My eyes.
My eyes are the faded gray of the Seam. Only mine are coated, distant. Their colors tend to change depending on my mood. The default, my favorite, is gray. Just plain, boring, Seam gray. When I am in distress, a glint of yellow shows beside the pupils. When I am truly happy, they turn a light, gray blue. And when I am scared, they turn a bright blue green with gray tints.

People say my eyes amaze them. Something about the emotion they show. Happiness? Bravery? What they really show is fear. Fear and despair. The healed wounds never disappear, given the real scar is how you see it. Through the eyes.

My hair.
Falling just past my shoulders in a natural wave. I have always despised my hair. Something about the color, or the length. The underside is a rich chocolate brown while the main body is a brownish gold. The tips are dirty blond. But, it also contains an orange hue. It somewhat reminds me of the woods just after summer. The beautiful green leaves changing their color; a warmer feel.

I usually braid it off to the side or tie it in a ponytail. It keeps it out of the way when I'm working or running. My mother always complains about how it looks. I don't care. She isn't any better. If fact, she's worse. I think she should look at herself before opening her dirty mouth.

My face.
I do not think I am very attractive. The only thing I really like about myself are my eyes. They are perfect distance apart. My eyebrows are medium size, brown in color. My nose is thin in width, the bridge is straight. My teacher called it a Roman nose? My lips are medium, but full. I guess I like those too. My teeth are overall straight, the canines are rather sharp though. I have a cross-bite; one top canine goes behind the bottom one, the other resides in front of the bottom. It is quite painful at times. My ears are quite small.

My stature.
I stand at a unimpressive height of 4'10" and weigh only 90 lbs. My chest is relatively larger than most girls my age. My hips are too. I have good posture and can balance myself easily. But, I am very clumsy. I can climb well but I always trip over myself.

My legs.
My legs are overall ugly. I see them as short, stubby limbs. My calves are built with muscle, making them look even bigger. My thighs are the same. I run a lot; that's the reason. I run almost everyday. Either around District 12 or down the dirt road of the Seam.

My hands and feet.
They are sadly small. I have to wear children's shoes for my feet to fit correctly. My hands are roughly four inches long and a little wider than two inches. I have no idea where I had inherited my daintiness. Certainly not from my mother. She has large hands and feet. Small chest and hips. Long skinny legs.

LIKES. Long walks. Sunsets. Guys. Privacy. Friends. Water. Fire. Rain. Woods. Nature. Children. Love. Family.
DISLIKES. Wind. Cities. Abnoxious people. Peacekeepers. Being told what to do. Having 'Leaders'. Theories or Suspicions. Ignorant or immature people. Schedules.
MAIN TRAITS.
- Keen awareness of environment
- Live in the present moment
- Enjoy a slower pace
- Dislikes dealing with theory
- Faithful and loyal to people and ideas which are important to them
- Individualistic, having no desire to lead or follow
- Take things seriously, although frequently appear not to
- Special bond with children and animals
- Quiet and reserved, except with familiar faces
- Trusting, sensitive, and kind
- Service-oriented; driven to help others
- Learn best with hands-on training
- Hate being confined to strict schedules and regimens
- Need space and freedom to do things my own way
- Dislikes mundane, routine tasks, but will perform them if necessary

I tend to be quiet and reserved, and difficult to get to know well. I hold back my ideas and opinions except from those who I trust. I consider myself kind, gentle and sensitive in dealing with others. I take great interest in contributing to people's sense of well-being and happiness, especially children. I always put a great deal of effort and energy into the things I believe in.

I am keenly in tune with the way things look, taste, sound, feel and smell. I have a strong appreciation for art, because I am unusually gifted at creating and composing things which will strongly affect the senses. I need to feel as if I am living my life in accordance with what I feel is right, and will rebel against anything which conflicts with that goal. I have no desire to lead or control others, just as I have no desire to be led or controlled by others. I need space and time alone, and I respect other people's needs for the same.

