Acca Marbor//District Two

I am blue-eyed, black-haired, and slim as a rake. I suppose I get the slenderness from my mother's side; she was too skinny to hold down a good quarry job without having to take weeks off for injuries. The coloring is certainly from my father. My skin does not tan, and I wear my hair long like the women of my district- at least, those who don't mine.( I tie it back or plait it when I work on the wheel or setting tiles so it doesn't get in the clay). I am very proud of my strong, skilled hands and my buff arms. I'm not muscular like my brother or father, but I am not weak. I do get winded easily running long distances, though. My mother says I am meant for the inside of a shop, not the quarry. Just like her.

I don't like flashy clothing. Normally, I wear something plain-weave that I don't mind getting dirty in the shop. My sister has learned to stop going out of her way to get me something with color in it; I won't wear it. It's too bright and it hurts my eyes. I shove myself in a dress for the Reaping once a year. I once wore a red one, and my Peacekeeper friends didn't even recognize me! Get anything pink away from me, by the way; it's revolting.

 So, I suppose you want to know me. Fine. I am Acca, plain and simple. Just Acca. Acca, not meant for the harder work. Acca, the little Marbor girl. I am proud of my work in my own small ways. I do not seek praise. It's not meant for me. It's meant for the strong ones who slit throats and carry pounds of fresh marble back to the plant for packaging. Not for the little girl at the back of the shop chipping stone leaves into some woman's vase.

Here in District Two, they don't call me anything like strong. Those who know me would call me dedicated and kind, fastidious and steady. I don't deserve any accolades. I am just glad I wasn't abandoned at the beginning.

In school, we hear all the time about the Hunger Games. Sometimes I wonder, if they said Acca Marbor on Reaping Day, how I would fare. I would probably be the lousiest Two tribute of all time. The Arena is nothing like my favorite little table with the potter's wheel. I definitely couldn't bash someone's skull in with a rock. But if I had to kill, I wouldn't hesitate. If I had to fight, I wouldn't cower. I might be the little Marbor girl the Peacekeepers come in to say hello to on their daily patrol. But I'm still from Two, and I could break your wrists.

My parents tell me they weren't even sure my mother could get pregnant at her age when she got pregnant with me. I was premature, born tiny. My Uncle Adelphus, who is easily the biggest and strongest man at the quarry, laughed and laughed when he saw me for the first time. He thought my mother had an affair, because a child that small couldn't be from my father. But I am, as is evident by my features and coloring, if not my build. I had a much older brother and sister, one of whom was on their second child by the time I came along. My brother can hold his own in the quarry. My sister lays bricks. Both jobs for people who can lift and throw and break. Not me.

I come from the incredibly ironically named Newera Town, by Newera Mines. It's been called Newera since before the Dark Days. They didn't bother to rename it afterwards. We're rich in turquoise, which we ship off to One, and marble, which we ship off to the Capitol. We also have clay and produce some of the District's finest clay works. That's my domain. When I'm not in school, I'm at the pottery wheel or painting clay tiles. My work is always done right. My proudest moment from my childhood is when I threw my first pot. My father put it in the store window and someone bought it the next day. He gave me the money for candy.
I have friends. Most of them are in training to be Peacekeepers. They keep me around as a reminder of who they're protecting in Panem. I don't mess around with the kids who are bigger than I am.