Cleo Zaal, District Ten Female, age 17

The sun beats down on the meadow where the cows are grazing. I pat my favorite, a chocolate heifer with a heart-shaped white patch on her back, while Teddy reads his book out loud. He fiddles absentmindedly with my ebony hair. Our parents are out for a while. They said they'd be back as soon as they're done with their delivery. The Bensons or the Rydingers or the Wyzinghams or somebody had paid for 8 carts of milk and enough eggs for the month, so Mom and Dad had to bring it to them. I can't remember who it was, only that it would take a long time because they lived on the other side of the District.

I stop wondering when Teddy does the voice for a character he's decided has a hilarious, squeaky accent. He even does the faces to make it funnier. I laugh, and Teddy ruffles my hair playfully, giggling himself. He finishes the chapter and puts a corn husk in the book to mark his page.

"Okay, Cleo, I'm gonna finish milking the cows. Old Bridget is about to burst," he says, rubbing a spotted cow with a particularly swollen udder.

"Okay!" I answer brightly, running off to chase the butterflies that often frequent the meadow. They're so beautiful, I could watch them for hours! I follow after a large, graceful swallowtail with giant yellow wings. It dips and weaves delicately, flitting through the air like a feather. I dash after it. Some neighbors see me and wave. They always are super friendly with me, and I like to think that they like me. I wave back to them.

A horse clops into our driveway, and I abandon the butterfly to go investigate. It's a white horse. Mom and Dad took Ranger and Starlight, who are brown and black, respectively. Teddy glances back at me, his face contorted with worry. "Stay back," he says, then runs to answer the door.

Naturally, I follow him. I hide behind the banister while Teddy opens the door. Peeking over the railing, I see a tall, lanky man with soot-streaked light brown hair. "Uh, Thaddeus Zaal?" he rasps, looking down at a paper in his hand.

After a moment of hesitation, Teddy nods. "That's me."

The man in the doorway nods. "Pat Marton. I came as soon as I could." Pat glances around warily, as if he's afraid someone might overhear. He lowers his voice and beckons Teddy closer. I can't really understand what's being said, but what I can make out scares me beyond belief: "barn bombing" and "so many dead" and "parents" and "I'm sorry for your loss."

Teddy staggers backwards in disbelief, his hand clasped over his mouth to stop him from screaming. Tears stream silently down his cheeks, and Pat puts a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry for your loss," he repeats.

I put two and two together. Mom and Dad aren't coming back. Ever. I let out a huge wail.

I want justice, and I will not rest until it is served.

I jab the pitchfork into the haystack and hurl it aggressively over my shoulder.

I will avenge my parents, no matter the cost.

I pick up a pail of water and fling its contents into the water trough for the horses.

They will not have died for nothing.

I yank the brush through Bridget's coat, muttering.

The Capitol will pay.

"Cleo?"

"What?" I snap, jerked out of my thoughts.

Teddy smiles warily at me, holding up his hands the way he would to calm a horse. "You okay?"

I look down at my feet, a little embarrassed. "Of course. Why do you ask?" I answer.

He reaches over and takes the brush from me. "You're just being a little more... violent than usual." He runs the brush through Bridget's coat gently, cooing as he works out the tangles. "Are you sure you're alright? I know you've been having a rough time since Mom and Dad... you know."

"No I haven't," I lie, teeth gritted.

Teddy sets the brush down and raises my chin so I have to look at him. His eyes are sympathetic. "Cleo. You've shut out all of your friends, all you think about is vengeance, and you haven't even looked at the meadow since we got the news. It's full of butterflies this time of year. You used to love butterflies. C'mon, you know you can talk to me," he says.

I sigh. "I know. I'm just, I don't know, trying to deal with it on my own. I know I've changed a lot since the bombing, but really. I'm fine."

He pulls me close to his chest, resting his head on top of mine. I can hear his heartbeat, and I sag into him. "Okay," he says. "That's good. We're moving on, right?"

I don't respond. The answer is no.

Tada! Cleo! Thanks to Xx-Katarina-xX for her! She's pretty intense and I like her a lot. She and Haven had no relation, but it did say in her form that her parents died on a mission with other rebels. I thought it would be cool if I slightly altered the timeline of her history so that they died in the Ganado's barn bombing. I hope that's okay :/ I hope I did her justice and that you guys like her!

P.S. Happy Christmas Eve! I know, weird time to update, but I had written most of it prior.

Thanks!~ MessyModgePodge