Bury me in satin (The seventhy sixth hunger games).

Name : Adalyn Lee
District : 11
Eyes : Brown with flecks of gold
Hair : Glossy brown
Features : Has dark tanned skin tone with an underweight appearance. She's tall but lacks skills that others have. Works in the cotton fields and only has one sibling, Josh Lee. Her father is still alive but the mother died in the rebellion along with her younger sister Ariande Lee.
Age : 17
More info. In story.
Thanks for reading. :]

Chapter 1

Scars. It was all I saw when I looked into the cracked and dusty mirror. The scars ran along my back where I had been whipped until I could barely keep my eyes open. I remember it so clearly in my mind, it was one of the worst scars I had deep in the back of my mind.
It was a harsh, bitter cold autumn. We weren't use to the coldness that nibbled on the tips of our bare hands and our barely covered toes. They were numb but also full of piercing pain.
Most of district 11 were already inside in the cotton and grain fields. I found my way to the grain fields considering the fact that I didn't think that cotton could in fact stand the cold, like us. I grabbed a pair of night goggles and placed them in the basket that was handed to me by one of the peacekeepers. Saying I hated the people in the suits wouldn't be the right word. I would say, I resented them. Mainly because of what they do to us. Under the control of the Capitol, they watch us slowly starve to death.
By mid afternoon I could no longer feel the tips of my fingers which were numb with pain. The sun had already set behind the trees and the place became dark fast. I placed my night goggles on and began to work while trying to get circulation into my fingers again.
My stomach growled viciously and I cringed with the pain in my stomach. It's been like this for days now. The pain, the hunger. It was all that I was use to at this stage. Even though I was fourteen, I knew this wasnt how I wanted to live my life. I'd rather they executed me. But time ticked by slowly and the pain became more unbearable. Who would notice if I slipped one handful of grains under my shirt? It was a foolish thing, I know, but the hunger over powered it.
When the whistle came from the trees above me from one of the younger children, Rue, I gathered my basket and took off my night goggles. I reached the gate from the field where the peacekeepers kept watch and a cold sweat broke out through me. My palms became sweety and I became very nervous. My stomach did flips as I drew nearer. I knew I had to act naturally.
Finally, I handed over the basket and goggles. What happened next seemed to go in slow motion. I stumbled and the grains that were in my inside pocket came pouring out. A pair of hands grabbed me and dragged me away from the crowd. A few by standard followed me with sadness on their faces. I was the one who said hello to them each and every morning, about to be whipped right in front of their eyes. The peacekeepers dragged me to the center of the square in front of the justice building. They turned me so I was facing the ground. In one sudden motion the whip sliced my back causing me to scream and trash around wildly. A bigger crowd began to form around me and looked at me with.. Pity. I could feel the blood begin to trickle down my back when I was hit again.
After a while, I began to almost go numb. I think it was from too much blood loss, but who knows? All I knew was that, my vision was becoming foggy and that the crowd were being held back by more peacekeepers- with very large guns. I heard my mother scream in the crowd. I could no longer see any thing good. It was all blurred and stars began to emerge into view.
That's when it stopped.
No longer was I being hit. "Next time, remember who they grains are for," spat a voice. All I could to was stifle the screams that were still trying to escape my body. Instead, a groan came out in an agonized way. Maybe, maybe it wasn't so bad. Maybe I could close my eyes and never open them again. The hunger would be gone, the pain and suffering would end. I small grin emerged on my face as I closed my eyes- hopefully for the last time.
Sadly, in my case, I woke up a day and a bit later. The moon shone through our 'house'. I preferred to call it a shack. I've seen people with sheds in the Capitol bigger than our house. I was in pain, but I was alive.. Sadly.
So here I was, examining myself in the cracked mirror. I looked at my naked body, it was so thin you could count my ribs. I looked so fragile that it looked like if you tipped me, I would break. Maybe I would. The rebellion may be over, the Capitol may no longer be in power, but we were still recovering and still starving. My cheeks were hollow and my lips were chapped. I heard someone stir in the bed across from me and I threw on my -what was once white- t-shirt. It now consisted of many muddy patches and some blood. Blood never seemed to come out of clothes easily.
I felt someone slip their small, warm but dry, hand into my own. I looked down warmly at my younger brother. How I wish he didn't have to live in such a cruel place. It seemed unfair.
"Are we eating today?" he asked me in a hopeful voice. His throaght was hoarse and dry. I closed my eyes, not wanting to look into his warm eyes that looked up to me. I was his guidance, his hope. I was no use for him though.
"No, not today. Maybe tomorrow?" I told him squeezing his hand tightly. It was the only reassuring thing I could do. He needed me, but I was no longer capable of doing anything for him. It was pointless.
"Really?" he asked. I looked directly at him now. His cheeks were much more hollow than mine. It made me sick to see him like this.
"Really," I confirmed. I couldn't help sense my own doubtfulness though. It was very rarely we got to eat. It was hope that we clung onto. Hope that was slowly slipping away.

So, what do you guys think? Should I continue? Yes..? No...? Well, comment and we'll see, shall we!?:] three comments please?

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