ravenwritesevermore

[ravenwritesevermore]

Summary:

The stains wouldn’t come out. They never did, the dyes used in the factory were of the highest quality. Liv couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen the bare skin of her hands and forearms. They came in every colour- magenta, lilac, cerulean, emerald green, crimson, white, bright, sunny yellow. A stark contrast from the fabrics they used here in the district. Their clothes were muddy brown, grey, worn out black, unprocessed white cotton turned yellow from wear and washing. Those colours weren’t for them to have. They could make them, they could wear them on their skin, earned from hours of labour at the factories, but they could never own them. * There were seventy five Hunger Games in the history of Panem. One thousand eight hundred and two tributes, each with their own stories, their own experiences, their own fears and tragedies. Olivia is one of them, an orphan of District 8, textiles. The 72nd Hunger Games are about to start. Life has always been shitty, so how surprising could this be, really? But maybe she can find purpose along the way. That would be good, she hasn't had any in a long time.