Sharlene Randell

Sharlene Randell is a tribute by Probably Reading. She is currently unfinished, so please do not edit her!

Name: Sharlene "Shar" Clara Randell (Fake name: Alloria Grace Maxon) or #522144

Gender: Female

District: 10 (11, C)

Age: 18

Weapon: Gun, Knife, Axe

Appearance: While she lives in a rural district, Sharlene does not look anything like some of your average citizens of the district. She's relatively skinny to begin with, but not underweight. She gets enough to eat, but not too much. Her face is oval-shaped, but her skin is pale due to the fact that she hasn't gotten to go outside much since her little incident. She has long auburn hair that falls down her chest in waves. It used to be brown, but after breaking out, she had to dye it. Her eyes are a difficult-to-explain brownish greenish grayish color. Just think of hazel with a lower saturation. Her nose is what one may consider "normal," and her lips are small but full and pink. Sharlene's wardrobe consists of whatever she can find on the streets or whatever she can steal. Since she can't sew, her clothes are usually dirty and torn. When she goes to Reapings, she disguises herself with a hooded cape on top of a blouse and a skirt. Most people recognize her with brown hair and an orange jumpsuit, though...

Strengths/skills: Sharlene is cunning, fast, stealthy, and accurate.

Weakness(es): Sharlene is not strong, good at swimming, or on good terms with the Capitol.

Personality: (TBA) Mysterious, Secretive, typically is wary of others, hates the Capitol

Backstory:

Condensed= Sharlene was always a rebel who hated the Capitol. After the Capitol murders her parents, she is kidnapped and taken to a maximum security prison. She escapes with the help of Alloria Burnfeld and Jason Proctor. Jason and Sharlene, nicknamed "Shar", confess their love for each other before Shar runs from him in fear. She spent her days on the streets of District Ten as Alloria Grace Maxon, a combination of somebody who helped her be free and the reason she was in jail's names. At her last Reaping, she had snuck to watch when she saw Jason in the back. As she ran to him in joy, the Peacekeepers recognized her and brought her to the stage. The female for this year's games? None other than Sharlene Randell. First off, let's get one thing straight:
 * -|Full=

This was not what was supposed to happen.

I was supposed to live like a normal person in the Capitol. My parents, Grace and Maxon, were supposed to keep me out of trouble and watch over me. I was supposed to live in luxury until I died. I was supposed to find a boy to marry and keep him forever.

What I was not supposed to do was what I did.

Let's start at the beginning, shall we?

My name is Sharlene Clara Randell. Sharlene meaning "free man" from some old culture that was destroyed centuries ago, and Clara meaning "bright" and "famous". Oh, the irony that would come from those two names. My parents must have expected me to live with enough money to pay my way out of all punishments and become some famous entertainer.

Well, they were just a bit wrong.

While Sharlene does mean free, I always felt the exact opposite. The Capitol was always watching me. I could sense it. Their soldiers stared at me behind white helmets. Marketplace cameras always seemed to be glaring at me. I told my parents of these suspicions, but they waved away my crazy theories.

"Nobody is watching you, darling," Mom once told me when I was younger, putting a jeweled hand on my shoulder. I glanced at her for a small moment, my eyes like daggers. Then I glared at the camera.

"That's what they teach you to think," I mumbled. Then I put on my fake smile of a mask that I was supposed to wear in public. "Let's go back to shopping now, shall we?" I asked my parents like nothing happened. They shared a glance for a second and then we turned back into the ideal Panemian family.

I don't even remember a time when I was oblivious to the government's efforts to watch us all. I feel like I was always aware of them watching us.

At school, I had a small group of friends. People didn't look at me strangely, but I wasn't worshipped, either. I became the apple of some guys' eyes throughout the years, but otherwise I was rather normal.

I began to voice my opinions when I turned twelve. I became a social outcast at school, losing my few friends, but all the same I was making others' eyes open to the Capitol's cruelty towards everybody, even the Capitol citizens. I could tell that the Peacekeepers wanted to arrest me. They had no grounds to; I was still a minor.

