"They look at me as if I wanted to be this way, like I wanted to become this monster hidden from the world."
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Daphne Dunn is just like every other teenager in the districts. Her name was written in a small paper, four times now that...
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The sound of ocean waves and the smell of the salty tropical air was the only thing keeping Daphne grounded to life during this very day. She hated today the same as she hated it every year it came. However, Daphne didn't truly begin to despise it until six years ago, when she was only ten years old when her brother, Liam, was only twelve. Good old twelve years old: the age the Capitol decides that the districts' children are capable of fighting to the death with twenty-three other twelve to eighteen year olds while everyone at home watches in horror or excitement. Such a wonderful price to pay for the Capitol's entertainment.
Please, take note of the thick amount of sarcasm.
Currently, Daphne was dissociating with society as she has done for the past four years. Vanishing from all of District Four's presence has become a tradition of her's since her very first reaping. She'd sail an old boat out to sea early in the morning before the ocean village woke and enjoyed the sunrise. The old hunk of wood, which was considered to be a boat after years of bumps and bruises, was adorned in chipped blue paint and what remained of all of the Dunn family's handprints on the side in white paint. By now, most of the painted hands had faded or vanished, but their outlines remained.
The somewhat wettened wood planks dampened Daphne's white blouse, causing the linen fabric to stick to her freckled skin. Her mother wouldn't be too happy about that; Agnes was always so determined to make Liam and Daphne look picture perfect. To her great demise, she also had two reckless children who couldn't care less about their appearance.
Three knocks on the rotting wood jostled the brunette to a sitting position. Her blue eyes flung open to observe her cloudy surroundings before they landed on Liam. "Good grief, Liam. You nearly scared me half to death," she exclaimed, using one of the oars to lightly jab him in the gut. Liam let out a soft groan, clutching his stomach, before signing, "Mom needs us back home."
Liam is mute and has been his whole life; sign language is his only form of communication. Daphne's mother used to say that Daphne had enough voice for the both of them. She'd claim Daphne was, in some cases, too bubbly, opinionated, and expressive for her own good. Daphne has always been extroverted while her brother has been very introverted. It worked out nicely for them. When Daphne needed to blabber nonsense, Liam would just sit back and listen, but occasionally he would cover her mouth so she'd shut up and let him sign. Other days, she'd just sit in silence, letting both of their thoughts run wild.
"Alright," Daphne huffed, annoyed that the Reaping, also known as the bane of her existence, was soon to start. As she grabbed the oars from the bottom of the boat, Liam tapped her shoulder. "Mom isn't going to be happy to see your shirt," he said, gesturing to her wet back. The thin linen fabric set her bra strap and freckled back open for all to see. "I know, I know," a grumble left Daphne's rosy lips in only one volume level above a whisper. "I have plenty of other outfits anyways," she added with a shrug before rowing back to shore with Liam.
