Nefeli is 5"8 and 147lbs. The pupils of her eyes have been dyed a bright red. Apart from that, she has no modifications. She has plain black hair always in a ponytail, which reaches her back. Nefeli has a dark skin tone. She was also born without her right hand.


Nefeli Brightberry

November 26th

I'm usually able to plan ahead successfully, but in the heat of the moment, it's really hard to think of your next move. So that's why I've learned the best thing to do is to put no thought into it and do whatever will hurt the most. When they least expect it, I lean forward and slam my body as hard as I can into them, elbowing them in the worst place possible. It's the best I can do with one hand. I'm already at a clear disadvantage.

But this bitch Sevilla I'm fighting is still losing to me. She has the upperhand, as she's able to swing and defend herself quickly. But she's not using that advantage. She's just yanking at my hair like the prissy little bastard she is.

The crowd of growing students let out an unhelpful 'ooooh' as I knee her in the stomach. It'll help teach her to keep her condescending moody little comments to herself. For once, her oversized lips aren't spitting insults at me.

She tries to push me back into the overflowing bins, though she pathetically fails. I manage to sidestep, before swinging again and landing a right hook. Just as I'm about to continue to pummel her however, I feel someone pulling me back. I try to resist their touch, but I'm already tired and whoever it is, is much stronger than me.

"Fuck off, you moody bit-" I yell at her, as my brother Theseus wraps his arm around me. I try to push his arms away, but his grips too strong. Great. Just as I'm about to win, I'm embarrassed by my younger sibling. The crowd murmurs as the other girl shouts something about how I'm disabled or something. By now, I've learned to shrug it off.

We push through the crowd and out to the side of the road.

"Shut up!" Theseus demands, as he finally let's go of me. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Fighting on school premises? They'll suspend you again, you moron!"

"This is hardly school premises." I mumble, putting my head down. The cracked pavements and old gum on the floor is hardly a nice sight, but I don't want to feel the shame of looking at him.

"It's outside of the gates which'll be enough for them to justify it!" Theseus rolls his eyes. "Seriously, you're meant to be clever, Nefeli. Can't you see doing shit like this is just making you throw your life away? This is a great school yet your…"

I'm already tired of his snarky lessons he's trying to teach me. "I don't need a lecture right now, Theseus. You're meant to be clever too. Can't you see that I'm clearly fucking pissed off right now?"

He can probably see the steam coming out of my ears. I feel myself visibly shake in rage, as I make no attempt to calm myself down. I know constantly harbouring and shouldering this petty hatred isn't going to help, but I'm not going to stop it. It makes me feel better venting this rage.

By now, we've made it to the park by our house, as our school is only a couple of minutes away. I have no intention of going home at the moment. I don't want my mum to see me like this. I'm already cringing at the disappointment I can picture on her face.

I hope nobody reports it to the school. It wouldn't be the first time it happened.

We sit on the new swings, clean and squeaky. It's quite a contrast to the rest of the park, rusty and old. I wonder if they'll ever fix it.

"What did she say to you then?" Theseus asks, after a minute or two of silence.

I can't even remember at this point. All I can remember is the explosive anger I felt, which is starting to die down. I don't feel like explaining it either, but I suppose I owe him something. "Some ableist...insults. The same old, same old things you get from the popular goons. But that doesn't mean I'm going to let her keep saying shit like that to me."

"It's good that you're standing up for yourself then. She's clearly being out of order too you. But...I don't know if beating her up is the best thing to do." Theseus decides, as he kicks a stone across the playground.

"You're probably right." I decide on, finally thinking straight for the first time this afternoon. "But it was...an impulsive decision. I don't know how I'd handle it now."

"A hell of a lot better than you did back then." He mutters, thinking I can't hear it. Now it's my turn to roll my eyes.

I kick off the floor, slowly starting to swing. "At least I'd actually fight back and defend myself, limp noodles."

He doesn't hear me, so we sit in silence for another few minutes, watching the night sky turn slightly darker. The cold chilly breeze is actually quite nice, surprisingly. It feels like it's cooling my anger down.

"It's never too late to get surgery...or a prosthetic limb…" He starts, though I'm already tired of the crap he's talking about. The amount of times I've heard this from everyone, especially my own fucking family, is too many. If I had a nickel for every time I've heard something about how I need to get an arm, I'd be richer than President Scuttle.

"I'm not going to conform to the Capitol's backwards views on disabilities and surgeries and fashion. It's not my fault I don't fit the beauty standards mould. I shouldn't be treated differently because of it."

Theseus nods his head, as if he hasn't heard this answer multiple times already. "It'd just be...a lot, lot easier for you. That's all I'm saying."