The night after my thirteenth birthday, I heard two screams. One was my father's. The other was my mother's. They both stopped abruptly and I started to shake. I had been eating some food up in my room that night, and I just happened to have a knife. I didn't even know how to use it for defense reasons. It was dull, too, meant for cutting cheese and spreading butter.

If I had just called the police, everything would have been fine. But instead, I made the decision my gut told me to.

The wrong decision.

I crept downstairs, still in my frilly, silky, pink nightgown, and to my parents' room. I heard movement inside, and saw a man in all black - at least, I think it was a man - stabbing at something. I screamed at the top of my little lungs, and he looked at me. His eyes - I'll never forget them. They were unnaturally blue, and seemed to be lacking pupils.

I ran at him with the knife, but he jumped out of the window, saying something I couldn't understand through all of my tears.

We were on the fourteenth floor, but I didn't even wonder if he died or not. I ran to my parents. Maxon was dead, and Julie hardly had any life left. She said a phrase to me, something I would never forget.

"Sharlene, you will live up to your name someday. You will change everything and nothing will ever be the same. I love you."

And with that, her hand fell from her face and her eyes stared into mine blankly. I broke down. I hugged both of their bodies, staining my shirt with their crimson blood. The knife fell onto the bed next to me.

Sniffling, I sat up and looked at something I had never noticed before - a strange, pale pink flower that looked oddly suspicious.

"You saw me. You did this. Fuck you. Take me in if you wish. You have a 'reason' now. But heed my warning: I will break out of whatever you put me in. I am a free woman."

For a moment, I just stared at the flower, and it felt like it was staring back. I only stopped staring when the Peacekeepers came in and dragged me away from the scene. I'm sure that if a normal person came in here, they would have suspected I killed my parents. So, of course, that's what they did. They tricked the general public into thinking that I was a brutal murderer. If I had any friends, they would have known I never would have done this. If I had any friends.

They arrested me for murder and conspiracy against the government. They threw me onto a train and placed me into a heavily guarded room that made me feel claustrophobic, even though I never had the fear. It was pure white and only contained a white chair molded out of the wall and restraints to hold me in. There was a camera in the corner of the ceiling. Of course, they were going to torture me with what I hated the most, what killed me inside, and what brutally murdered my parents. Though it was probably near midnight, I could not sleep. I found myself looking at the camera that was watching my every move.

But the Capitol did not know everything.

I would break free.

I would change everything.

I apparently did end up falling asleep, because I woke up in a strange room. Not like the one from before. I was lying on a bed, and there were no restraints holding me down. I sat up, and the first thing I noticed was a camera. It wasn't even obvious. It was a small disk on a wall, almost too thin to see. But I noticed it right away like they assumed I would.

I ran through two scenarios in my head. The first consisted of me breaking the camera. But then, how would I get out? There weren't any doors, none that were super obvious, anyway, and the people who were watching me couldn't tell what I did. The second scenario had me leaving it as it is, letting them see everything. Neither were good ideas.

I ended up taking the white jacket I had on off and draping it over the camera. Win for me, lose for them, right?

I looked down at my outfit. It was completely white, and I could feel I had a bra on. Perverts. I don't wear one when I go to sleep, and that was the last time I had dressed myself. The fabric was easy to move in, but felt constricting at the same time.

For a day - I think at least - I was in that room with nothing. I was thirsty and hungry, and still couldn't fall asleep. That night, I curled up into a ball and fell into a deep sleep on that bed, scared for what was to come. I was exhausted, and I knew that there would be some kind of mental or physical test for me the next day. And I was right.

There was suddenly a door the next morning, but I don't think I had been moved. My jacket was on the floor under the camera. I didn't glance at the thing watching me as I got up, stretched, grabbed my jacket, and walked out the door.

There were suddenly six men pointing guns at me.

