Destruction ;; Theme One: Love
It is the love that makes this country. It is the love that destroys this country.
When they first created this terror that is aptly named the "Hunger Games", none of us really took it seriously. We were weak and helpless, yes, but the Capitol wasn't much more. However, seeing our children on that fuzzy television screen changed our minds. This was no longer a naïve joke. This was serious, and there was nothing we could do about it.
It would be so much better without love. Without love, we could watch our children kill each other and feel just indifference; emptiness. Love has strings tied to it. With love also comes grief, hate, sadness, and terror that is not your own. Perhaps love is not such a good thing after all. You hear people talking about the magic of love; the accelerated beating of the heart, the warm, fiery feeling that you supposedly get in your stomach. When I hear these words; I hear madness. Complete, utter madness.
I used to hold my son at night; kiss him, tuck him into bed, tell him everything was going to be all right. Which, of course, was a lie. Nothing will ever be all right. Love means lying to the ones you hold dear.
I used to walk my son to school in the mornings. He would be tired from waking so early, but nonetheless bright and cheerful. However, every year there would be two less parents to be seen at school. Two less parents with no child to walk. In fact, they would not only disappear from the school grounds, but from the district all together. If you did see them, the sadness in their eyes is unmistakable. Love means remorse is coming; sooner or later.
I used to make my son dinner in the evenings. When he got home from school, he would always ask what was for dinner. Sometimes there wouldn't even be a dinner, but he wouldn't complain. Sometimes I'd give him my meal to make sure that my growing boy had enough to eat. Love means sacrifice.
I used to love my son. The Hunger Games took him from me, when he was only fifteen. I still cry about it at night. They say crying is for children, but our children don't cry when they're sent to their deaths. Some do, of course. They try not to. I don't. I sob until there are no more tears to fall. I know I am not the only one who does so. We all love our children; we love them with all our hearts. When they are taken away from us, sent to their deaths, we weep. We weep because we are not strong.
Those who say love is a strength are fools. Love is not a strength. Love is a weakness; yet only the parents of the dead realize this.
Love destroys the districts, thus, it destroys us.
