Sparrow Blackmore, District 11, Age 18, Female

"Going to work, Sage!" I hollered to my best friend, hoping she would be OK while I was gone. See Sage was blind, she was also my best friend. Now, listen we had both been rebels, both of our families had been killed. Now, all I was doing was keeping us alive. I was working in the fields, agriculture, while Sage stayed home.

Ugh. Is it wrong for me to say that I hate my District? It's just that, well security here is immensely high, although I should expect that. District 11 had been, after all, the second District to join the rebellion. Which is why, you found no one here with any respect for the Capitol, and I would tell them that too.

If it wouldn't get me and Sage killed, because that girl? She deserved way better than all this. How she put up with me was a mystery. And in order for me to achieve that, I need to work. And in District 11 there's only really one way to work.

Agriculture. I would much rather be throwing knives or hacking wood with an axe than agriculture. Man, the other District were lucky. We were stuck with, pretty much, super gardening.

"What did you say about gardening?" Oh, had I said that out loud? Meh, it was just Sage. I turned and saw a head poke out from behind the door. An eyebrow raised in question. A smirk plastered on her face.

I rolled my eyes, knowing she couldn't see me. Did that bother me? Yes, it did, sometimes. I mean at least this way I knew her friendship was genuine. No judging off looks or appearances, because you know.

But, weirdly enough, it always made me self-conscious. For example, if she wasn't blind, would she still have befriended me? If she wasn't blind, would her whole family still have been killed by war? No. I promised myself I wouldn't ever speak of it again. Yet, you could still tell that the war wasn't completely over. Not in the sense we still had any hope, just the fact that we were be going to get punishments. Severe punishments, the war was over, but the consiquences sure as Hell weren't.

And trust me, there were worst things then death. Like, I don't know, really just spit-balling here but, how about finding your whole family dead at age, maybe say 11, maybe 12? Now that was bad, mentally scaring, if you asked me.

Because I knew all about it. In fact you could call me an expert in that manner. See I was just a little ten year old girl, my skin wasn't quite as tan as it is now, from all the war and running, my skin had now gone from to usual mocha tone, to a crisp burnt colouring, back then it was smooth and lighter. My face also softer, happier. And I definitely hugged and did normal things a lot more.

Because back the I didn't cuss until my roommates ears bled.

I was an eleven year old in the middle of a war, and I didn't notice. A. Thing.

I was so stupidly oblivious, that it makes my heart ache. Sure, I knew something was wrong, but I never commented on it. I was little, and even though my parents were rebels in the end, died as rebels too, they tried keeping me safe and away from al the danger.

But in all of it, they forget to protect themselves. One day, they said they were going somewhere, I now know hey were probably gone with some rebel buddies, to take on the loyalist perhaps. I hate the Loyalist, makes me want to tear them limb from limb actually, because they friggin killed my parents. And my parents were everything to me.

So off they went, they had told me to stay hidden, had shown me a place to stay, away from everything else. That means the fighting, the war, but of course, I didn't know that at the time.

The next Morning I woke up, sat, waiting for my parents, before I got impatient. When I finally found them, it makes me wish that I had just stayed in my little safe haven. I saw both my parents dead. Hanging by their necks, lead wrapped tightly around the flesh in between the chest and head.

I had ran, ran so far, never stopping, just wanting to get away from... Whatever that was. I remember years prickling my eyes. I few may have even fallen. But I can't even remember anymore.

I knew people yelled at the "little hooligan on the run" and stared and a few tried shooting at me, but I was a small target, moving at very fast rates. Most of the shots missed, the ones that did hit? Well. Now I have the scars for the street cred.

I regret such a cowardly move. Without it, I wouldn't have hated cowardice and anything but bluntness so eargerly. But, it helped create who I am today, so at least I owe my past self something at least. But I'm a more, look to the future kind of girl. If I hadn't run, I wouldn't have so openly despised any form of cowardice as strongly as I do now. Yay?

I looked at Sage. Her eyes grey, one looking behind me, the other looking slightly more to the left. Her hair fall uselessly into her eyes, but of course she can't see them.