Instinctively, I jumped into a fighting stance, ready to try to disarm them. But I then noticed that they were just statues. Incredibly lifelike statues. I was rather freaked out by them, and wanted to burn them. They looked like wax, anyway.

I glanced to the green wall and saw another camera. I didn't look at it this time, but a voice came over the loudspeakers hidden somewhere else in the room.

"We know you see us, Sharlene," the voice was masculine and taunting. "Now, are you going to let us watch you?"

I kept an emotionless face as I stood, my back to the camera.

In what felt like milliseconds, I screamed and pulled the gun out of a statue's hands, then threw it at the camera. It shattered and fell in a heap of wires and sparks on the floor.

"Sharlene, do you know what you just did? We were going to give you a smaller sentence. Maybe ten years. But now, it looks like we'll just have to give you more," the voice sighed. "And don't bother about responding. There's nothing you can do now."

Suddenly, a purple fog filled the room and enveloped me in sleep.

I woke up once again, but this time in a car. I had a blindfold on my eyes, and I remained silent for a moment. Then I asked calmly, "Who the hell are you, where the hell am I, and where are you taking me." I said it more like a statement than a question, but that's just the problem when you try to be emotionless. Everything ends in a period. A cleared throat told me somebody in the car was male.

"I asked that five minutes ago," a squeaky voice told me. I went silent. I wasn't the only person in the car other than the driver.

"Well, since some of y'all are awake, I may as well tell y'all." Wait a minute.

"That accent. We're not in District Four anymore, are we now?" asked a male voice that sounded like he would be from Four.

"We were never in Four," I told him, my eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah we were. I'm from there."

"I'm from the Capitol," I snapped.

That shut him up.

"If y'all'll let me talk, I can get this started. Y'all have done some crime that's so bad you had to be isolated from the rest of the nation. District Ten. Isolated, rural, and with a maximum security juvenile children. Now will y'all speak when I say your name and say what you did and your age? Okay. First, Aurora Glass."

The high-pitched voice began. "Aurora Glass. I attempted to assassinate the president and almost succeeded. I'm thirteen years old." Thirteen? She's a psychopath for sure. I'm gonna keep away from her.

"Jason Proctor."

A deep voice began. A voice that sounded strangely familiar. "Jason Proctor. Stole money and bullshit."

"There's a child in here!" Aurora practically screamed. Not only was she crazy, but she was also a spoiled little bitch, too. Fun.

"Anyway," he said in an accusing tone, "I'm seventeen years old." At least his crime is easier to believe with his age.

"Sharlene Randell."

I swallowed the nothingness in my throat. "I'm Sharlene Randell. I'm sixteen and did nothing wrong."

"Incorrect," the driver said. "You destroyed government property, conspired to have a rebellion - endangering Capitol and Panem citizens - and murdered your parents."

"I did no such thing."

"That's what they all say. Alex Johns."

"Name's Alex," the Four dude said. "Hacker. Fifteen." The way he said it, I could tell he was puffing out his chest.

"Allison May."

"Allison, as he said. But call me May. Drug stuff here and there. Murdered a few people. Eighteen." It sounded like she thought it was no big deal at all, though it clearly was. It always is.

"Take off your blindfolds. We're close enough."

I wrestled my hands out of the rope and tore my blindfold off my face. I looked at some of the people I'd be spending life with. Aurora was probably half my height with blonde hair. Her eyes were still covered by the blindfold. I knew it was her because of the nametag on her orange jumpsuit that fit her too loosely. Jason had shaggy brown hair and green eyes. Like me, he was analyzing the other people. Our eyes met, and I could feel myself blush and look away. I looked back up. Alex and Allison looked like twins in the structure of their face. But Alex had blonde hair, tan skin, and blue eyes with a matching streak in his hair, while Allison had black hair and dark skin like she was from Eleven.

"Some advice for you guys," Allison started. "Forget everything but your last name and your number. Mine's 778910. The heads of these places use it for everything. The fellow inmates, though, call you by your last name. I'm May. You're Glass, Proctor, Randell, and Johns."

