Fantasia Laws D12 {fin}

[MrMista]

Name: Fantasia Laws

Age: 13

Gender: F

District: Twelve

The youngest is supposed to be the star, the center of attention. “She’s so cute,” they’re supposed to say. “How adorable,” they’re expected to coo. But they don’t, not in the Laws household. Not when it seems like Mom and Dad want to bring in another adopted family member every other week. Hey, I’ve got nothing against them – most of the adopted kids are good people. But in a sea of faces towering over 6 feet above the ground, it’s hard for a girl halfway standing between 4 and 5 feet high to stand out.

My siblings glance down in my direction, and I know what they see. From their perspective, I am an umber head of hair, growing from a body with an olive complexion, the entirety of my being blending into the dirt on the ground around me. My eyes, like those of most of the district’s residents, are a burnt hickory shade. Physically, nothing seems to set me apart from the crowd. My facial features don’t even try to seem special, barely protruding from their origin. My lips are thin, the color of esther roses at the start of the blooming season. My nose – small and dainty. My ears are quite large, so I guess that’s something, but they stay tucked by my scalp, invisible underneath my long hair.

In a word, I’m ordinary.

Is that why my parents started taking in orphans several years ago? Was I not enough for them? Was I a sign that it was time for a change? Did they want to keep having kids of their own, and when I came out so plain, they figured, “We’re all out of anything worth bringing into this world. Time to start working with what others have?”

They’d never admit to it. They’re too nice, both of them. But there’s no other explanation. If they could have 5 kids together, why not have a 6th, a 7th? Why turn to adoption unless they felt like they couldn’t anything worthwhile themselves?

Well, I decided a long time ago that I would make myself stand out. Even if I was practically invisible, I’d make it so I’d be nice and audible. From a young age, I was a loud child, never afraid to speak out for what I wanted. If asking nicely didn’t work, I had plenty of tantrums in reserve. Now, I don’t throw tantrums anymore, since I’m practically an adult after all, but when I’m in the room, people know it. I’m loud and I’m proud, so libraries beware, I have no inside voice.

If I can’t naturally stand out, then I’ll force myself to. I’m a presenter, an entertainer. More specifically, I’m a magician. Not surprising, I suppose, given I come from a home that contains more decks of cards than a casino. Some of my older siblings learned to gamble amongst themselves long before they started putting real money on the table. I, on the other hand, learned how to use cards to entertain others and place all eyes on me. And to take advantage of people foolish enough to place bets.

Hustling and magic. Name me a more iconic duo. The same flourishes and slights that mesmerize an audience ranging from kids just starting school to aged individuals with grandkids that age can convince a supposedly intelligent adult in their 40s to blow double, sometimes triple, digits’ worth of cash to a seemingly innocent 13-year-old girl.

I love it. Magic, especially, is the perfect tool. Nobody can resist dropping what they’re doing and staring when a girl like me comes over and offers to blow their mind. The looks on their faces as they watch me turn their queen of hearts into an ace of spades before their eyes fills me with immeasurable joy, because I know that, for at least a moment, I am needed. If I were to disappear from their lives at that instant, they would feel it. And they would be sad. Because, suddenly, it be quite clear to them that their lives are just like me – ordinary.

Now if only my siblings would react the same way. As I said, they’re mostly great people and we get along fine. But once in a while, they’ll stop my tricks cold and tell me they’re not interested. How could they not want to see me fascinate them? Would they prefer I con them out of the money they’re so willing to wager out on the betting tables, as if they know something the other players don’t to make them more likely to bring home the gold? I see the way they handle the cards. Unlike me, few of the others have nimble fingers. If they tried to cheat they’d get caught instantly. That’s part of the reason it bothers me so much when they try and figure out my tricks. I swear, if I show some of them a trick even once, all I’ll be hearing for the next hour is, “Did you hold it in your other hand? Was it at the top? Did you see what it was out of the corner of your eye?” Stop! Just stop! Magic is the one thing I have, so don’t you dare try to figure it out and ruin it for me! Just sit there and be amazed, OK?

I don’t tell them, of course, but I need them to. Because for all the benefits I get from entertaining, and gaming, strangers, I’ve never had the luxury of feeling like a key figure in the Laws household. In our ever-expanding deck of cards, I wish to be an ace of diamonds, but for now, they only see me is a lowly three of clubs. Although I sometimes wish I could make some of them disappear, the only one who might successfully vanish is me. That’s why I have to keep throwing myself in their face, so that one day they’ll all realize how important I am, how important I need to be.

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

I love how you took her sense of inadequacy and made it into an asset with her entertaining skills. Very cool!

ACCEPTED!