Sometimes it made me wish she could see my tall slender appearance. My big, brown chocolate eyes. My long lashes, and hairstyle that most would mistake for an Afro. My dark mocha skin, I wish she could see it.

"Does it bother you that you don't know what I look like?" I could hear her chuckle before shaking her head calmly, a smile plastered on her face. "Now, why, in the name of the Heavens care what you look like?"

And I intelligently replied with a, "Meh." The last thing I heard on my way to work way the muffled giggles of my blind best friend Sage. And stupidly, I couldn't help but smile.

ooooOoooo

"Keep going, don't stop now! Or the president'll have your heads by tonight!" I winced at the peacekeepers, rustling us to keep in line, to keep working. One stepped dangerously close to my body, his white uniform slightly stained from the dirt of our fields, I tensed, wanting to punch him the face for what he supported. That had gotten my family killed, and it was people like him who were to blame.

I hated it, I never used to have to work, but of course the war made sure to put a stop to that. Now, instead of happily spending my days doing whatever the Hell I used to do before the rebellion, I was working my butt off for the minimum wage. Sage wanted to help, but she was blind and no matter the tough exterior I showed to most, I truly did care for her.

It didn't that our fields were absolutely trashed from the war. Even if most of our dirt was once again hard as rock and burnt, we still had to complete our super gardening. I hurriedly started picking the fruits from the tree above me when once agin a peacekeeper came near me. He brushed into me, completely his fault, and I dropped my basket of apples and peaches.

"Watch where you're going." And I immediately regretted all my life choices. My hand found my mouth and I stood there, speechless. I tried not to whimper in fear, but I was scared.

I had just said that to a peacekeepers! I didn't need to remove his helmet to see that he was angry. Then worst came to worst. He reached at his belt, suddenly a whip was in his hand.

His raised it, brought it down upon me, I screamed as it made contact. It sting like Hell. I fell to my knees immediately, clutching my burning face. My hand was shaking as I removed it from my face. Blood now coating my fingers.

I shakily tried getting up again, despite my shaking hands and knees wanting desperately to buckle underneath me. He just whipped my again, this s time, it hit my neck. I screeched as I hit the hard ground once more. The pain was horrible, my cheek still stung like crazy and I could feel it starting to swell.

I screached in pain. I looked, no one was trying to help me. But I didn't blame them, they couldn't unless they wanted to be whipped too. I did see a little boy out of the corner of my eye graciously take a step towards me, before his mother pulled him back, they exchanged a few words, before going back to work.

I couldn't see them anymore, my swelling blocking the view.

I would most likely develop a black eye in time. As for my neck, it was a bloody mess. It soaked into my clear white shirt, which had already been stained with dirt and grass stains. Now it was also coated in blood.

I lay there on the ground. A single tear finding its way onto my face, it slides slowly down my face, mixing with the blood, then into the ground. I don't try getting up again, hoping to do that when he leaves.

My whole body aches, my cheek and neck still stinging. "Hope you'll learn to control your mouth next time, eh missy?"

I looked up, my eyes glazed over, I was trying not to quiver, instead I bit the inside of my mouth in order to keep a straight face. another peacekeeper approached us, "Maybe if you get lucky she'll get reaped, then none of us will ever have to worry about her mouth again."

Reaped? What on earth were they talking on about? Nevermind, as they both started walking away, I slowly made it back onto my feet. I numbly reached for my basket, my body still aching, my face and neck still stinging. Killing me. But I couldn't stop, I honestly liked believing that if you fall, you should always try to get back up again. No matter how messed up your situation is.

I kept picking fruits, hoping that I would finally be able to go home in... About seven hours. I sighed, toady was going to be a long work day. I tried ignoring the excruciating pain on the left side of my body, and just kept on working. No matter how hard I desperately wanted to cry in that moment.

But I just kept working. And it wasn't until I fainted once reaching home, that I realized just how pointless life is. The only reason I was still going was Sage.

Because Sage, deserved so much more than what I had to offer.

So, Sparrow? I like her attitude that's for sure. Listen from now on I'll try and update more frequently. If possible, I know we have a lot of tributes left, but without further ado, next up will be Velkan!