"'Randell,'" I said getting used to saying it. I'm no longer Sharlene. The free man in me is gone.

"To your bunkmates, you're usually either your last name or a shortened form. I'm Al, you're probably Aur, Jace, Shar - as for you, Al's already taken, but since we never see each other, I guess it'll have to do - and so on. Don't trust nobody. Don't use good grammar either. 'Kay?"

We were all silent, and I turned to look out the window. We were on a dirt path and were traveling through a forest. There were two cars in front of us - security vehicles, probably. Just for protection from people like Sharlene Randell, who did nothing whatsoever.

Suddenly, a shot rang out and Alex yelped. I gave him a strange look. "Um, it was Allison, like, why would I scream?"

His humorous smile was short-lived as the truck violently flipped to the right side. I think Aurora screamed. The driver was in the front seat, a hole in his right temple.

"Now's our chance!" Allison exclaimed, and we all jumped out of the truck. She forgot, though, about the people before and after us. Her body jolted violently as the bullets entered her body. She fell to the ground, blood pouring out of the holes in her chest. I fell to the ground and put my hands over my head, and Jason shielded my body with his, jumping on top of me in a non-creepy way.

I remember crying without tears falling, and Jason hugging me, telling me we weren't going to die as I screamed.

Once again, I woke in a car. It was stopped, and somebody was coming to get me out. It was two Peacekeepers, and since I was still a bit tired, they dragged me inside a tall white building. They threw me into a room and locked the door behind me. I decided I wasn't going to try to fight, so I just fell asleep on the padded floor where I had been dropped by the Peacekeepers.

It hit me like a truck. "You motherfucker!" I screamed. "Johns - I mean Alex - I know that's you!"

"You're just now figuring that out?" Alex laughed through the loudspeaker.

The slight accent. . . I should have known the minute he said "Name's Alex." He was careful enough not to say any words that he would use in speaking to me. Words he wouldn't disguise anyway. It all made sense. He was sent to figure out my weaknesses. The driver was shot on purpose, and so was Allison. He watched how I acted under the pressure. Jace protected me. Now whoever has me knows that if needed, I can be tortured to make him crack.

I stayed in silence as I stood up and walked to a corner. I folded my arms and slid down the wall until I was huddled against it.

"Sweetheart, I think the word you're looking for is 'touché."

"More like 'douché'," I muttered, accenting the word so it rhymed.

"Sharlene, you should know that our cameras," he emphasized my least favorite word, "are high enough quality to pick up every breath you make. Or take. I was never good at grammar. That's besides the point. I mean that in a facility like this, you have no secrets whatsoever. Take your conspiracies and plans and throw them away like we did to your parents."

My heart faltered. It was them. I knew it all along.

"You bastards," I begin, trying to stay calm. Then, I lose it. "You bastards! You think life is expendable. You think you can just throw it all away." Tears roll down my face. "But you're wrong! You always have been, and you always will be! And as long as I am alive, I will make sure that you will go down in flames."

And with those final words, I took off the shoe they were too dumb to take off of me and threw it straight at the camera, which shattered in sparks. The sparks of my heart kindling into a revolution.

A few days later, I was out of the padded room and was beginning my prison life.

I was to share a room with a girl on similar charges as I - fraud, rebellious acts, resisting arrest. Her name was Alloria. Her hair was auburn and she was a similar height as I. Meaning she was perfectly normal. But according to this corrupt government, she needed to be detained. Thinking should not be illegal in Panem, but it is.

"What you in for?" Alloria asked. She had a slight drawl - possibly she was from the area or one of the lower districts.

"Thinking," I answered. I was too afraid to stare at her - she has a scar running across her right eye, and the same eye appeared to be a glossy white like she was blind. "I wanted to change the Capitol's unfair ways."

"Ah," she said, obviously not impressed. "Same here. Well, they say I am. But not really. I told a government officer once when I was little 'stop being an ass.' Last year I called one a bitch. Apparently name-calling is a big issue down there."

