All My Broken Hopes and Dreams

PART ONE: Sylvester Stallosky, District 12

First thing's first. Not all 12 people can hunt in the woods.

I'd never be caught back there. I don't even have a weapon.

So, Everdeen and her little cousin or whatever can wave around their dead animals, but it does absolutely nothing for us.

So, when I turned 12, I went to work.

I think now's the time that I should introduce my family.

My father died in a mine explosion a while back. My mom put the medal of honor in a drawer and never picked it up again. Never even looked at it.

My little sister Caroline is just a year younger than I am. She never associates with me in any way, and when bullies give me trouble, she's usually cheering them on. I don't really blame her, though.

My mother fights for us every day. She never once said it out loud, but I figured out that she sold herself for us.

Last of all is my other sister, Willow.

We were born in the same year, but we're not twins. She was in November, I was in January.

Willow has almost-orange golden hair, and pale blue eyes. Her smile is beautiful, even though there's a slight gap between her two front teeth. She has a pretty round face, even though it's pale. Her hair is often tied around her head in braids, and I like it that way a lot.

For being very poor like we are, my sister is beautiful. She's friends with everyone, I swear.

Now, the thing about Willow is that she is not only kind, but respectful. She cares about me, but respects me. She may not understand me, but she respects my preferences. Of course she wants me to smile, but she doesn't constantly bug me to be happy. I'm sure she wants me to go back to school, too, but she respects my decision to drop out. Kindness is one thing, but it's the best feeling in the world to be respected.

Now, that being said, I love my whole family equally, and I would die for any one of them. One day in my life I'll never forget is the day I decided to go into work.

When I told my mom she hugged me and cried for me not to do it. The thing I remember most is looking into her pale blue eyes and whispering, "I'm not letting you sell yourself anymore."

Now, some things to point out here are the fact that my mother had no idea I even had a clue about what sex was. She never said a single word about selling herself. She told us she was a lowly seamstress. She never thought I'd figure it out, and she never dreamed I'd be able to say it out loud.

You can imagine the look on her face when her 12-year-old son who's barely ever said a word in his life pointed out the face that she's been forced into prostitution.

She turned paler than I think I've ever seen anyone in my life.

"Mom-"

"You can't."

"I am."

"You won't."

"I will."

"Sylvester-"

"I love you more than anything else in this world-"

"But-"

I looked into her eyes.

Another thing to point out here.

I've don't look at my reflection that often, but according to Willow, my eyes are a deep, lunar yellow color, like my father's used to be.

Definitely not a Seam color, or even a District 12 color by any stretch of the imagination, and I have no idea how the hell he had them, or why I have them.

Nice to know that, even if I've stupid and socially awkward, that I have nice eyes.

Well, I hate them, and I hate my crooked smile, too. Last time I smiled… Well… Can't think of it.

Anyways, I looked into her pale blue eyes and the immediately filled with tears.

"God, Sylvester, you look like your father."

I sigh, and I hug my mom and kiss her on the cheek, "I'll be fine. I promise."

She dries her eyes, "I'll tell the girls."

Willow hugs me and cries, "Sylvester, you can't do this!"

I'm sick of this.

"Well, I am."

"What about playing games?"

"I outgrew it a while ago."

"What about school?" Willow asks, and I swallow hard.

I've never been good with numbers and letters, and I still carry secrets with me that nobody should ever know.

Ok, fine, I'll tryst you.

Oh, dear lord…

I can't read.

Or write.

Or count.

Or add, subtract, multiply or divide!

I can't say my ADC's and I can't count anywhere above one.

I can't pay attention, and, when I try, my eyes can't focus on the text. I end up slamming whatever I'm trying to work on, throwing down and stomping away, with a terrible headache and a feeling of frustration.

There you go. But, that's not exactly my life story yet….

Ok, so, there's someone I haven't exactly told you about yet. A lot of someones.

A group of someones, and that'd be the school bullies.

And they're lead by Summer Parkleyson.

I mean, I don't blame them.

They're right. I'm a creep and a ghost.

I never talk to anyone- ever- and I can't read or write… I have no talents at all.

I'm scrawny and pale, and, since I never smile or laugh, my smile is crooked and my laugh sounds like I'm being strangled.

My eyes would be wonderful, if they were on anyone else.

On me, they just look out of place, some magnificent eyes on a not-so magnificent boy.

I hate my eyes… Why can't they just be ugly eyes and match the rest of me? Why can't they be gray Seam eyes that nobody cares about?

I stare at the ground, not wanting people to look at them.

Anyways… where was I?

Oh, God… Not this…

In the group of bullies, there's a quiet boy my age.

His real name is Christian Twinkler, but everyone calls him Twink.

Twink is in my year, and he's smart.

And… I think I kind of like him.

If you're wondering, yes, this is my awkward way of "coming out of the closet," as they say.

Twink never cheers the bullies on.

He never even looks my way. He's not mean to me, but he's not nice to me, either.

Do I think I have a chance in the world with someone like him? Of course not, why would I?

This is one thing I haven't told anyone, and it's gonna stay that way.

I don't want to say I have a crush on Twink, that's way too risky. As soon as you declare it a crush, someone finds out, and it goes throughout the school.

And, even though I don't go to school anymore, the bullies still pick on me, and I am afraid of Twink's punch.

This is a secret that nobody will ever find out, and I'll protect it with my life…

FATE:

Sylvester eventually dies of hunger at age 18, and his sister Willow marries Twink. Though Caroline and Willow are young, they manage to survive through the revolution and be happy on their own. Though Caroline forgets about her brother, Willow never forgets him and his legacy. Sylvester is buried wearing the Medal of Honor for his father.