Post by Marree on Aug 17, 2017 20:20:33 GMT -8
Mira~~~Ruze |
District Two / Female |
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I look at myself, wondering why I turned out like my dad. My dad's bright eyes adorn my facial features but I definitely have her small nose. I've got her cheek and bone structure and her long, dainty fingers. As I stare further into my reflection every morning, I'm reminded of her narrow shoulders but she complains that I am my own father made over; attitude and all. I dont see it. I don't recollect hardly anything from my father except the last time I saw him eight years ago.
Last time I saw my father, it had to have been on my seventh birthday when he showed up - late. His scruffy beard and unkempt mustache seemed to show his age and his hair was oily. I'm glad I didn't get his looks. He raged about some idiot that was trying to get him into trouble and I could smell the alcohol lingering on his breath. His cheek was bruised -fresh and with mutiple hues sparkling. Another fight had kept him from my birthday - some underground fight club scene. I looked to my mother, who shook her head in his direction.
He smiled to me, enveloping me in a hug. Then he reached into his pocket extracting my gift.
A small box was brought out. At first, I looked at it with contempt and anger because it looked old and without a heartfelt design. However, the small homemade wooden gift, a necklace, was given revealed a secret hidden area for a hardcarved rose inside. Very detail oriented.
But, my mother made him leave after he swayed, claiming he was drunk. I remember the smell though and the way he began to act. He began to berrate my mother with harsh words, calling her 'worthless' and asking if she took care of me well enough.
Words escaped their mouths, enough for me to hear that my mother defended herself and my feelings. He grumbled something inaudibly and left. My mother's tears glistened on her cheeks and as she hugged me. I remember patting her back. Her silent whispers echoed into my ear to settle my aching heart.
"It's okay mommy. Don't cry - okay? Momma loves you more than he does. You take care of us a lot better. At least you love us." I claimed. For as long as I can remember, Momma Vy was always so much better to my mommy. She was there when my own father wasn't.
I havn't seen my father since, but his cards still arive in my mail every year with a dollar or two and his love.
And every year, on my birthday, I sneak out searching for my father's presence somewhere where the fighting is held in hopes that I get to see him again and learn why my mother thinks I'm my father made over. I'll get to judge that for myself.
I have siblings galore and one older sibling, my sister, Brook. Two years older and one heck of a fighter. I aspire to be like her; to fight like her. But she doesn't like me wanting to become her shadow despite my inner need to esape if I'm chosen as a runner. I'll show her though - her and my parents.
I don't back down from a challenge; I rise to the occasion.I am Mira Ruze- Daughter of Victoria and Kyanite Ruze.