"Oh," I told her, not sure how to respond.

"Scared of me, are ya? Don't worry 'bout my eye. I was born blind and got the tattoo over it to look cool. Other eye's fine."

I remained silent. She seemed too blunt and friendly for a person in a maximum security prison.

"One last thing - don't try to be a hero or be 'popular'. Sit alone at meals and let them come to you."

"Counting!" A voice called.

Alloria climbed down from her bed and stood near the door of the cell. I followed her action once again; she seems to know what to do.

"Counting," she whispered, "is so they know where everybody is. This is mandatory, so don't be escapin'. It takes place at a random time -"

"Burnfeld!" A gruff voice yelled. An officer, face red of anger - probably - was staring her down. "Quit tryna be a good guy!"

Alloria stood a bit taller. "Yes, sir."

"Burnfeld, can you tell me who the hell this is?"

"This is Randell. Newbie."

"Well, Randell, what the hell you in for?"

"I'm in for murdering my parents and conspiring for rebellion." My voice was shaking. As an afterthought, I added "Sir."

He looked down at my chest. Without another word, the officer walked out.

Alloria turned to look at me. "Officer Campbell. Total pervert. Don't know if you could tell, but he was staring at my boobs the whole time. You fuck him, you earn his appreciation."

"Oh."

"By the way, in case they never told you, I'm Alloria. But to everybody else, I'm Burnfeld. I guess you'll need a name, too."

For a moment, I pondered my choices. Randell. Sharlene. None of them were casual; they made it sound like I was a rich girl from a rich family who all had sticks up their asses - which is technically where I came from, but that's not the point.

"I think I'll go by Shar."

Not once did I find myself thinking about my family when I was in prison. Mostly, I thought about Proctor and Johns. Alex had betrayed me - finding out my weaknesses from the car - and Jason had tried to save me. I guess now Jason was considered a weakness - he could torture me to get to Jason. I'm not sure if torturing Jason would get to me, though. I don't feel too much of an attachment to him - I only remember when he shielded me from the bullets.

The library of the jail was probably my second home. For whatever reason, they allowed works detailing rebellions inside. Perhaps they thought we wouldn't even try, and the books were simply there to tease us. I don't doubt that the Capitol would be cruel enough to tease us with something we couldn't have. Maybe, though, it was just laziness. There were over two thousand books in the library, and I bet the caretakers gave no shits whatsoever about us conspiring in here. Alloria and I constantly devised plans of escape.

One day, the females and the males were out together for a break. It was risky on the prison's part, but the people on similar charges stayed together. Sexual assault inmates were fucking each other by the fence. The druggies were trying to convince their brains that sugar was cocaine. The murder convicts were fighting each other. Alloria was with some of her prison buddies. I was alone, staring at the outside through the holes in the fence.

To state my feelings bluntly, I was pissed. I didn't do anything wrong. Yes, I hated the Capitol, but if that were a crime, there would be more people in jail than out. I was annoyed that I was denied my freedom all because I wanted my privacy.

"Hey, Sharlene," a voice called. I turned my head to face the speaker. It was Jason, as I assumed it would be.

I looked out to the fields of yellow grass and wheat again. "I don't know Sharlene."

"Shar. There."

"Sharlene means 'free man'. To begin with, I'm not a man," I turned to face Jason. He had a black eye, and he was beginning to show somewhat of a beard. "And I'm definitely not free," I continued. "Not anymore."

Suddenly, he ran up to me and grabbed my wrists. I wouldn't have been surprised if he kissed me. Instead, he whispered, "Are there any cameras around?"

I quickly scanned the area.

"No," I said. My voice was shaky. What was he about to do to me? Rape me? Kill me? My questions were answered in a moment.

He stepped back. Taking a hesitant look around, he told me, "I can get us out of here."

I rubbed my wrist where he had grabbed me. I knew it was wrong, but I wanted it again. I wanted him to hold me in his warm arms and never let me go.

