cyros {twelve} fin
Nov 26, 2016 14:32:43 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Nov 26, 2016 14:32:43 GMT -5
My face. Not something that i'm particularly fond about.
Full of disappointments that make me wish I was never born.
My jet-black hair, that falls in front of my face, the long
eyelashes that flutter when I blink my eyes. My pure blue eyes
that people compliment me about every moment of every day.
The freckles that dot my skin. The beauty mark that rests
under my left eye. It all disappoints me. Its hard for me to
like anything about my appearance.
My skin, as pale as winter, as dead as my parents ghost.
My arms, weak from the lack of work since my parents died.
My legs, no muscle on them, skin to the bone, you can faintly
see the bone when you look at them. My fingernails, rough
since I chew on them, red after I bit and bit on them after
they went numb. I weigh as bout as much as a 11 year old
capitol child who can eat everything they want. So around 112
pounds. I'm not that tall, not that I want to be, 5'6 is my
height, and I wish I was taller sometimes, other
times I wish I was as small as a fly.
ϟ
I'm not social at all, I don't talk so you
could consider myself as mute. Talking is not
what I want to do in life. What I want to do in life is die.
Like my parents. I was social, and happy when they were around,
but when they died, I fell into depression. I did not come out of it.
Death clouded my thoughts, darkness took over my personality. Its
like I was dead, I didn't feel anything except sadness. No love, anger,
or happiness was existent in my body.
Sadness took over me, death, suicide struck my mind every day.
Sometimes I would attempt it, sometimes I would push it out and
try to think of another way to get to my parents, without killing
myself, and probably making them hate me once I make it into the
afterlife. The Hunger Games was my really only option. Every year I
hoped to get picked, and get back to my parents.
Personality was existent in my body, but it was quickly fading.
When I wasn't in depression, many people called me compassionate,
eccentric, and amiable. Now the only things people called me were
loner, Discouraged, or Gloomy. I hated when people came near me,
I was discouraged at my lifestyle, knowing that i went wrong,
somewhere in my plans to make it to the afterlife. Gloomy.
The most obvious one. My parents are dead, the only living relatives
I have is my little sister, and my aunt. My little sister fell into
hysterics. My aunt is like my mother, but she isn't my mother,
so she wont be able to make me, me again.
ϟ
Being born to my parents, was the best thing that happened
to me. We were poor from the start, but my parents did everything
they could to keep us from dying. My mother worked and worked,
and my father spent days away from home trying to keep the family
alive for another year.
4, a young age. My sister was 2, and I was 4. So that of course
means I'm in charge of her. I made her give me her things, when
I felt like it, and I practically made her my servant, since she believed
the crap I told her. At 18 years old, I see my 2 years old sister quite gullible,
and thats not a trait you really want in life.
8, I loved that year. It was one of the best years of my life.
Me, my sister, and my parents spent way much time together.
I got to know them. My sister, old enough to talk, was actually very
smart. She was really smart. It scared me. My parents, I learned
were very, very loving people when they told me stories about the
hardships they grew up with. I loved those stories, because It made
me want to accomplish something as amazing as they had when they
were still kids.
10, I was still young at that age. Not knowing any better for anything.
I found matches in the cupboard, when I was climbing the cabinets
to pretend I was a bird. I got a match, then found a rough spot on the
box, so I moved the top of the match on the rough area, than moved my hand
fast, sparking the match, and I dropped the match n the floor, and
went outside to play. I returned one hour later to find the house burned to
the ground, and the corpses of my mother and father. My sister lay
crying beside them.
12, my parents died 2 years ago. My sister went into hysterics upon
our parents death. She was kept mostly in her room, it was hard to sleep
when you could here the constant crying next door. I knew how she felt, but
I would rather greive, and cry internally than let my weaknesses show. Even though
they died almost two years ago, we were still mourning. My sister needed help. I
needed my parents. At that age is when the ideas of suicide and the hunger games
came into play.
14, suicide became a common thought at this age. Many times
attempted, no times succeded. I always got chaught my my aunt
or I just couldn't do it. Scars also became common at this age. I
cut my wrists at that age a lot. Many pink scars still littered my arms
to this day. 16, The Hunger Games thoughts became more common
than the suicide thoughts at this age. I replayed reapings in my
head where I get picked and die, or I get picked and I win.
They just fed my desire to die, and go find my parents in the
after life.
18, suicide and hunger games still littered my mind.
Not many suicide attempts came into play, but still many
reapings get replayed in my mind. Blood and death was
constant on my mind. Murder came into play, tried to kill my
aunt, but I couldn't go through, cause It felt like I was killing my mother,
and I could never do that in any universe.
ϟ
Name: Cryos Lung
Age: Eighteen
Gender: Female
District: Twelve
Theme Song: I Will Follow You Into The Dark by Death Cab For Cutie
Face Claim: Acacia Brinley
Words: 1089 Words
Full of disappointments that make me wish I was never born.
