∫∫∫ - Blaire
∫∫∫- 14 years of age
∫∫∫ - Male
∫∫∫ - District 5
∫∫∫ - Part of the Sycamore House plot

-₪-₪-₪-₪-₪-

When there is not love for a child to remember,

Then there is nothing for the child to remember except the hate.

Appearance~-
I know how I am perceived. Unharmed and unaffected. Happy and friendly. Small and insignificant and childish. They all smirk at my height and whisper about how I must not remember where I come from. What do they think I am frickin retarded? They don't seem to get that what has happened to me will never go away, that my circumstances were somehow different than theirs. But we are all stuck in this stupid children's home so obviously we have something in common. But they can think what they want about me cause that's what I want them to think. Harmless and happy and unbroken. The perfect child. I have been acting ever since I got here; I wear masks everyday. So, yeah, if none of them can see past it all then they don't care enough to know who the real me is.

My eyes are brown. They almost match my hair to be completely honest. And my skin tone is naturally darker. Overall, I look brown, which in my opinion is the least desirable color ever. Anyways, my hair swishes around my ears and across my forehead in that sort of "I don't give a shit about it" way. And I let it be like that cause I really don't care about it. Yes, I like being clean and stuff but other than that I don't really care. I have a few little scars on my face, but they are barely noticeable. I am like, really short. Being 14 I should be taller, but instead I am shorter than most 10 year olds around Panem. It's mostly because I had to share everything with my sister in the womb, but I don't blame her. She can have all the height she wants from me. Besides, being short helps create the illusion of a harmless person. I probably weigh more than most would think because I lift weights. I don't like people to know that, but I am sure they all notice. Why? So I can defend myself. Why the hell else? Being strong is something have never been able to be and I guess lifting is just a way to prove my worth. Anyways, I am lean and quite muscular.

I wear baggy clothes to cover me. Hoodies are my thing, they help me hide form the world bit better and they help people understand that you are a solitary person. That might be the only true self I let anyone see. My clothes are bigger to hide my strengths and weaknesses. I have scars across my back. A huge mess of X's from belt whippings. I don't like letting people see them because, well, it gives them an understanding of where I came from and I don't think they need to know. The clothes help me blend into District 5 and feel a bit more concealed from the world. My ears are pierced and I gave myself a tattoo on my side when I was younger. It's just a little X but I still did it myself and yes it is permanent. I don't have much for clothing and I usually wear the same outfit every week unless the home gives me something new to wear, which is a rarity.

Oh yeah, forgot to completely mention that I am a twin. My sister, Ruth, is younger than me despite her efforts to deny that. I love her to death and she is the only important thing in the world anymore, but she just doesn't get that the world is cruel ... I spend most of my days trying to keep her out of trouble and trying to convince her to not talk to anyone. she is so sweet and I'm so afraid that if I don't keep watch some of the violent kids around this place will get a hold of her. And I don't think I can get launched into my past again. That is one thing I know I am not strong enough for. I can hide it all from those in the home that don't care but when it comes to Ruth she knows. I hurt. I want to cry every single day. I wish I could kill my dad; Wherever he is I wish I could slice his throat and watch him bleed out in pain and agony. I wish that I could leave the home, especially the people in it. Some of them are so violent, some so cruel, some so secretive. The day they dare touch me or Ruth will be their last; and no one will stop me. Train wrecks like me just can't be fixed and I think I may explode on someone someday ... So they better watch themselves.

A torn jacket can soon be mended;

A child's heart can be forever broken.

Personality~-
Kind, happy, and loving. That's me. I am that shoulder to cry on, the one with all the strength and courage. I'm probably the most friendly person you'll ever meet too, giving advice and listening to all your problems. I have a great sense of humor, great with jokes and pulling pranks and whatever else you might want a friend for. I'll take the blame when it comes to getting into trouble and get you out of any tight situation despite the consequences. I am great at resolving problems and can get most anyone to put a smile on their face. I love being around people and creating conversation and being the leader of the group. Everyone loves me and that's great because I love all and hate none. I will do anything for, clean your dishes, let you have my share of food, let you have my things, let you take credit for my achievements, and pretty much do whatever you want me to because I am such a great person and love helping people and seeing people happy.

Yep, that's me. Everything you want in a person. Perfect.

At least that is what I want you to think. But seriously, who the fuck do think I am? I sure as hell ain't no ones bitch, no matter what I do for you. It's all part of my plan. Okay, look at me that way. Only proves your blind, stupid, and completely oblivious. I mean, come on! What human is nice and good and kind, like for real? Yeah, I dare you to find one cause you won't ever find anyone like that. Perfect and does anything for you? Humans are not fucking flawless ... Ever.

Underneath all the crap I manage to pull everyday there is a kid who wants to rip your frickin' head off. Yeah, underneath my perfect illusion I am a complete ass with a terrible attitude and a craving for violence. Yeah, I guess that makes me a hypocrite because I really hate the violent type but I don't care. The people I am around everyday deserve to get their face beat in; Possibly several times even. I don't know what it is with me, but I just can't avoid the thoughts that enter my brain when I look at them. They think that they can own me and that just don't sit right with me.