"Shar?" Jason asked, raising an eyebrow. I realized I had been staring at a patch of grass slightly behind him. My eyes focused on his deep green eyes, green like the grass is outside the fence.

I turned back around and stared at the freedom I could not achieve. "I'm not sure... if they catch us we're as good as dead."

Then I noticed a patch or vibrant pink flowers. I hadn't seen pink in a long time, unless you counted the bruises up and down my arms and the strange meat we had eaten for lunch on day five.

The flowers gave me hope - hope we could make it out. Hope everything would be fine. Hope there was still happiness in the world.

"You know what?" I turned to look at Jason. He patiently awaited my verdict.

"We can do this."

Meeting in the library? It was too quiet. Somebody might hear. Meeting in the cafeteria? Even if we weren't separated by gender there, there were Peacekeepers every few yards.

We learned to meet outside in that same spot since the people in charge let us out more often. Planning was not too fun, though. We had to find ways to bypass the security system, the officers, and the other inmates desperate to get out.

We eventually decided it was a lost cause. The security was too advanced, and I learned the officers took medicine to keep them awake at night. I also heard a story from Alloria that a while back, an inmate had the chance to reduce her prison sentence and she was murdered by another. If I had to come close to death in order to see freedom again, I didn't want to see freedom. Since I've come to jail, I'd been trying to lay as low as I could, though NAME's constant ridicule for crying while we were shot at kept me somewhat popular around the prison. I've always hated being the center of attention, anyway.

I was lying awake in bed one night. It was oddly quiet; I couldn't even hear the insomniac Ray's shaky breathing or the occasional shift of weight the Peacekeepers made.

"Shar," a voice whispered. I sat up slowly.

"Hello?" I whispered back.

"It's Jace," he whispered.

Of course it was.

"Only one of us can escape. Me or you."

"So, you're saying if I run, I will not see you again. If I stay, you will not see me again." I pondered my options. However, I'm sure that if Jace liked me, he'd want to set me free... right? "I don't see a difference, so I'm getting out of here."

"Oh," his voice trailed off. Perhaps he thought I was being selfish and that I thought he was insignificant.

"Oh, but your sentence ends in a few years, right? Mine is for life. Think about it."

"I guess. Let's get you out of there." In the little light there was in my cell, I could see him flip through some keys and unlock the cell.

"I thought that keys were inferior now," I told him.

"They've gotta have a backup. He quietly swung open the squeaky door and grabbed my hand. There it was again: his warmth and the way he softly held my hands as if he was afraid of harming them. I felt my face grow hot and, for the first time, thanked the Capitol for making them turn off the lights.

"Shit!" I realized. "Night vision cameras," I muttered. I mostly knew the way to the security office by memory, so I tugged Jason's hand toward the room. I opened the door and turned on the light. Instead of Jace, though, it was none other than

Officer Campbell. I staggered backwards, but bumped into another figure - Johns. In fear and shock I stood there frozen as they both slowly approached me and proceeded to rape me.

"Please stop," I cried. "Please . . ." My cries were to no avail, I found, as they continued to do what they wanted. I tried to claw at them, but my nails had been cut down to regulation length, and Alex grabbed my hands and held them behind my back.

"We're done here, Campbell."

The two left.

I laid there on the floor, naked, and began to cry harder than I ever had in my entire life. They had just about done everything possible in sex to me, and I was scared. Weakly, I cried for the only ones I could trust. "Jason . . . Alloria . . ."

When I woke up, I found the two over me, looking at me with obvious concern. I'm not sure how they heard me, but I was thankful they did. Alloria, I assumed, had dressed me back in my jumpsuit. She pushed a piece of brown hair away from my face.

"What happened?" she asked softly.

"Officer C-Campbell and Johns . . . they-they-" "It's okay," she told me. "You're safe now. And we're getting out of here. Now. I think I can do this. Jace, follow me. And grab Shar, would you?" At the word "grab," I winced.

