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An unbidden silence welcomed itself through the grand walls of the capitol prestigious academy. The deafening sound of my nonchalant steps echoing against the polish marble floor were an austere contradiction to the usual atmosphere of the place, typically filled with the confident chatter of Capitol students.
The uneasy silence was soon overthrown with obtrusive whispers slithering the air like subtle gusts of wind. Prejudice and judgment haunted each of the steps I made, carrying the unwelcome weight I held into my shoulders since I let my first cry.
I could feel every single pair of resentful eyes that turned in my way burning on my soft skin. In spite of that, my head never once flinched down as my hazel eyes dared every single person in the room to meet their wrath.
The clothes that adorned my body seemed to only accentuate the contrast I had with the other student that were clothed from head to toe in the elaborate capitol fashion I despise.
My clothing, though meticulously chosen by my family's numerous stylists, carried a hint of my own taste that was surely a stark divergence to the Capitol's opulence.
Their devious eyes garnered each line of my features, scrutinizing the subtle nuances that marked my unforgivable difference. That never seems to satisfy their thrust though.
I should probably appreciate the fact that the impure blood of my mother only stained my hair, leaving a wavy light brown mess that gave the impression that it was softly kissed by the sun itself. What was left of my face was a carbon copy of my late grandmother that I never had the chance to meet.
Eve her name was, I could recall it from the rare moments my father ventured into the prohibited issue that was my grandmother's very existence.
I had, along as the entire population of Panem, little knowledge of the war that transpire between her and the president but the repugnance that adored my grandfather eyes every time they feel on me was all it required me to comprehend the delicacy of the matter.
I could hear the the occasional stifled giggle as well as the unspoken assumptions about my mother background. It seemed to hang in the air like an oppressive cloud yet I wouldn't let it tarnish the opinion I held of my mother.
"Look at her, walking around like she owns the place". One of them mumbled loud enough for me to hear, something that the person made on purpose. I was sure of it.