My sister is the only one I can trust and count on. Damn ... She is the only one who understands. And she is the only person that matters to me in the whole world. She is the light in my world, the only thing to live for. I can't remember how many times I have thought about killing myself. Then, Ruth talks to me and I feel myself loving life again. The thing is, she is just, so, naive. She doesn't understand the world, even when she sees me curled up in my bed crying me eyes out at night. It's like I have to teach the same lessons on life every single day. That I have to remind her of the worlds dangers and pull her away from them before it eats her alive. The world is cruel and she is so sweet and ... I can't stand seeing her hurt. Not ever again ... Under my watch I will keep her safe.

No one really knows me and I intend to keep it that way. I'm not looking to let it all out in front of anyone but my sister because I know what they will think of me then. Weak. I don't like letting people see that in me. I mean, damn I am so frickin broken I can't even tell you how broken I am. Everyday I want to just cry. When I shower and let myself fee the scars on my back ... I just can't deal with that. I mean, why? Just why? I spent so much time trying to impress my dad and still ... Still I have these scars. I hear him screaming in my dreams and sometimes it's my sister's screams ... I don't know what I did or what she ever did but he didn't only hit the obviously imperfect me who probably deserved it in someway, but he he beat my sister. Ruth ... The sweet and innocent and kind and friendly; And he hurt her. Some days I just can't handle what I have dealt with. In fact, everyday I feel myself ready to cry or throw a fist into the wall.

Everyday,

The hearts of small children are delicate organs.

A cruel beginning in this world can twist them into curious shapes.

History~-
Brilliant day. District 5 was beautiful. I can't remember it, for I was only a few seconds old, but that is what I was told by some of my old neighbors. They said that it was perfect on the day she died, just as it should be for any woman like her. I never knew my mom, she never lived past the day she gave birth to me and my sister. Some days I can't help but blame myself for it. I know if it had only be a single birthing, if it had only been Ruth, maybe she would still be alive and maybe she could've stopped my dad from hitting me and my sister and maybe I would've gotten gifts on my birthday and I would have been able to avoid this orphanage I was placed in. I know it is hard for most to understand how it works, but I miss her. I never knew her, but I sure as hell miss her. Every day of my life I can't help but imagine a day where she was in my life. Just once, one day, for just an hour; Even a minute would work. I just want to meet her.

I remember a lot of the neighbors helping out until Ruth and I were about 6. At first, it seemed that our dad was always just busy with work. He never came to talk to us or anything like that, always giving the excuse that he had to work. But still I worshiped him. I mean, come on! He was my dad. I always heard the other kids at school brag about their dads and how they would read them stories or take them to the river or whatever it was. All I could say was that he worked really hard. That he was great at his job. And I couldn't really know, but that's what a naive 6 year old thinks and wants to say about his dad. Something good right? I loved him then, even if he never really loved me. Or Ruth. But I loved him. He was my dad. Who else could I look up to?

I remember running around the house one day. I was playing one of those chase games with Ruth. Sure, we were being a little loud but what little kid isn't at age 8? Dad had told the neighbor lady that she could leave for the day and then he retreated back into his office after I asked him if he would take me out for a walk. I can't recall why I thought he would accept because he had declined so many times but I asked all the time and tried not to feel to bad when he said no. Anyways, we were running around in the kitchen and I ended up spilling a glass of milk all over the floor. That stupid milk. Why the hell did it have to be there?! I wasn't terrified at the moment and I remember thinking "Oh, I'm sure dad can help us clean it up." I ran off to his office, just burst into the room, and ... he yelled at me.

That day was the day my life turned into a hell. I started to stay away from the house as much as possible. I slept on the school steps, I slept in the streets and hung around with the gangs that were around. I slept out in the fields or up a tree. I wanted so much to just run away from it all but ... Ruth was still there. I couldn't just leave her and I hated hearing her screams while I sat outside hiding. I couldn't ever avoid home again unless Ruth was beside me. So, I was forced to keep returning home. No matter how much I hated it. When Ruth went home, so did I. I couldn't leave her there alone with him ... No way in hell. No way was I letting her deal with him alone; Without me.

So many days of getting whipped and beaten and screamed at and spit on and I can't even recall how it all stopped. I just remember not waking up in that house. I woke up in a place where there were terrible messed up kids everywhere. And someone threw me in the place to save me from my dad. Yeah, that was good. But I don't think that they understood that the damage was already done. I was broken and couldn't be fixed. My mind twisted into something that understood the world perfectly. There was no love. Ruth, she doesn't understand. The world is a mess and the people on it are worse. You can love and love and love with all your heart and soul but that doesn't change a thing. The world will forever be a hell hole that gives no love ever. I don't understand how no one can see it. Cruelty is everywhere. And that will never change.

Uck, can I just say I have a major aversion to being spat upon? Poor fellow ;;