Quietly, Burnfeld pushed a combination of buttons and a green light came on. She turned off the light on her way out, and we walked around the prison. I was scared. Scared we'd get caught. Scared we'd die. Scared that in some turn of events Alloria and Jace would rape me. I thought I could trust Jace, though. So I shifted in his arms and began crying into his chest. I didn't care what he thought now.

"There's a tunnel through here. I'll be followin' y'all in about two minutes. If you hear me yell 'Yellow birdie' don't come lookin'." My face was still in Jason's shirt.

"Right," he said. My cries slowed as he walked briskly through the tunnel. "I think we should wait here for -"

"No!" cried a voice echoing through the tunnel. "Give me my yellow birdie!"

"Oh my god," I monotonously said. I was now too shocked for emotions. A gunshot followed soon after. "Put me down," I told Jason.

"Can you walk?" he asked me. I glared at him for a minute. His eyes were full of genuine pity and care for me. I didn't answer him. After I stared at him yet again, he put me down. Standing up was shaky at first, but as soon as the world stopped spinning, I started walking through the cavern.

I suppose it was a few feet taller than me, and there was a lot of room width-wise. It was dark and sewer-like, and it seemed to stretch on forever. I suppose we walked on for a few hours before I noticed a wooden door. Cautiously, Jason pulled it open.

We appeared to be in a field of grains. It was night, and the moon was full. "Well, I guess this is where we leave each other," I solemnly told Jason. I went to hug him, but instead of hugging me back, Jason brought his face to mine and kissed me. I could feel my smile coming on, and my face was growing hot.

"I love you, Sharlene. You're beautiful and smart and resilient. I just-I hope we can see each other again," he said, looking down at the yellow grass beneath us. "Me too," I bashfully told him. In that moment, I knew what love was. It wasn't some made-up emotion or anything. It was like when you've realized nothing else matters but the man in front of you and your hearts are beating together and you'll never drift apart.

Suddenly, reality hit me and my smile dropped. I ran out of his arms and into the dark where I would stay.

I had run into random territory and fallen asleep. When I woke up, there was a man standing over me. He had green eyes and stubble covered his chin. When he noticed my eyes open, he stuck a rake in my face.

"Who are you, and why are you wearing a prison jumpsuit?" he inquired.

"I'm - " I tried to act lost, as if I didn't remember. But in that short pause, I came up with a name. Alloria for my best friend, and Grace and Maxon for the people who put me in prison. "Alloria. And I don't know why I'm wearing this - I must have been at some party and passed out and found this," I wryly chuckled.

He eyed me suspiciously. "Come to my barn. I'll give you some clothes."

I didn't trust him, but I decided to follow him. He seemed credible as a farmer - he had a plaid shirt, jeans, boots, and a hat. There was something that told me he could be trusted, even though I wasn't completely sure.

It turns out he was telling the truth, and soon I was looking like a typical citizen. The man also gave me some money and food and told me to be on my way. I thanked him, and he pointed me in the direction of the market.

District Ten was nothing like the Capitol.

I could tell this was a place where everybody knew each others' names, and I wondered how I would fit in.



Interview Angle: Sharlene will act as if she ran for love for Jason, and tell the people of the Capitol it was done for love.

Bloodbath Strategy: Shar is elusive and fast, so it should be no problem to get an axe or knife and a backpack. As soon as she procures the necessary supplies, Sharlene will run away.

Games Strategy: She will remain by herself and flee rather than fight. She will only kill if absolutely necessary. She will also try to dismantle any cameras she can find, and kill any tributes from the Capitol if she comes upon them.

Token: Sharlene brings nothing. It would only be used to torture her mentally, anyway.

Height: 5'8"

Fears: Sharlene is afraid of having to make huge choices, and losing somebody close to her again.

Alliance: Sharlene doesn't trust too many people, and she'd like to stay alone like she was for the past two years of her life. She may ally with another criminal or somebody who has been in jail, or with somebody she honestly likes.



(I know it's not the same person as in her RL, but whatever)