Dahlia Dewdrop, District 7

Though I don't realize it I'm quite beautiful. My name is Dahlia Ash. I have dark black hair, blue eyes, and pale skin. I am typically covered in dirt or sweat from the hard work of my job at the lumber mill. From the time since I started working at seven years old to now, I have acquired a slight build of muscle, but I am rather small for my age. I think my lack of strength and height has been the cause of the bullying at school. I typically wear simple work clothes; a black shirt under a jacket, dirty jeans, boots, and the most expensive thing I own which is my mother’s faux silver necklace shaped like a tree. I try to keep myself as clean as possible when not at work, but the time between work and free time has become short. I also wear a satchel constantly for work and then never take it off after. I like to run in the forest whenever I get the chance, and I think I run fast. Once I saved a man from being crushed by a falling tree by shoving him aside. It took me running at full speed and putting my entire strength into him to move him two feet, but I'd like to think if I was too muscular I wouldn't have been able to run so fast over to him.

I try to treat everyone with respect, but I know I can be tough to get along with at times. All through my childhood I was bullied for being an underdog, but in recent years I haven't allowed myself to be treated that way by anyone. After the wildfire that killed most of my family and my grandfather became the dictator of my life, I haven't become close to anyone. I pushed away everyone somewhat close to me for their own sakes, I knew that with my life under lock and key I couldn't bring down those I cared about with me. I care for everyone, even those who hurt me before. I believe all human life is precious, but this may be because my life ended with my family's. The only good relationship I keep is with my twin brother, Aster, but he's been in a coma for three years. Aster was my partner in everything, there wasn't anything I kept from him. He was always the brawn of the duo, what I lacked he made up for and vice versa. After his injury I haven't been the same.



I feel because of the situation with my grandfather it's hard to earn my trust, but once trust is earned, it's hard to lose. Aster was always good at making friends, but I've always taken the time to get to know someone before I put my entire trust in them. I feel I was too eager to let myself be berated by everyone I've ever known so I decided to make a change. I made the decision to stop letting people hurt me. Though that may just be from the guilt of what happened to Aster. Although food has always been hard to come by I try and help the people who can't feed themselves. Twice a week I take whatever food I can sneak without my grandfather realizing to an old woman named Alma. She utterly hates me, but that doesn't stop her from taking the food for her grandchildren. I keep a small garden in the forest along the border fence where I grow some vegetables. It's all a trial and error system since I have no experience growing food before, but I figured it was like trees; if they have water and sunlight, they'll grow. All the food I grow goes to the people in the Slums of the district. I couldn't live with myself if I brought them home for my grandfather to hoard. Hunting is strictly enforced and anyone caught with animals will be arrested. Though I know of a few people who regularly sell squirrels and other game who I've bought from in dire times of the winter. I've never been brave enough to break that rule though.



I have a lot of experience with tools and blades from my work at the mills. In District 7, children start working at an early age and I remember learning how to throw an axe from my mother. Aster and I would have contests to see who was the most accurate, but that was years ago. Aster always won anyway. I love the feeling I get when I split a log with an axe. The freedom of the forest is great and every chance I get, I'm in the forest chopping wood. That's the excuse I use to get away from home anyway. I try and keep to myself as much as possible when outside of work, but time in and out of work is getting shorter. Despite the general public's opinion, I respect the Capitol. They managed to bring order. Although I disagree with their methods, they are rather efficient in keeping the districts in line. I feel there's too much violence in the world, and I hope one day we'll be free.

My life fell apart five years ago, when I was twelve. During the dry season of summer, a fire started by unknown causes. It quickly spread into town, leaving a blackened scar of ruined buildings. The flames reached our home while we were at the market, caught in the crowds. My mother and father died trying to rescue my grandmother from the blaze of our home. Aster and I tried to run after them, but my grandfather held us back. We stood in a row of three and watched as our home collapsed. After their deaths and the district spent hundreds of dollars on repairs, two children and an old man were overlooked when they passed out emergency rations. We spent a year starving in the streets before we made enough for a new home. We probably could have been a home earlier than that, but my grandfather's drinking claimed whatever money we had leftover. Aster's attack happened a year after our lives were somewhat stable. We were on our way back from work when three older boys tried to take the money we'd just received from work. I was shoved to the ground, while Aster knocked two out. The third caught him from behind and shoved him into the side of a log pile. I remember the blood. I saw that so prominently through my tears. Peacekeepers arrived to find me over his body. The other three took off; they later accused Aster of trying to rob them, and who wouldn't believe them? We were one of the poorest families in the whole district. Ever since, I haven't been the same.



I take care of Aster at home. He keeps one of the two beds in the house. I sleep on the floor beside him. I keep a pot of the flowers I was named after; blue dahlias or lady blues. My mother chose our names when my grandmother knitted a beautiful scarf with the flowers covering it. My mother and I were close. At our old home she kept a garden behind the house. We'd spend hours weeding and talking about this or that. That little girl is gone now. I like to think that if things were different I'd still end up as strong as I am now. I'm haunted by my lack of action every day when I look at Aster. He was supposed to be the guardian, now I'm the only thing keeping him alive. My grandfather has threatened a few times to suffocate him in his sleep, but that stopped when I threw the knife I was cutting bread with an inch away from his head. It stuck to the wall with a twang. He punched me in the face so hard my eye swelled shut. His alcoholism is going to end up with one of us dead, and it won't be me. I've been trying to save enough money so that when I turn eighteen I can take Aster and go, but so far I've ended up giving any extra away to whoever needs it. Maybe I can just hope my grandfather will end up dying, but that's a horrible way for me to think. Nothing good comes from the loss of life.



Every year I force myself to watch the Games. Every year I watch as someone marches up that podium and goes off to fight against kids younger than me. Sometimes I have nightmares that my name is chosen. I walk slowly and carefully to the stage, all eyes on me. I try to scream, but my voice is broken. Suddenly I'm on my podium and a cannon sounds. I'm running towards the Cornucopia when a thud hits my chest. I look down and see an axe handle sticking out of my chest. Everything is quiet. Then above me I can see him blocking the light. Aster stands over me, smiling. Then I wake up screaming. I felt the terror of the Games without even being there. That's how the Capitol keeps the Districts in line. Through the fear. So many deaths. Life is precious and fragile. I hope that if during the Reaping I'm ever chosen, nobody would volunteer their life for mine. Hope can cloud one's judgment when they don't realize what their wishing away though. If I was to die, all I wish is that Aster is taken care of.

My grandfather's name is Malcolm Dewdrop, he is the only reason I'm as strong as I am. He allowed my parents to move in with them when my mother was first said to be pregnant because he knew money would be hard to come by. He was just as distraught by the death of our family as I was, but he drowned his sorrows with every penny we had. We fight often and always find ourselves sitting across from each other in silence afterwards. I don't hate him. I want to make that clear. He may be the reason we nearly starved to death and have no money, but he still is my grandfather. Like I say and strongly believe, I love everyone and everything. Even my grandfather, and even the boys who attacked Aster. There are no evil people, but there are evil ideals.