Rhiannon Michelle Markos District 1 FINISHED

I stare into the mirror at the reflection of a girl, a girl that doesn't know who it is that stares back at her. I was in essence living a double life, and the refletion that stared back at me was only one side of me. To all of District 1 I was elegant, sophisticated, always in command of my emotions, the example that everyone wanted to follow. I never let myself get angry or allowed my emotions to take hold of me and control my actions. I stared harder at the girl that looked back at me, the blonde hair falling in waves around her face creating the perfect frame for her features. Was that the real me that I saw...or was the real me the one that revealed itself more often than I would like these days.

Those piercing blue eyes seemed to look into my very soul, looking at all of my failings, and searching for the me that hid itself from the world until I could hide it no longer. There came a point when I just had to let it out, where I could no longer contain what was inside of me. When those eyes pierced into my soul I would notice that the mouth would seem to drop into a sad expression, of pain and hurt. I could feel tears start to form in my eyes as I watched the face of the girl that looked back at me break down in despair. She was so hurt, hurt by memories and haunted by images stirred up by an over active imagination.

Suddenly the person stood up from the stool that they had perched on and glared at me. Her eyes took in my entire frame starting with my legs. I felt so exposed, I had picked a bad day to sit down in just my underwear. To late now though, those piercing eyes were taking in my every muscle and curve. My thin legs were so odd to look at, the pale skin that rarely saw the light of day. They had muscle to them as most District 1 girls did, but there was some extra muscle to them from all the running I did. Infact my whole build was muscular from rampaging around like a lunatic. As my eyes moved farther up my body they came to my torso, a thin yet muscular build. Several marks seemed to run along my body giving me the appearance of an animal, what was it a zebra. They were haphazardly drawn across my body with no ryhme or reason, quizically I reached down and touched the marks. It rubbed off leaving streaks upon my bare skin.

Lifting it to my rather small nose I inhaled deeply and realized it was paint. Paint from one of my most recent works of art, or was it the image of some tortured past that I wanted to remember...or was it...forget. Memories of that night, the night that I lost something dear to me, and yet I don't fully understand what it was that I lost that night. I watched as the features of the girl in the reflection twisted into something terrible to look upon, a look of pain and sadness, those blue eyes held so much pain. But there was confusion in them also, a feeling of not understanding what it was that tortured the girl. Those eyes looked once more at the paint that streaked across my body, paint that created an image of fire across the girls body, my body.

It was all because of that night sixteen years ago, the night that I remember so little about other than that I had lost someone important to me that night. I know that I had a brother, a younger brother because my parents were torn apart when we lost him. I have precious few memories of him though, and at this point I can't tell what is reality and what was created by my mind. The night isn't my friend, that's when my imagination takes hold, and those horrible images come to mind, of fires and the face of a little lost boy. I don't know if the face is real, if it's the face of my brother, but it haunts me every night. The flickering flames of a candle or the shadows created by a light, there are nightmares in those shadows, nightmares that won't ever leave me.

It's at that point that I try and break free of the bonds that hold me to this terrible world. I make the attempt to purge my mind of what it is that terrorizes me. Like a wraith, a spirit lost in the world forever forced to live a life of torment, I run into the forest screaming as loud as I can. I see the world and yet I don't see it, all I can see are consuming flames and that face, the face of a child lost in the very flames that encircle me. I sit down still screaming and I begin to paint what is in my head, the flames the face, everything. Once my canvas is covered I begin to paint myself, I close my eyes and let the paint brush dance across my body in intricate patterns and waves. I take off my clothes and paint my entire body until I become a living testament to what it is that haunts me.

Once I complete my art work I put back on my clothes and let out one last scream into the night air and I return to my home. The lights are out, my family is all asleep, and I walk into the bathroom, turn on the light to find myself painted from head to toe. In a panic I wash it off of my body as best I can in the hysterical state I find myself, and go to my room to sleep off the rest of my pain. The morning brings a newer more sophisticated Rhia, the Rhia that is known to all of District 1.

That is where I find myself this morning, sitting in my room naked and open to all the torments of the previous night. The last traces of my "artwork" still visible on me. Carefully I wipe it off with a nearby towel and look once more upon the reflection that stares back at me. The reflection shows a broken girl that lives a lie, a double life of extreme pain and suffering or the me that everyone knows, the sophisticated, elegant Rhia. I hold on to the feeling that one day I will meet that brother that I've lost, the brother that haunts my every waking hour. I know he's alive I just know it, that feeling that he is with me...in my heart.

Moving away from the mirror I put on some clothes, nothing to fancy, just a t-shirt and jeans for today, and walk downstairs to join my disjointed family. I look upon my brothers and sister, Nicky, Flick, and Asti greeting each of them in turn with a simple nod and mention of their names. I never talked to them very much, and in turn they didn't talk to me, and why should they we never had much to say to eachother. I fixed my breakfast and sat down at the table silently and ate in equal silence. Some idle chatter passed between my siblings but I didn't join in, my thoughts were elsewhere...on other things. My eyes looked out across the table and I felt a feeling of loss, as if there was someone missing, the brother from my memories.

Once I finished eating I would clean my dishes and walk out into the crowded streats of District 1. Most people believed that I was doing what everyone else was, training or out on a date, but I wasn't...I was searching. My head held high, my back straight, a look of calm compassion on my face. I would greet the people with a smile and wish them well or I would assist them in their work when I could, but all the while I was searching. This happened every day, I would scour the district in the hopes that I may someday meet the brother that I had lost so many years ago.

I know that one day I will find him, or he will find me. We are family and family always sticks together and finds eachother. Until than though I live my double life, the calm, collected Rhia or the Rhia that gives in to panic and suffering. Who's to say if that would improve if I ever DID meet my brother, would not the memories only increase if I saw him? If only there was a map to the world around me, a map of my feelings, or at least something to guide me along through all this. I'm alone though, forced to walk blind in a harsh world that doesn't understand me.