Orange Moonway the Great POV

My name is Orange Moonway, but my full name is Oragne Moonway the Great. The inspiration for my name comes from Frankenstein. He was trying to get away from his creator, and I helped him, no big deal, it's kind of what I do. That, and freak people out by walking outside their windows at night.I like to remind them that their time on this Earth is short, because I've got a lot of unhealthily bottled up feelings from my parent's death. It's yragic, it's like I'm the protagonist of a book or something. If I was though, my life probably wouldn't suck this much, I'M ALWAYS SAD. I CRY MYSELF TO SLEEP. I WEAR LONG, BLACK CLOTHING TO SIDE THE SADNESS.I DYED MY HAIR ONCE THOUGH BECAUSE I HOPED I WAS A PROTAGONIST AND TRIED TO CHANGE STUFF.

And then my best friend, my father figure, and my cat died. Now I never ever leave my room. It's ok though, because then I can't get reaped.

Your, probably wandering what I'm talking about. Well,everyone, let me introduce you to the wonderfully sadistic, ridiculously fun thing the capitol has going to boost their drama points. Everyone hates them, but no one hates them more than me. It's way too much competition, for both those competing, and also trying to seem powerful when not in the capitol. Of course I am powerful, after all, I got the Heary of the World in me, whih makes me crazy powerful, but, like, I don't like to brag.

SPAGHETTI, me thinks. That's right, it was probably ready overflowing on the stove, like my feelings. By that I mean the pasta, not my dead cats body.

While I get the pasta off the stove, I looked at myself in the mirror. I had shaved my hair off yesterday so I vould paint pictures on there. Yeah, I'm a of an artist, even my clothes reflect that, with my orage tank top and my orange skirt with a moon on it. MY FINGERNAILS ARE UNNATURALLY LONG SO I CAN CLAW WHIEVER GETS TOO CLOSE, I HAVE A REPUTATION TO UPHOLD YOU KNOW.

My nickname is HARDLASS ORANGE in these parts, everyone is afraid of me. Which they shoild be, I think, as I check on the pasta again and realize I burnt the water.

Wow, i literally can't handle all of this, I just can't. Since pastas death I haven't been able to cook pasta.

I decide that this is all too much and just fall in my bead and cry, but I don't sleep, because sleep is for the weak and I am strong. After three hours twenty seven minutes and forty five seconds I come to a decision, that being that I mist use my poser to reincarnate PASTA. I hope it works, because when I tried it on my parents, they came back as two popsicle sticks, which isn't a metaphor, by the way. If it eas I'd know, because I'm intelligence.

As I get up and walk towards the kitchen, I can only hope I'm not too late.

Evan: Hello, everyone. Thanks for clicking on this book. For once, I'm writing this with a friend. Say hi.

Aformentioned friend: greetings

Orange: HELLO EVERYONE!!!!

Evan: Hi Orange. Aren't you supposed to be reencarnating the pasta?

Orange: the pasta? ...don't make fun of padta it's PAINFUL

Evan: Right, of course. Sorry freak. Anyway, if you guys out there LIKED this book, please vote and comment on it. It means a lot!

Orange: VOTE AND COMMENT NOW OR I'LL KILL YOU WITH MY POWERS. (and pasta)

Evan: Well, see you in the next chapter, everyone. It'll be up... eventually. Right, friend?

Friend: Right.

Evan: As usual, your input is invaluable. Welp, bye.