Raya Liegan :/: D5
Jun 1, 2012 12:44:16 GMT -5
Post by School is the bane of my life on Jun 1, 2012 12:44:16 GMT -5
Name: Raya Liegan
Age: 17
Gender: Female
District/Area: District 5
Appearance:
Personality:
History:
Codeword: <img src="http://i41.tinypic.com/16h2ibt.png">
Age: 17
Gender: Female
District/Area: District 5
Appearance:
[/size]When I close my eyes all I can feel is myself, through many years of staring at myself in a mirror, every blink and bump has been accounted for. I can’t forget my ever flowing hair, which reaches down pass my shoulders. Skimming the back of my back, tangled and curled. It holds me back, and weighs my head back so it slightly tilts towards the sun. If my eyes are closed I can see the fluttering of the colors burned through my eyelids as they slowly disappear. Fading away from life but I don’t. I don’t wilt like a flower. But I have the build.
A skinny body, sketched by the aches of poverty. It goes through my whole body, leaving no trace of being healthy. Barley any curves, it’s all straight, I sway in even the gentlest breeze. But I keep warm all the time, something to do with my hair, so thick. It’s like a warm blanket wrapped round me, hopeless tangles that will never come out add to the weight and thickness of my hair. Many times I have thought of cutting it off, but even then I don’t have the courage too. Many days it’s wrapped in a thick bun on the top of my head. Sometimes even the lightest of touches can leave bruises on me, I am like the most delicate flower.
Personality:
[/size][Now let’s start by saying I’m not that open, while others are blunt and can force themselves to blurt out the most unhelpful things at time, even when standing for themselves. I can’t do that, I’m no speaker and I’m for sure no leader. I’m frightened about if I stand up for things, that they will come back and hurt me if I ever get known more around the district then just the delicate girl with the tangled red hair. I already have more attention then I want.
I’m the breadwinner of the family. My days are not complete without working at least for most of the day. Every day I watch the other girls play while I sit at a shop, working for money to bring home. I have always wanted just to scream at the world for being horrible. And not giving me what I want, but the world never seems to listen to me. Even in the brisk of dark, sitting on my dirty mattress and praying for a way out.
But I find happiness in little things, when I can’t see the light at the end of a tunnel; I always seem to find the good things. The world does not listen to me but it listens to everyone else and sometimes in their joy they are able to give me a few pennies or a few more crumbs of bread then I usually get at the bakery. I rejoice in the happiness of others, even though I still want to scream at world, asking them for those things to happen to me. But I must take what I get and every day I seem to be able to muster up a fake smile.
History:
[/size]My mom use to have it more awful then me, when I complain about working in a store at least I was not out on the street, begging for food for an equal trade of my body. I was an accident I know that, why would my mom want a daughter when she could barely feed herself? At least she does not that work that way anymore; she stopped when I was around four. When I accidently walked into her room when she was working. She took me away and I asked her what she was doing, and she replied saying that she was working. Little me, wanting to help. So I asked if I could work like her, through wet eyes she shook her head and that was the last time I ever saw a strange man in our house.
She found a new source of work and became happier then I have ever seen her. Then when I was seven I noticed her stomach was bigger, I pointed it out and she burst into tears. She told me that the work we both were finally getting was making her happier and she could not help but indulge herself in a few drinks at the bar. Then she woke up with a strange man in her bed, and then a few months after that my brother was born.
My mother took time off from her job and I kept on working. The few friends that my mom had checked on me when I sat in various stores, putting things away and picking things up. It was around that time that I would start seeing how the world hated me and how the other girls had fun, school was never fun because no one would want to sit with me. All I could think about how I was going to earn extra money, school work would never be on my mind.
Codeword: <img src="http://i41.tinypic.com/16h2ibt.png">