I know that. But I'm still not getting one. I can accept the challenges and difficulties it's going to put on my life. I'm sure I can find a way to handle them all, even if it means getting into fights like that constantly. I've grown used to them now.


I really appreciate the library we have in our house, even if it's just a small corner in the guest bedroom. Being surrounded by the scent of musty books while the room is dead quiet except for scribbling of your pen and turning off the pages is oddly comforting to me. It's a much better environment to revise in, which I do a lot of.

I hear the door slightly creak open, as my mum shuffles in. I know she's trying to be quiet, so she doesn't disturb my studies. But she's one the few people I don't mind interrupting me. At least I'm able to stop myself from lashing out on her.

"Hi, darling." She shows an embracing smile, as she places a mug down. "I know you've been holed up in this room for a long time so I thought you'd appreciate a drink…"

"Thank you! I'm parched." I say, bringing the hot mug up to my mouth. It's very warm and helps soothe my emotions. A nice needed distraction to the earlier events.

She nods, showing a semi awkward smile. I'm not sure if she knows what to say next. Mom's a lovely woman, but speaking has never been her forte, especially to her growing teenagers whose interests are changing so rapidly. "So, how's it going on here? You've been revising for a long time."

"It's going...well." I nod. I'm acing the schoolwork at the moment, getting consistently high grades. But I need to keep working hard to keep that up.

"Don't you feel a little...lonely? All by yourself? Can any of your friends revise with you?" She asks, which makes me flinch slightly.

I flick up the page over, thinking of my response. "Lydia and Aelia don't enjoy revising much...and everybody else is busy…"

Everybody else doesn't really exist at the moment? I know I'm quite off putting with my harsh attitude, so that scares a lot of people off. Keeping friends is hard when you're constantly pushing people away, like I do. Maybe I have some other acquaintances, but they're not willing to talk to me outside of school.

At least I have Lydia and Aelia! I couldn't ask for better friends than them two.

"That's a shame." She shows a sympathetic smile now. Her baggy eyes are more apparent than ever. "If you need anything, just call for me."

"Of course, thank you." I place the mug down, pulling her into a tight hug. We hold it for a second, before she lets go. I let out a sigh, as she leaves. I'm left all by myself, in the silence again. At least I can appreciate the turning of the pages and the scribbles of the pen again.


November 27th

"You've shamed and embarrassed the school and if we were in any right mind, we'd have you kicked out immediately." The deputy head manages to get out in between his shaky breaths. He paces up and down the small office he has, clearly too awkward to sit down and have the conversation with me, face to face. "But we don't want that on our record, or yours either. It's really not a good look."

At least he's being completely honest. I'd rather hear that then some bullshit about how the school believes they can help me become a better student and person, as if I've committed some horrific crime.

"So...what will my punishment be instead?" I mutter, staring outside of the window, to the empty playground.

"We've decided a two day, in school suspension will be better."

I wasn't expecting to get away scot free, but this feels like such a mild punishment compared to what I've got before. I'm sure they wouldn't have brought it up to me anyway, unless that wrinkly old trout from across the street hadn't had an aneurysm at the sight of us. Another bad review or complaint will make the school do anything.


December 2nd

It turns out they don't warn you about the planned tests when you're in isolation. It's probably my own fault seeing how I took the bait and let myself be provoked by that bitch Sevillla, but I'm still pissed off about it because now I'm revising over some shitty maths test in the school toilets twenty minutes before it's meant to start.

It's only a small recap, but they like to spring surprises on us and tell us it'll actually make up for parts of our end of year grade. I can picture their smarmy faces as they circlejerk themselves over the fact they're given a future generation of students brand new batch of panic attacks and anxiety problems.

I leave the stall, content with what I've learned. I should be able to ace it anyway, so I'm not really worrying.

As I'm washing my hands, a girl I don't recognise walks up beside me...there's literally an entire row of sinks but you have to invade my personal space bubble, sure. I can smell the abundance of perfume she drowns herself in and feel the bristles of her spiky porcupine wig.

"Oh, I love what you've done with your makeup today~" She hums, with a pleasant smile on her face.

Is that...meant to be sarcastic? Insulting? Condescending? I can't tell with her oblivious tone. "Are you fucking blind? I don't wear makeup."

"Well, yeah...aren't you going for a minimalistic vibe? I've heard that it's the newest thing~" She starts to shake her hands, instead of using the dryer.

"No, it's...I don't have any fucking vibe. Don't include me in your trendy bullshit." I decide, as I put my hands in the dryer.

"Oh...ok." She giggles, now propping up her hair as she looks at herself in the mirror.

"I thought your stump and hobo ratty clothes were a part of the vibe too. So you willingly choose to walk out looking that disgusting?"

"You bitch!" I shout. Why does everybody think my missing arm is some trend? Is that all they think about? Is that the only conclusion they can gather when they see somebody out of the ordinary? This isn't some kink or bold fashion statement.

