Kayla Braxton District 2 FINISHED

Kayla Braxton

Does | "Says" | Thinks

What a story to be told, the story of a girl who has lived a rather sheltered life, a girl who is innocent because she was pampered by her parents. She didn't know any better, she just went along believing firmly every single one of the wild stories that were fed to her. The world was beneath her, everything was beneath her. There was no authority in all of Panem that could possibly command her to do anything. She even believed she was exempt from having her name put in as a participant in the Hunger Games. She was a foolish girl, with a foolish family, living a fools life...that girl was me...Kayla Braxton. Maybe I should go by the name my parents have a tendency to call me...Princess Kayla Braxton...rightful ruler of Panem...my family ousted by a tyrant. Now we're forced to live here in District 2, not poor but not as wealthy as we could have been. That's nothing more than a dream though, a terrible, fanciful story that was created in the over active imagination of parents that wanted more out of life and couldn't have it. So naturally that dream was left for me to carry on...little did I know that it would have its consequences on me and my life...it took me too long to realize that there story was a sham. Then to make matters worse, I wasn't ready to stop believing in it or stop acting like I was royalty.

From the moment I was born into this world I was treated like royalty. My parents had always wanted a little girl to call there own so when my mom, Selena Braxton, had me it was like a dream come true. Kayla Braxton, daughter of Selena and Linus Braxton, princess and rightful heir to the rule of Panem. It was foolish of me to believe their story, but it was all so convincing. Since before I could remember I had been told stories of my family before me, a long line of Braxton's that had ruled over Panem until one day when that world came crashing down around our family. They had documents and pictures and what I believed were priceless heirlooms scattered all over our home, the most precious of all being a beautiful crystal tiara that sat in a glass box on the mantle.

My mom used to tell me that when I was ten years old that tiara would be mine, just as it had been passed down from generation to generation my mom would be passing it down to me. It was a symbol of power they told me, the only thing now that could possibly set me apart from the "common folk". I had a different upbringing than everyone else too, I was brought up at home and out of the regular schools around District 2. They believed I was too good for that, a royal needed to be taught by other royals, I guess you could say this is just a long winded way of saying I was home schooled. I was taught manners, math, science, everything that would normally be taught around the district. The only thing I wasn't taught was how to fight, odd for someone in a Career district isn't it, to not have any idea how to fight? My parents didn't believe in violence, even more surprising isn't it, they believed that royalty had no place fighting in battles, that's why they had soldiers.

Of course their idea of soldiers were the muscle bound boys or the airheaded girls that strutted around the district like they owned it. What made me more eligible than them though, at least they could fight for the right to be called the king or queen of the district. According to my parents though, ruling was my right as opposed to something that was to be won and gained through fighting. Stupidly enough I believed them, and as such am horribly inept at using any weapon at all. At best I can throw a knife a few feet, but I'd be lucky if it did any REAL damage to anyone. At best they'd get a bruise or something from the handle thudding into them. It just never seemed all that important to be honest, fighting was one of those skills that, according to my parents, weren't necessary for a royal to know. Looking back on it, if I had only known how to defend myself a little better I might not be in the trouble I am now. I had to rely on my wit and cunning...unfortunately for me my knowledge only extended so far...once I hit the real world I found out I was naive and rather ignorant to the ways of the world.

In truth it would be so easy to say I hated my parents for everything they did to me, for letting me believe I was royalty. How could I hate them when I was clinging to that belief though? How could I possibly hate them when I was the one who still clung to the story, the one who even after finding out the truth still believed I was royalty. Hard to believe right, how many people can learn the truth about their life and STILL believe in a lie? I digress...I had grown up believing all the stories, clinging to every single one of them like they were the gospel truth...it was the only life I knew...the only life I could live. I couldn't be normal not after all this, not after the life I had been brought up to believe in. When I had learned the truth though I had begged for my parents to let me out of the house, to let me act like a normal girl and live a normal life. I couldn't live a normal life though, I was beyond living a normal life at this point. So caught up was I in the fantasy of being royalty that I acted like a pompous, arrogant child.

People hated me, despite my best attempts to try and fit in with them, they hated me. I should have known better then to believe I could fit in with them...that I could possibly live a normal life outside of the one I was so familiar with. Who could possibly take me seriously anyways, I looked like a fool in my long flowing dresses and that tiara balanced on top of my head. I really was nothing better than the dumb blonde stereotype, blonde hair blue eyes, without a clue about what was going on around me. I was a child in a world full of adults, with childish views and a childish demeanor. How many people could I demand things from like I was entitled to them? Well if I was being honest...one...the second person I demanded something from gave me a black eye. Imagine, me, Kayla Braxton getting punched in the face because I was to STUPID to realize that I had no right to be demanding anything from anyone. Of course choosing one of the bigger boys in the district didn't speak of wisdom, but I never claimed to be smart.

I'm not saying I'm dumb, but my street smarts...well let's be honest I have no street smarts...I'd be pushing it by calling it front step smarts. I didn't know how the world worked, and that punch to the face was like a wake up call. A pity I didn't take it seriously and make an attempt to learn some new things from it. I was still just as dumb as I was before, I didn't try and learn how to defend myself, I didn't do anything but walk back home and cry in the arms of my mom and dad. I'm a hopeless case, I never learn...in my defense I am a slow learner...but in this case it was just ridiculous. I should have tried to make something of myself instead of clinging to that false dream of royalty and leisure. Can't teach an old dog new tricks they say, I grew up my whole life believing in the ideals that I was royalty and a few days...weeks...months...weren't going to change me. Some would say I should embrace how I am, but I can't think of one logical reason why I should. All it had done for me so far was give me a black eye and hurt pride.

I wasn't about to let it stop me from leaving the house though. I was determined to see what the real world was like, and if I got a few black eyes along the way...well I'd accept it. I had to know how normal people lived, I had to know what the world was really like, instead of the bubble that I grew up in. I simply couldn't be led on by the fairy tales my parents had filled my head with, I had to know what the real world was like...and maybe along the way I could learn something about myself. I needed to know the real story behind my family...behind the tiara...behind my whole life. I had to learn the truth and I do anything to figure it out.






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