Xavier Liston

MADE BY SEAGULLMAN

Name: Xavier Liston

Age: 17

Gender: Male

District: 11

Height: 5'11"

Personality: Xavier seems like a very cheerful and humourous person on the outside, making many self-deprecating jokes on a daily basis to keep his co-workers in good spirits. However, that simple façade hides a pained past. On infrequent private occasions, he drops the mask, and lets his real feelings out. He doesn't know if he will ever get over it.

Weapons: Tomahawk, Sickle, Snares

Backstory: I awoke that dreaded morning without realising how important and how devastating it was going to be. How much it was going to haunt me for the rest of my time here on Earth. I shall describe the scene to you. Having been severely injured in an accident with a poorly made sickle, I sat in a hospital bed, and had been for the last six days. Today was the day that I could be free. I was the eldest of six siblings, and the others weren't of an age to work yet. My mother and father were out in the field, trying to feed five other kids, whilst I was helplessly stuck in this supposed place of healing. I could have been helping them. I should have been helping them. For the time being, however, I couldn't, so I attempted to detach myself from them emotionally until I was out of here. My internal monologue was interrupted by a young, possibly fifteen year old, nurse entering my room with a sharp needle. I knew what was coming. The needle went into my side, and I drifted into nothingness.

When I came to, I felt amazing. The pain in my upper leg had all but vanished, and all that remained was a large, dirty white plaster cast, restricting my movement partially. The nurse from before told me that I was free to go whenever I wanted, and I felt a rush of ecstasy building up deep within me. I don't know how I did it, but I ended up stopping myself from jumping for joy, I had a job to do. Hobbling as fast as I could, I arrived at the wheat field, and I could have died, right there and then.

What I saw, no human should ever have to see. An unexplained fire had broken out, and I saw my father, deep within the wheat field, writhing in agony, covered in blisters and sores from the flames, reaching down, and kicking him viciously. What I saw next was worse. In the same state as my father, I saw my mother, and my two eldest siblings, who had clearly been working in the field for any extra money they were losing as a result of my hospitalization. The three of them, despite the blaze threatening to lick up their sides and swallow them whole, were crying. Not in pain, but in sorrow. That was the last image I saw before I passed out.

Even to this day, I still look back to then, even if it scars me for life, just to remember my family. I blame myself for their deaths, if I was there, I could have protected them. Now, I live at home, as a father figure to my three youngest sibings, and I dread what could happen to them if I were to be... No, I don't want to think about it. However, I could not deny that today was the reaping, and if I were to be picked, it would change our lives forever.

The four of us made it to the village square together, despite my eldest remaining sibling, Archie and I being the only ones eligible. This was only Archie's second reaping, and his first had scared him beyond all belief. The boy next to him had been chosen, and in an attempt to try and avoid the games, he pushed Archie into the middle and said that he had been picked. After a long affair, the boy who had been reaped was taken away to the Capitol.

The escort marched her way onto the stage, and if she was expecting a round of applause, I certainly wasn't going to give it to her. She looked rather disgusted as she said, "Right, let's just get on with it then, shall we?" In her usual annoying accent, she said "Ladies first," and a girl that I didn't recognise was reaped. Unsuprisingly, nobody volunteered, but I couldn't help but feel sympathy for her.

Then, the escort moved on to the boys. I looked across the square to Archie, who seemed to be praying. If he is picked, I don't know what I will do.

"XAVIER LISTON!"

I had a feeling that it might be me. I had taken a lot of tesserae as our family income was miniscule at best. I walked up on to the stage confidently: I might as well start my act now. I heard a sob from behind me and I trembled. My confidence wavered, but I knew the consequences for running out to talk to Archie: we had our three minutes for that.

After a walk that felt as if it would last an eternity, I reached my spot on the stage and amicably shook hands with the girl that I didn't recognise. She identified herself, but in my dazed and worried state, I didn't quite catch her name. The crowd looked on silently as they watched two more of their children walk into a glorified slaughterhouse. All I could think was that I was going to win this. For Archie, for the twins, but most of all, for my mother.

I waited in the Justice Building for Archie and the others, but secretly hoping they didn't come. I knew this would be hard for them and didn't want to put them through any more pain than they had already gone through. I sat, watching, waiting, willing them not to come. Much to my dismay, however, they entered the building, all with tears in their eyes, and didn't say a word. The three of them gathered around me and hugged my waist, and I could think of nothing else for a while. Then, a dark thought struck my mind. Where would they go? Archie was only thirteen; he couldn't look after the twins on his own. I was about to explain to them where exactly they should go, when a Peacekeeper forcefully ushered them out. The thoughts of the three of them living on the streets plagued my mind as I got onto the train. If I was ever to see them again, I wa going to have to fight. And kill.

Participated in: http://thehungergames.wikia.com/wiki/User_blog:TheDarkAssasin1155/The_473rd_Hunger_Games