My jet-black hair, that falls in front of my face, the long
eyelashes that flutter when I blink my eyes. My pure blue eyes
that people compliment me about every moment of every day.
The freckles that dot my skin. The beauty mark that rests
under my left eye. It all disappoints me. Its hard for me to
like anything about my appearance.
My skin, as pale as winter, as dead as my parents ghost.
My arms, weak from the lack of work since my parents died.
My legs, no muscle on them, skin to the bone, you can faintly
see the bone when you look at them. My fingernails, rough
since I chew on them, red after I bit and bit on them after
they went numb. I weigh as bout as much as a 11 year old
capitol child who can eat everything they want. So around 112
pounds. I'm not that tall, not that I want to be, 5'6 is my
height, and I wish I was taller sometimes, other
times I wish I was as small as a fly.
ϟ
I'm not social at all, I don't talk so you
could consider myself as mute. Talking is not
what I want to do in life. What I want to do in life is die.
Like my parents. I was social, and happy when they were around,
but when they died, I fell into depression. I did not come out of it.
Death clouded my thoughts, darkness took over my personality. Its
like I was dead, I didn't feel anything except sadness. No love, anger,
or happiness was existent in my body.
Sadness took over me, death, suicide struck my mind every day.
Sometimes I would attempt it, sometimes I would push it out and
try to think of another way to get to my parents, without killing
myself, and probably making them hate me once I make it into the
afterlife. The Hunger Games was my really only option. Every year I
hoped to get picked, and get back to my parents.
Personality was existent in my body, but it was quickly fading.
When I wasn't in depression, many people called me compassionate,
eccentric, and amiable. Now the only things people called me were
loner, Discouraged, or Gloomy. I hated when people came near me,
I was discouraged at my lifestyle, knowing that i went wrong,
somewhere in my plans to make it to the afterlife. Gloomy.
The most obvious one. My parents are dead, the only living relatives
I have is my little sister, and my aunt. My little sister fell into
hysterics. My aunt is like my mother, but she isn't my mother,
so she wont be able to make me, me again.
ϟ
Being born to my parents, was the best thing that happened
to me. We were poor from the start, but my parents did everything
they could to keep us from dying. My mother worked and worked,
and my father spent days away from home trying to keep the family
alive for another year.
4, a young age. My sister was 2, and I was 4. So that of course
means I'm in charge of her. I made her give me her things, when
I felt like it, and I practically made her my servant, since she believed
the crap I told her. At 18 years old, I see my 2 years old sister quite gullible,
and thats not a trait you really want in life.
8, I loved that year. It was one of the best years of my life.
Me, my sister, and my parents spent way much time together.
I got to know them. My sister, old enough to talk, was actually very
smart. She was really smart. It scared me. My parents, I learned
were very, very loving people when they told me stories about the
hardships they grew up with. I loved those stories, because It made
me want to accomplish something as amazing as they had when they
were still kids.
10, I was still young at that age. Not knowing any better for anything.
I found matches in the cupboard, when I was climbing the cabinets
to pretend I was a bird. I got a match, then found a rough spot on the
box, so I moved the top of the match on the rough area, than moved my hand
fast, sparking the match, and I dropped the match n the floor, and
went outside to play. I returned one hour later to find the house burned to
the ground, and the corpses of my mother and father. My sister lay
crying beside them.
12, my parents died 2 years ago. My sister went into hysterics upon
our parents death. She was kept mostly in her room, it was hard to sleep
when you could here the constant crying next door. I knew how she felt, but
I would rather greive, and cry internally than let my weaknesses show. Even though
they died almost two years ago, we were still mourning. My sister needed help. I
needed my parents. At that age is when the ideas of suicide and the hunger games
came into play.
14, suicide became a common thought at this age. Many times
attempted, no times succeded. I always got chaught my my aunt
or I just couldn't do it. Scars also became common at this age. I
cut my wrists at that age a lot. Many pink scars still littered my arms
to this day. 16, The Hunger Games thoughts became more common
than the suicide thoughts at this age. I replayed reapings in my
head where I get picked and die, or I get picked and I win.
They just fed my desire to die, and go find my parents in the
after life.
18, suicide and hunger games still littered my mind.
Not many suicide attempts came into play, but still many
reapings get replayed in my mind. Blood and death was
constant on my mind. Murder came into play, tried to kill my
aunt, but I couldn't go through, cause It felt like I was killing my mother,
and I could never do that in any universe.
ϟ
Name: Cryos Lung
Age: Eighteen
Gender: Female
District: Twelve
Theme Song: I Will Follow You Into The Dark by Death Cab For Cutie
Face Claim: Acacia Brinley
Words: 1089 Words
