Emilie Dewitt // District Three

[Penny]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=style, background-color: 1A0B0F; border-right: 0 px solid 000000; border-left: 0 px solid 000000;] A P P E A R A N C E With no one wearing their real face

You are a Dewitt.

Your slender fingers trace over elegantly high cheekbones and a narrow jaw, feeling the pale skin that moves only slightly when you grit your teeth, narrowing your eyes in an almost reproachful manor. You've never been very kind to yourself, especially when it comes to your body. Your limbs are abnormally thin, your neck too long, your face too slender. You count the flaws of your reflection one by one, picking out even the finest details until you have convinced yourself that you are completely, thoroughly imperfect. It is certain, a fact of life. And yet, you can't help but feel yourself begin to desperately hunt for something to anchor you to normality and keep you from straying into the realm of total ugliness.

Your hair. Your hands fly to your hair, entangling themselves in the fine strands. You cling to those locks, that blessedly fair mane, and the corner of your lip twitches up slightly. It is your hair that centers you sometimes, even though you know it's very odd. Your hair ties you to your bloodlines (in the least literal way possible) and reminds you that those on the outside see you as nothing less than a Dewitt, and you know there is little in the wretchedly corrupted district you live in that is more honorable than your family name. You sometimes forget that appearances mean nothing, though for your siblings you doubt it matters. They are all undeniably handsome or beautiful, and it isn't hard to pick you out as the ugly duckling among them. Still, you strive to stand taller and stronger, because you are a Dewitt and if there is anything you know it is that each and every member of your family strives to be better than they are.

And yet, there are certain traits that are not fortunate enough to share with your siblings, the most prominent being that you lack the hardness of countenance that they all effortless possess. Your own face has only delicate, fine features, girlish and fragile in the worst of ways with wide blue eyes that suggest a kind of innocence which none of your kind are allowed to have. Another is the chilled aura that simply glows from within a frigid core, sharply contrasting the supposed fire all Dewitts kindle. (You can think of one who neglects the flames, preferring to bury his head in pointless literature. Such a shame. Such a waste.) But despite these things you hold your head high, in a way that few people can do.

Yes, it is certain. You are a Dewitt, through and through.

P E R S O N A L I T Y
It's a whiteout of emotion

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You've always had high expectations for yourself, but in your family that's far from uncommon. You hold yourself to great standards and never expect anything less than excellence from yourself. People whisper that your dedication blinds you, but in truth in snaps your world into perspective. Without that surge of power racing through your veins you are lost and confused, stumbling and spinning through a world that's far too complicated for your taste. Solving the big problems has never seemed appealing to you - it's always easier to just run one more mile, to stretch yourself physically while your lungs burn and your heartbeat thrums in every part of you rather than try to untangle things with your mind. You'll leave those things to Maddy - in your own personal opinion, there are few things that can't be solved with the quick flash of a knife.

Luckily you live up to your expectations, which tends to put you in an exceptional mood. You are often in high spirits, confidence practically oozing out of your pores even though you don't mean for it to exist in the first place. Overconfidence is dangerous and yet you teeter on that thin line, well aware of the fall before you but still tempted by the self-assurance it offers. You've never been without uncertainty - you were adopted, after all, and while you know it shouldn't matter that fact is one that needles you deep down.

It's easier to admit it to the mirror than an actual person. You'll never be one of them. Not technically. You can act like a Dewitt all you want, and you can make other people believe it, too. But the truth is that deep down under the skin, the very blood that keeps you alive is the largest obstacle you face, forever tying you to the wrong family. You want so badly to be perfect like they are, and blame your flaws on your parents even though no one else does. In truth you are your biggest critic, picking out every mistake and holding them clearly for yourself to see, forcing yourself to feel the burning shame. Dewitts do not mess up. You are only hindering yourself if you ever try to say otherwise.

You'll admit that this kind of endless dedication to the family name can make you rather... brazen. It's not like it's something to be ashamed of - too many people in the world lack the bold nerve that makes you special. You can say what you'd like about yourself but you never, ever question your own bravery. People would call your actions brash and occasionally you can sense your siblings looking down on you for such incautious thought (because Dewitts are careful, Dewitts are calculating, Dewitts are perfect). You've always had that wild side to you, an endless imagination and an addiction to thrills that sends disapproval rippling among your more sophisticated peers, if not your family than certainly the refined society of District Three.

You are a Dewitt, but sometimes you wonder if it is you and not your blood that sets you apart from your siblings.

H I S T O R Y
And I've only got my brittle bones to break the fall

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You don't remember your parents. You've been told that you were left on the doorstep when you were a newborn. You know that most would anguish over this fact, how horrible it was that they weren't wanted, but honestly you couldn't care less. That was your old family - when you were a year old you became a Dewitt, and that was that. The Dewitts were the ones who raised you. They were the ones who fed you and dressed you and took care of you. As far as you're concerned, that's as real as family can possibly get. If the Dewitts are all you can remember, then they are certainly honored over parents who left you on a rickety back porch.

You learned how to fend for yourself quickly enough. Having six siblings would do that to a girl. There was, however, no accounting for your enthusiasm and endless devotion toward all tasks you put your mind to. You were an energetic child who would do anything to please, though even at a young age you managed to get into trouble by fighting with Maddy. Even then your siblings made you feel inferior - Luce seemed to be almost impossibly strong, Lux was undeniably good right down to his bones, Maddy harbored an intelligence far beyond your own, Howie's bravery could not be questioned, and even at such young ages both Iggy and Alfie had an amount of potential that threatened to surpass your own. Maybe that's why you aspired to be so much better - the bottom of the pyramid was far from appealing, and so you clawed your way up inch by agonizing inch, though you never placed yourself at the top. Adopted children can not rule their families. It simply isn't done.

You do not completely despise your siblings, of course - on the contrary, you hold an endless loyalty toward them. Perhaps you are not quite as protective as Howie, but these are the children you grew up with. You played tag with them and enjoyed their company on long summer days and fought over the last slice of cake with them. For sixteen years you've celebrated their birthdays, argued with them, watched them grow up. They were and still are your family, and while you know that love is a weakness there is no other way to describe the way you feel toward them. Still, you don't show it in the common ways - you care for your siblings, but at the same time you are constantly competing with them. You hate how you feel like such an outsider sometimes. Despite the fact that you share their history, you can prove to be very different.

You are a Dewitt. You have to be.

(You don't know how to be anything else.)

O T H E R
And we're already too late if we arrive at all

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"War", by Poets of the Fall

White Knight in the Chess Plot

Jemma Baines

odair



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