He sparkled but the jewels were as fake as him. Everything was fake though. What was real? Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing was real and anyone pretending any differently were just deluding their self. But that was what people did best. Everyone hid behind fake smiles. Everyone hid behind delusions of grandeur. That was the way the world worked.
No one realised all the other smiles were fake, but so was everything really. What wasn't?
No one knew how to deal with the weakness and so they adapted. Some spat up vile into perfect, sparkling toilets, some broke open razors until cherry red (because even then it had to be perfect) stained white.
Perhaps that was the only way they could be real. When their veins were bared open and blood was pouring and you could hear people's screaming but it was all so faint.
So you returned the favour, lucky, lucky, lucky.
A lucky 23 per year would never have to pretend. Never have to smile and laugh and tell concerned siblingsparentsteachersfriendslovers (because they all bled into each other didn't they? All the same concerned face,) that they were okay.
Because they weren't okay, but they were free. (And what did okay really ever mean?)
But one (the unlucky among all) was forced. They could pretend they were okay but after the games (their one chance) no one was ever okay.
They could pretend, and blend in. Afterall, everyone was messed up.
But none so messed up as the victors.
Such a hollow victory. All they won was life.
Thanks for reading! If you have any ideas on how to improve, I'd love to get a PM or a review. I've lurked for a while but this is my first real attempt at writing, so any criticism would be amazing.
This is a Submit Your Own Tribute and the form is on my profile so if you'd be willing, please Submit a Tribute. I'm only going to accept PM's, sorry if that's an inconvenience.
I hope you decide to submit, I'd love to be able to write this as I have some cool ideas!