Drabble. Boredom. Doesn't make sense with my other writings about her, but it's because I write from different portrayals and stuff.
Enjoy. Don't know if you'll fall asleep.
Here's my comment about my life: it's a set of scales.
I don't want to throw my district spontaneity into the world of dead things. Yet I can't keep it. The Capitol looms over me like a tree ready to drop a tracker jacker nest.
It was easier before I won those Games because I didn't know about district misery. Here, in 2, it's easy to feed yourself, the food's handed to you. No one dies of sickness. Mine accidents are few, and uncontrollable.
Now that's gone, my ignorance. I wonder why they fed us like that, why they kept us alive. And those few mine accidents…What if they were controllable, only the Capitol didn't want to stop them? What if they were made on purpose?
A week after Lyme won, they told me that there was an accident at the Nut, Lyme's "Military Base", her favorite place in Panem. It was said to be caused by a capricious fall of rocks, but Lyme's reaction murmurs that it was to punish her for using her district token to her advantage.
And their deaths weren't accidents, I know. My father and boy and those tributes killed in the Games. At least the Capitol was honest about the tributes, stated that they were to die. But they acted like my loved ones' deaths were accidents. Their subterfuges, no, lies, kept me around for a while, a day or two. Then it came to me that the "accidents" were arranged because I refused to be prostituted the first few times, fearing that it would slander me. So then I said yes. I was nowhere as popular as Finnick, and Cashmere, and Gloss. My list is still long.
Why do they want me? I'm pretty, not beautiful or provocative. My mask is more vicious and bloodthirsty, more uncontrolled, but I still couldn't see why they'd want me in the same bed. Haymitch told me it was because they liked the feeling of controlling us, the strongest of the strong, the victors, ruining our reputations and taking away our natural insides: our humanity, our feelings, sanity, happiness. The power of the Capitol over the districts.
Being the girl who ripped out a person's throat and was continually looking to kill became my ego. No one thought I'd have the same feelings as Haymitch and Seeder and Malachi and Cecelia and the other sentimental victors. Sometimes I try to lose my self in my acts, to become a pawn of the Capitol, but I can't. The district part of me refuses to move to a new home.
Slowly, everything began to build up like lead or mercury inside me. When that girl on fire held up the berries, my heart skipped a few beats before steadying itself again. I can't tell the Capitol if I'm to survive.
When they announced the Quell, I felt like a really dormant volcano holding back, waiting. At the reaping, they call Lyme, so expected. I know that my volunteering won't be a surprise, so I step up.
Holding back gets harder and harder. The victors are obviously planning something, and I want to join. I never tell Brutus, though, since the Capitol will hear. Everything I do becomes monitored, everything made just like how a fierce, submissive to the Capitol victor would do.
When Cashmere and Gloss die, all their beauty ruined by that ax and arrow, I want to kneel down and cry and curse the Capitol. Instead, I start making plans to get the other victors killed. I spy on everything they say, since I'm light and fast.
I hear of a plan to kill Brutus and me with that wire Beetee got. We relocate immediately.
That same night the hovercraft came in, Brutus and Chaff are killed. Accidents? No, homicide. I was on the tree, trying to kill Finnick Odair.
Now I'm on the hovercraft with Johanna and Peeta. They're chained up and gagged, while I'm simply stuck in a corner. Johanna looks so angry that I want to apologize, get up and remove her bonds, but I smile instead. It's probably the first true smile I've given in public. I don't rue it.
Staying alive becomes harder. I have convince Snow that every move, every breath, everything I do is for the Capitol. It's excruciatingly hard but I'm interested in keeping my life. Eventually they let me free into District 2, the only district that is with the Capitol.
When D2 starts rebelling, I know I'm not just in danger from the Capitol. There's the rebels too. It becomes harder to hide, with two sets of people after you. With the districts, I act like I'm aligned with them, if only barely. To the Capitol, I profess loyalty.
Finally the rebellion is over. The victors vote on if another Hunger Games should be held, but it's with the Capitol.
I don't think I should say yes. But it might not be safe yet, so I say yes anyway. As uncaring and indifferent as possible.
The president is assassinated, I'm sent back to District 2, to my house. I get to keep my previous winnings, because it's my money, after all. It's enough to keep me comfortable.
I farm with the rest anyway. I cook food. I open up my inside, and learn to smile with my mouth closed. I become "human". My scales tip. I do what I feel.
Some nights, I want to leave.
How'd I do? Please evaluate.
