I lean against the pine árvore with my axe set beside me, and my pad and pencil in hand.
"Would you hurry up with that, Dev?" my father Aaron exclaims.
"Let me just finish this stanza, and then I'll get choppin'," I shoot right back.
"And be quick about it!", my father exclaims yet again, unloading all of his body strength into his axe, hammering away at the pine. I, Devin Qurstil, being a 15 ano old, from District 7, write poesia as a hobby and a sport. I have made several pieces, about differating themes. I am now qualified to start out at being a lumberjack, as you start out after your fifteenth birthday occurs. I start out this hot and humid 20th of July dressing, eating, and heading out the door. Yesterday, the 19th of July, being my birthday, I got a few measly gifts, being my pad and pencil, and clothes to wear as I lumberjack. I only get these, and not others I wished for (clothes not being one of those on the large expensive list), because, of course 7 is far from being the wealthiest of the districts.
As the long dia flashes by, the sun beats down on my back, as I hack away at each individual tree. At the end of the day, I am satisfied with the results on my first dia on the job with my father, as he helped walk me through it. I now have learned that I am not at all bad at these techniques I have mastered. As we march on home, I now feel the aching pain and soreness in my arms and my lower back from the whacking I did with my axe the trees. The only thing I can do to keep myself up and on my feet is lean on the trees near the treeline. I have now seen the costs of work up close and personal. As I stumble through the doorway to my own small yet comforting house, I collapse right then and there on the wooden floor in the midst of my two sisters, my brother, and my mother and father. My father chuckles, my younger 6 ano old sister, Giselle, and my mother, Kaylee, giggle into their cupped hands, my younger 11 ano old sister, Thalia, rolls on the floor laughing up a storm, and my youngest sibling, my brother Jameson, plays with his building blocks, looking at me with a grin, drooling. Disgusting.