anger. When I walked out that door...I just ran. I ran through the emptiness, the darkness, the quiet...I started off with the same thoughts I would usually have when I wandered around in the day, but they all chipped away as I kept running. The wind that rushed through my skin, the stillness of the late hours, having nothing but the night sky, twinkling stars, and mercury vapor around me just...calmed me down. Relaxed me. This temporary dead universe I went through gave me peace of mind, and...once I hit it, I started walking. This time, however, none of the thoughts I would carry alongside my slow footsteps came to plague me again. In its place were my eyes looking around and myself taking in the soothing silence with pleasure. Since that night, I've been sneaking out to do this ever since. It's pretty much all I have at the moment.

And that's okay with me.