Post by perrin rochelle piers on Jul 28, 2011 17:10:40 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,background-image:url(http://i52.tinypic.com/otj5sn.jpg); width: 390px; height: 450px; -moz-border-radius: 40px 0px 40px 0px; border-radius:40px 0px 40px 0px; opacity: 0.8; border-right: #7298ac 15px solid; border-left: #7298ac 15px solid;] Perrin stood alone in her room in the Remake Center. She was clean, and her body was completely free of hair. Her skin tingled, and she wore only a robe and the ring her father had given her before she'd left District Twelve. The very thought of which caused her stomach to sink. It brought back the very recent memory of the Reaping Day and only intensified the overwhelming feeling of her upcoming death. Was it really only a matter of hours ago that she'd been standing in the Hob, trying to get her hands on a decent book to read? Yes, yes it was, she still remembered walking from the Hob to the Town Square in her best clothes to stand in very back with the other eighteen-year-olds. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked up at the platform where Effie Trinket stood, drawing the slip of paper holding the name of the girl who would be sent to the arena on behalf of District 12 that year. The odds weren't in her favor. They never were for any young person who took out tesserae to feed their families. She didn't have it as bad as others, though. She had only applied twice, unlike others who had applied six times or more to make sure ends were met. All noise seemed to stop when the name was read aloud. "Perrin Piers!" The girl that was standing next to her gasped and whipped her head to stare. She was a merchant's daughter. Someone who didn't know what it was like to be hungry. Someone who didn't understand what it was like to be someone's only family. Perrin's legs felt like stone as she headed up onto the stage to stand next to Effie Trinket, who wrapped an arm around her and called her a 'pretty one' before moving on to draw a boy's name. Perrin looked over at the dress she had worn to the Reaping. It was still there, looking drab compared to the chair it rested upon. Her aunt had worn that dress to her Reaping Days many years ago. She had told her that it was lucky. That she wouldn't have her name drawn if she wore that dress. And she had believed her aunt and had worn the dress from the age of sixteen onward. And look where she was now. Chosen for the Hunger Games along with her younger brother, Hunter. Preparing for the pre-slaughter pageantry. Perrin looked at her reflection in the mirror and sighed, her fingertips gingerly touching her cheekbones, wondering if they'd do anything to her face to physically change it to make her look more "beautiful" by Capitol standards. She certainly hoped not. She wanted to die looking and acting like herself. Not in the form that the Capitol wanted her to be. |
made by hay shay @ caution!
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