[ti]Finished[/ti]Eliza Abernathy || District 10 Mar 17, 2018 17:09:52 GMT -7
Post by Eliza Abernathy on Mar 17, 2018 17:09:52 GMT -7
Elizabeth May AbernathyBasic Information
AGE: 25 years old
RESIDENCE: District 10
OCCUPATION: Horse Rancher
SPECIAL INFO: War Veteran
FACE CLAIM: Evan Rachel Wood
PLAYER ALIAS: SydneyQuentin AbernathyFreestyle
The Seam, District 12
The 1st of August
First off, I hate you. Second off, I hate you. But I'll be damned if my son doesn't know about his mama, and if he doesn't, I'll come and kill you myself. So you show him this letter if you end up gettin' it. What you did to me was the worst thing you could do to a parent. Show some damn mercy and tell him the truth about his mama in District 10.
You tell him about his mama bein' raised in District 10, where she had this fiery passion to do somethin' about the rotten in this world. When Eliza's daddy died, he died with a fiery passion tryin' to steal bread for his family. They're very strict in 10, so they shot him on sight because he disobeyed the law and order that the district had. That was how your (separated) wife grew up, in a one-parent household with 39 siblings--all of which were horses, pigs, or cows. It wasn't nothin' like the bland District 12 that you showed me. It had beautiful sunrises over the flat land and a wind that swept you off your feet. People can say what they want about District 10, but it is beautiful.
Horses are his mama's favorite, and you make sure you tell him that. She had names for all of her 13 horses, and she treated every one of them equally. You've ridden a horse too, remember? It was on the weekend about four years ago where we stayed on those horses for eight hours each day, only to take breaks to eat and well...you know. I wish we still had that.
Anyways, what I never told you was that I enlisted the war at 16. I might've lied about my age a tad, tellin' you when we met that I was twenty. After I got the letter from our officer, I got up in the middle of the night, took Blossom out of her stall, and rode off and out of District 10 to District 9 so I could train. I was doin' this for my daddy because that shit happened all the time in District 10, and it was wrong. I still would've enlisted in a heartbeat if I went back.
When I got to District 9 was when I met you, Quentin. Do you remember the day that we met? It was gross and rainin' and the mud was sinkin' into our boots. We really worked our ass off to be in one of the highest and most demandin' troops, didn't we? We had it harder than those damn Capitolites, especially since we were from the lower districts. But we did it, and we made first strike team in the lower and rural districts, 9-12.
I remember the long days and short nights we had. We were an instant click, a pair of hard-workin' southerners that were tryin' their best. Sometimes our best wasn't enough, especially our first couple of fights we lost over half of our squad each time. We survived, didn't we? But we survived in different ways. You turned to alcohol, I turned to ridin' horses every down time I had.
When my mama died from bein' in the wrong place at the wrong time in the Square, you were there for me. I never told you thank you. So here's your thanks. That's all you're gonna get.
Seven years into the war I didn't expect to be pregnant. Our friendship grew into a beneficial relationship, but neither of us were ready for this baby. It didn't matter if we were ready though, because it was comin'. We took leave together, leavin' the war behind to try and raise this kid. We knew the rebels were losin', but even that wasn't enough for the rebels. Remember our weddin' when I was eight months pregnant? We had so much fun that day. We even got your mama and papa to travel from District 12 to see it. It was a shame you drank yourself to sleep that night.
I wasn't gonna go back to war when they asked me to. I was gonna tell them some bullshit that I was too sick after the baby to do so. But when I caught you in bed with Delilah Bascone, I knew that you didn't care. I told you I was tired of you workin' late nights while I was takin' care of our baby. You were drinkin' and f*ckin' and leavin' me to do everythin'. I told you I was done and I was divorcin' you. The next day, you gone back to District 12. I took my horse and looked everywhere for you, but there was no use. I'm never gonna forgive you for that.
When I was called back to the fight in the last two years, I ended up gettin' captured towards the end. I never told you that. I ended up bribin' a guard to let me out in District 2 after a year and made my way back to District 10. I'll spare you the details, but it messed me up for a good couple of months. I knew I would have nothin' to look forward to except bein' a rebel. People knew who I was. My young face was recognizable, they said. When the rebels lost the war, that was it. I can't say more in this letter just in case, but I still know that the rebels could fight back.
I hate you so much, but right now, I can't get back to District 12 to take him back. I have no choice. I probably won't be able to for the rest of my life, so I hope you go to hell. Our son will be a prodigy, and so will his son. He'll be just as strong as mama and now a coward like you. I hope you rot for what you did to me. I'm movin' on, but don't you forget about me.
may or may not be Haymitch's biological grandmother whoops))