She walks out as I continue to shout at her. "I could say the same about your crusty ass rat's fur wig. And at least I don't have to cover up my-"

She can't hear me anymore, great. I shouldn't let myself get too wound up by her. I know it's really tempting to break down a bathroom door or run after her and clatter her, but you have a test to go to. You have responsibilities.

This is why I don't wear makeup and dress plainly in the first place! Because I'm tired of putting up with girls like her! At least I don't judge people by how many pieces of clothing they can buy before going bankrupt. And I don't bully people for things they can't help with like their disabilities or appearances.


December 4th

A lot of the time, I want jazz to become mainstream again, so I can start a career in the genre. But sometimes I can appreciate how quiet the scene is. Pick any other genre and a majority of the concerns will be filled with obsessed screaming fans, overcrowded spaces and obnoxiously loud music. But with jazz, I can just sit in a cute little cafe, in a calm and quiet environment and enjoy the experience without any complaints.

I fiddle with the rose flower on the cafe table, anxiously and excitedly waiting for the show to start. The lights have dimmed down to create a dark but romantic atmosphere, but she still hasn't walked out.

"I can't wait." Lydia squeals, as she pulls the hoodie over herself. We're all proudly wearing Miren's merch. I hope she'll sign it...I don't think I'll ever wash it again. "Do you think she'll talk to us? I know she didn't promise a meet and greet, but there's not a whole lot of us, so maybe she'll be willing too!"

"I'm sure she'll be ecstatic to meet us." I say in a jokey tone (and not a sarcastic one), though I secretly hope she does.

Aelia then lets out a similar squeal, banging onto the table. "Well, I'd be ecstatic to meet my adoring fans. Like, imagine a crowd chanting your name, cheering you on...it sounds wonderful."

"One day, that'll be us." I giggle. "We all have what it takes to be famous, right? You're both such amazing singers…"

"H-hey, don't leave yourself out of it. You're amazing too." Lydia blushes, clearly flustered.

I'm taken aback by the compliment. I can feel my face get slightly warmer too, "T-thanks." I blink a few times, trying to get my thoughts straight. What I was thinking about again? Ah yeah, there's no chance I'm not going to be famous. I'm really determined to become a household name and make jazz popular again. I'll do anything to reach those levels of fame and I'll never stop trying, no matter what.

All of a sudden, we hear the curtains on the small wooden stage be pulled, as the band behind it gets ready to play their instruments. Ah, Miren is there! She's standing right in front of us!

Oh, her voice is so hypnotic and rich and golden! She has the voice of an angel, ready to bring its listeners to paradise. And the way she gets so into the music is just inspiring. I just wish my singing voice could be as perfect as hers. I know mine is definitely way above average, but I still need to practice more.

One day I'll be as good as her. One day.

The first few songs pass by incredibly quickly. I get so lost in the music that I don't even notice how many different songs have changed and played. She gets to the first interlude of her album, when I suddenly hear: "Hey, Nefeli, come over here!" Lydia shouts at me, breaking me from my concentration. I know this isn't the most important of her songs, but it still sounds so feathery and angelic that I still have to pay full attention to it. And I normally hate being interrupted when I'm concentrating, but if it's Lydia, I can stop myself from losing my temper.

I look over at her, to see her standing in front of a massive wooden board, next to the toilets. It's covered in coloured flyers and posters, but it still just looks like any other advertising board to me.

"Read this." She points at the biggest poster in the centre, as I come up next to her.

I skim over the words, not paying too much attention. Oh...the Cafe Lux will be holding auditions for their next concert, where the winners will be able to perform on this stage? To a large crowd of people? Oh, that'll be perfect for us! I know it won't be revolutionary for our careers, but it might help us get some of our first fans!

"We should totally apply." Lydia beams at me.

"Yeah, definitely!" I decide. "We have to get our names out there somehow, right? This'll be perfect."

Lydia then puts her hand to her chin, as she leans against the board. "But do we go as a band? Or would you rather go solo?"

"I think we should plan that afterwards. Let's just get the application form for now." I say, trying to find the QR code somewhere beneath it. I think it'll be here somewhere...unless we have to go to the owners or baristas?

Hmm, the only code I see on the board is for...oh, the Saturn Games! I've heard of those! But I didn't think they'd advertise at such a small place like this. They must be really desperate if they've resorted to something like this. I skim over this poster too, wondering what the application is like.

Actually...entering the Saturn Games could be a good way to become famous too. Aren't the applicants guaranteed like...modelling careers and appearances on all those big shows and films? I think that'd be great for me.

When she isn't looking, I scan the QR code for the games too. I better start thinking about how I should apply for this too…