I do not give myself enough credit for the things I do extremely well. My strong value systems lead me to be intensely perfectionist, and cause myself to judge myself with unnecessary harshness. I am extremely perceptive and aware of others. I constantly gather specific information about people, and seek to discover what it means. I don't do it on purpose. I am usually scarily accurate in my perception of others.

I have a strong affinity for aesthetics and beauty. I love animals, and have a true appreciation for the beauties of nature. I have been told I am original and independent. I value people who take the time to understand me. People who don't know me well may see my unique way of life as a sign of carefree light-heartedness, but I actually take things in life very seriously, in search for clarification and the underlying meaning of it. I see life as it is, that's it. I am also known to spit out very, very wise things.

I am an action-oriented girl. I am a "do'er" and am usually uncomfortable with theorizing concepts and ideas. I learn best in a "hands-on" environment, and become easily bored with the traditional teaching methods. I do not like impersonal analysis, and am uncomfortable with the idea of making decisions based strictly on logic.

Me.
My name is Evera Kaelyn Moore, 16 years old, born on the fourteenth of August, resident of District 12.

My Mother.
Oh, my mother. How beautiful she is with her long blonde, flowing hair. How it falls almost to her waist. Her blue green eyes. She was not born in the Seam where we resided now. No way. Her long, skinny legs and perfect waist. Perfect face and perfect smile. I despised her.

Even the most perfect of us fall for the bad influences, like she had. The minute she had turned 18, she was out on the street. Yeah, she had money. She sold herself for it though, the tramp. I don't even know who my father is. Luckily, I will never make her mistake. The drug abuse. The drinking. The suicide attempts. I can never forgive her.

Evelyn Monroe Moore.
Evelyn. Evelyn Monroe Moore was my older sister, by two years. Me and her were the closest any two people could be. She and I looked just alike, only she was tall and leen like our mother. Since I have always hated my name, she called me Kaelyn or Kay. She had had this old, beaten up guitar. Im not sure how or where she got it, but she could play it beautifully. And with a voice to match. At times, her and I would preform in District Square, praying for the smallest amount of tips. Somedays we were lucky, others well, we would come home with nothing but strained voices.

After nothing had helped our welfare, Mother had forced Evelyn into tessaraes. Year, after year, after year my sister had her chance of being reaped raised higher and higher. Until she finally was. I watched her as she walked down the path to the platform after her name had been drawn. I watched her ride in the black chariot in an amazing coal black dress, along side of another District 12 boy. I watched her at the interviews, hiding her fear with her beautiful smile. I watched her become one of the last eight tributes, in hope that she would survive and we would be able to preform for free this time and move into the Victor's Village. And I watched her die a slow, painful, unrightful death... All I heard was the cannons go off, and I couldn't watch one more second of the Hunger Games... I was twelve.

It has been three years without her by my side. I still preform in the square, but I feel her presence as I play. Slowly strumming the strings to a sad, depressing song I had learned. She's not gone. To Hell with the Capitol, she's still here.

My Living Siblings.
Well, I have two brothers; Fischer and Foiger, and one other sister; Emilay. Fischer is the eldest of us all, including Evelyn. He is nine-teen, ad couldn't be any more handsome. Dark brown hair, light gray eyes. His muscles were outstanding, which didn't fit his character at all. He is a sweet guy; good hearted. We only get to see him on Sundays because he works in the coal mines now.

Foiger is the one most like my mother. He has light blonde hair and blue eyes. Being one year under me, he is the fourth youngest. He keeps his hair cut short, like Fischer. Foiger, Foi I call him, is very forgetful and simpleminded. I could see him becoming like my mother. Although I would hate to see that happen.

And, what's left is Emilay. The Tough One I should say. Evelyn, Fischer and I are strong, but, Emilay just has a coldness about her. Her hair is a strawberry blonde, beautiful, curly, long hair. Her eyes are a cold, icy blue. She tends to keep to herself a lot as well. But, in school, everyone feared her. She is Ten years old and she already reminds me of a Peacekeeper. They way she has no mercy or pity for the kids who die in the Games, it is depressing almost.