Brigett Opoles, District 12 (FINISHED)
Jun 3, 2012 21:41:00 GMT -5
Post by I'm Known As Eliza on Jun 3, 2012 21:41:00 GMT -5
Name: Brigett Opoles
Age: 16
Gender: Female
District/Area: District 12
Appearance:
Hi, I'm Brigett Opoles.Personality:
Wait, I'm supposed to describe myself? Ok, let me think.
Ok, so I'm an average height, only 5'7", so I'm not abnormally tall. My torso and my legs are long, and so are my arms, so my limbs aren't disproportionate. I'm very lanky. My arms and legs are thin, and my stomach is defined, from my work around the district. I just have muscle, skin, and bone, with no fat, because I don't have enough to eat. I don't work in the mines yet, because I'm too young, so I don't have strong muscles in my arms.
My face, you say? Well, I have high cheekbones, and my cheeks have a natural blush, sort of pinkish blush. I have a few freckles that are splashed across my cheeks, and they are a dark brown. My eyes are blue, bright blue, evenly spaced across, and more round than almond shaped. My hair is long and straight, down to the middle of my back, and a muddy brown color. It's very stringy and thick. My thin eyebrows are the same color as my hair, and they curve around my eyes.
The clothes I usually wear are shades of gray. My mom and I don't make enough money, so we can't afford the bright colors of thread and string. I wear my hair in either a braid or a high ponytail, because I don't like it in my face. I do let my long bangs fall across my face though. And on Reaping Day, I do let my hair down, but that's the only day of the year that I let it go down it's full length.
Oh, yes, I have appearance flaws. I had broken my ankle when I was little, and my nose, so my nose is crooked and it has a scar that runs up the side of it. The scar is red and dark, and it's pretty obvious, so I'm very self conscious of it. My ankle is crooked too, so my right foot always bends in. Not too much though, and not enough so people are like laughing at it. People do laugh at my scar though.
What do I think my personality is like? Well, I'm sarcastic, I'll give you that. I like using sarcasm, but I'm not over sarcastic. I'm more of an optimistic person, like "the glass is half full". I don't like negative people. Everyone thinks because of the situation at my household, I should be sad and negative, but I can't.History:
I feel like my purpose in life is to comfort people. If people are sad, I'll always be a shoulder to cry on. People can lean on me, and I'll be glad to pick them back up, and help them stand on their own two feet. Comforting people, it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy, and I'm not meaning to be cliche. It literally makes me feel good to make other people feel good.
I have a sense of humor. I like using it too, because I like making people laugh. I like laughing, too, because it makes me feel happy, and watching the reaction of people as I make the joke is really priceless. Laughing is kind of a remedy for my bad days. If I'm angry or sad, if you can make me laugh, you can make me happy, and I'll thank you for it.
But I'm not all sugar and spice and everything nice. I get angry really easily. and it's crazy, because if someone says one little tiny thing, I could explode. I have a temper, I'll admit it. And I resort to hitting people when I'm angry. I can't talk it out, because I'm not good with words. I stumble in my words, and I can't talk in front of people either, especially anyone older than me, and guy? Ugh, it's a nightmare.
What's happened in my past? That's a little much, but ok.Codeword: odair
I was born on July 4, to my mother and my father, named Crista Opoles and Cade Opoles. They were both coal miners, and my mother worked part time as a teacher in the district's school. She always said how boring the lessons are, and I can't help but agree with her. My father was injured gravely in a mine accident when I was two, and three weeks after the incident he died of infection. The explosion's shrapnel had ripped a gash in his side, and blood poisoning set in. That's what Mom says, anyway.
My mother can't walk. She was in the explosion that killed my father, and a piece of shrapnel lodged in her spine. They managed to take it out without killing her, but the nerves were damaged forever, and both of her legs were paralyzed. She now works full time as a teacher in the school, instead of part time. She gets to school by using this thing I saved up our little income to buy from the blacksmith. It's this thing that she can sit in, and it has wheels so she can use her arms to move herself around, or I can push her. I go to the school to help out sometimes, when she works in the elemetary school, when I'm not in school learning as well. I really enjoy working with kids, and sometimes I get paid to work there.
Oh, my ankle and nose? Oh, yeah, that's another story. You, see, one day, after pushing my mom to the elementary school, I went to the Hob to trade some shoes that I had grown out of for some new ones. These guys had huddled around me and asked for some money. When I said I didn't have any, they didn't believe me, so one of them punched me in the face, breaking my nose.
My nose was spilling blood everywhere, and the guys had stepped back, so I tried to leave. But another guy pushed me down and caused me to fall over my ankle. After hearing a terrifying snap, I started crying from the pain. One of the Hob people came and helped to my house, and they gave me some bandages and a meagar amount of food. I was really grateful, so when ever I can, I go to the Hob to pay for some stuff, just so I can repay the people that helped me.
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