I've sat and watched this city crumble,
just as it was being built.
And the bigger it gets the less it's thought of,
I'm just scared of losing all that we have left.

Fern Sennett is a petite little thing. Standing at around 1m 25, she's small for her age. Much like everyone else in District 11, she's skinny due to the limited food available for everyone - often giving her scraps to her sisters when the food gets ridiculously short. Hunger is normal for Fern, and it certainly shows on her body. Tiny, long hands and fingers match her just as delicate arms. Pale skin stretches across her body, painted with the faint lines of blue veins hidden under her flesh. Her limbs are slight and brittle from malnutrition as a child, and as a result was prone to breaking a few bones by merely falling over. Because her parents couldn't afford to go and see any type of healer, she was left to a ragged piece of cloth and a few weeks rest - her right arm mending itself on an odd angle. It's not noticeable at first glance, but when she's standing still you can see how it defers from her left.

Fern's hair rests a few inches past her shoulders. It's nothing special, a dirty blonde colour that lightens up a bit in the summer months, but it can never decide whether it wants to be curly or straight. Usually she just brushes a comb through it in the morning and hopes that her wavy hair won't look too untidy. She almost always has flowers pinned in her hair, or a crown of daisy chains that she picks from the patches of grass in the street perched on her head. Although the Sennett's aren't wealthy, Fern has managed to snag a few second hand but pretty dresses and t shirts, walking around the District in these accompanied by bare feet - which are almost always dirty from walking, as she only owns one pair of shoes which she tries to save for special occasions only. Her smile is a little crooked at times, something she hates, so refrains from smiling with an open mouth as often as possible. Like her mother and all but two of her sisters, she has plain blue eyes - nothing spectacular.

Silly hair, never wants to co-operate. Flowers are pretty!

And the colors of these roads are matching the rainy sky.
I'm too blind to see what's really here in front of our eyes.
And I hope someday this will all reverse.

Fascinated by anything shiny with an attention span of about 2 minutes tops, it's easy to brush her off as a slightly dazed, air-headed girl who patters along grassy roads and skips through flower beds. It's a little ironic, considering Fern means fascination, and that's simply what she is. Fascinated. Fern is actually quite a bright girl - but tends to give off the impression of being dim-witted, and a little crazy, by the way she talks. Her words are wispy and very spur of the moment, letting her thought run off her tongue before they're processed properly in her brain. She loves to spin up stories for her sisters and other children in District 11 - and since she hardly ever gets the chance to read fiction and fairy-tales, Fern drowns in creating up her own. She's light on her feet and tends to wander around a lot, charmed by pretty things that she manages to find in and amongst the run-down streets and alleyways of District 11. To Fern, there is no such thing as something that does not have some form of beauty.

Being as optimistic as Fern and trying to find the best in everything tends to make others think she has no backbone or sense of disapproval, but if you pick on one of - especially her youngest - sister, she will stare. you. down. like. an. angry. mofo. Being extremely protective of her siblings is something that comes only naturally to Fern, growing up as the oldest - therefore the one who protects. Fern had always wanted an older brother as her own protector, but instead acted as one for her own sisters. When food was hard to come by and her sisters would whimper in hunger, she'd divide up her own dinner and share it equally into four - leaving herself with nothing. Fern cannot bare to see her sisters in pain or discomfort, and has taken a close liking to her littlest sister Daisy, the one who's bond is stronger with Fern than anyone else. Fern doesn't believe in violence, revenge, or anything else of the sort; but if you've angered her, she'll certainly let you know. It's rather a shock to people when the happy-go-lucky girl is switched in the blink of an eye to an angry, cold expression. But in a moment she'll have turned her back to you and be walking her sisters home hand-in-hand, nattering on through one of her famous stories - this time about the little bird in the magic palace.

Nothing is impossible, in Fern's mind. She is, and always will be the optimist, the hoper of far-flung hopes and the dreamer of improbable dreams. If she wants to grow up and create a device that turns clouds purple, then what's to say it won't happen? Everything is possible in one way or another, according to Fern. Although people tut and tsk at her and her 'nonsense tales', she does not let them get to her. Her stories not only captivate herself but her sisters and other children their age, as she loves to recite them to others. She's had plenty of practise with her expansive imagination, finding herself frequently drifting off into a world of her own. Fern wants to be an author when she is older, dreaming of travelling to the Capitol and publishing her books. That is her biggest dream of them all - and while even her own parents have softly told her that all she will most likely ever know is District 11 and it's shabby street shacks and rolling orchard fields, she will not let it die down. She simply refuses.

Slightly shy around people she is unfamiliar with, Fern keeps to herself for most of the time. She isn't really close to her parents that much, as 5 children is a lot to devote time and effort to. Fern had decided that she'd had enough attention from her mother and father when she was a baby, and that the others should get a chance to share their parent's limited yet meaningful affection. She's far too caught up in her imagination to pay attention to conversation.

I like to dream and sing and write and spin around and around in a circle until the sky blurs together in a sea of blue. I don't actually know what a sea is, though. Well, I do, but I've never seen one with my own eyes. Only in books. I only really know the fields and orchards and towns. When I go to the Capitol I'll stop by District 4 and visit for myself on the way.

And send us back to the times before.
Before we grew up and lost the novelty of,
clear blue skies and climbing trees.
Can't you see what our lies have come to be?

Fern Annie Sennett was the first of five children to be born to her parents Sinclair and Poppy in the late morning of June 4th in their little 4 roomed house of a home. Since her birth, 4 more little girls came in tow; all named after plants or flowers: Fern, Holly, Violet, Jasmine and Daisy. As a child, Fern tottered around after her mother, who worked alongside Fern's father in the orchards of District 11 - specialising in growing flowers.

Unaware of how strict the rules and discipline was in the District, Fern merely walked around as she pleased - though always sure to stay in one of her parent's sight - in her innocent little way. She was not aware of how poor her parents were becoming, how hard it was for everyone to go by day-to-day. Little Fern merely danced along to the music played by the locals every evening and went about her everyday routines. She breathed in the beauty of nature, music, sunrises, flowers, birds, everything pretty that she could get her eyes to drink in. Missing meals because the cupboard was empty became an ordinary part of her life, especially when her other sisters came along and there were more mouths to feed. Sometimes, in her celestial way, she'd get pieces of fruit from neighbours or passers-by when she grew older and was able to walk about by herself for a while without getting lost, but this source became more and more strained as she grew older, and more people were starting to struggle themselves. As her sisters grew older too, they would follow Fern around and beg her to tell another story - but eventually drop off and find their own way around the run-down town. Only little Daisy was intent on tailing her oldest sister, growing closer and closer every day. Daisy worships Fern, and in turn, Fern adores her little sister to the ends of the earth.

Her parents never liked Fern, or any of her sisters, for that matter, to watch the Hunger Games. The only parts she'd seen where the mandatory viewings in the District, a little scared by the brutal reality of it all. Fern struggled to find beauty in the Games that she could so easily find in almost anything else - and this sent a foreign fear through her - instantly hating the Games. She'd secretly cover Daisy's eyes when District 11 was ordered to watch, fearing her little sister being traumatised by the horrors that appeared on the screens. She's terrified of reapings, slipping through 2 already. No-one would ever think that the airy-fairy blonde girl would ever be pulled out of the fatal bundle of names, but Fern solemnly knows that there's always the chance that she'd be whisked away from her home, from her sisters and parents and imagination, and be left with nothing but harsh reality and the odds that she'd never come home again.

My sister is my world, my world is in my head, and let's pretend that the Hunger Games don't exist at all.