I won't let it get to me no more
I don't wanna feel this way
I can't believe I let it go so far
No no, it's not okay
Taffeta Linen, 18
District Eight Female
For people like me, you would think that High School would be the best years of your life. It's easy and fun when you are a likable person. But that's the thing, I am way more than just likable. Being likable is for ugly girls. I, Taffeta Linen, am perfection. Being perfect, though, makes High School a mahogany brick jungle.
Don't get me wrong, it definitely has its perks. People would do nearly anything to be considered part of my circle and it's entertaining watching them run around like hamsters on wheels to be my friend. However, being of such high status at school means that there are always going to be people who are jealous and try to bring me down. Good luck to them, though, I don't go down without a fight, ever.
"Look, there she goes, the bitch of District Eight," some girl whispers as I walk by her in the courtyard at school.
I put one foot in front of the other and slowly turn around, sending my long caramel hair flowing.
"I'm sorry, what did you just say?" I ask her, tilting my head and smiling.
"Oh, um. I didn't say anything important. I was just talking to my friend," she says, taking a few steps back.
"Oh, that's good. I thought I heard something but it must have just been your eyebrows crying for help," I say matter of factly.
If she wants to call me a bitch, I will gladly show her one. The girl slowly brings her hand up to her eyebrows and smoothes them, before turning her back and running down the dimly lit hallway.
"That was harsh T, I loved it!" Maybelline giggles and flips her short blonde hair over her shoulder.
Maybelline is my closest friend. It's hard to find people that match up to my status, but she had no trouble fitting right in. She helps with all my dirty work and sometimes even surprises me. She is not a nice girl, but that is exactly why it is so important to keep her by my side. She can do the dirty work and be hated, while I stand in the background planning everything while still appearing innocent. That way, people still love me. It's a win- win situation.
The bell rings, and everyone scrambles to the last class of the day.
My last class is fashion design and usually, I love this class. Designing clothes is the purest form of self-expression. The way you dress shows people the way you feel about yourself, so it's important to dress well. Believe it or not, I like making people feel good about themselves so designing clothes is something that I can see myself doing for the rest of my life. I guess they couldn't have placed me in a better district. I am a Linen, after all.
I am sewing the inseam on a pair of jeans that I have been working on when Miss Bailey announces that it is time to clean up as the final bell is about to ring. The rest of my classmates scatter and clean up their supplies as quickly as they can, but I keep my foot on the pedal and let the slow hum of the sewing machine keep me focused.
The bell blares over the loudspeaker and the other students scurry out. Miss Bailey looks over at me and crosses her arms.
"Taffeta, Sweetie. It's time for you to go. I love your passion for my class but I have tests to grade and projects to look over."
My stomach sinks as soon as I remove my foot from the pedal.
"Do you need help grading?" I ask her, smiling hopefully.
"Oh always so sweet dear, but I am nearly through. I will see you back here on Monday though. Have a great weekend!" She walks away, and sits at her desk, leaving me alone in the center of the room.
The whole walk home, Maybelline talks about how horrendous Sarah's pants were today and how she clearly has no respect for herself, I laugh because her pants were really awful, but my mind is in other places. When we reach my house, I give her a quick hug and drag myself to the front door, stopping and taking a deep breath before I walk through.
"Please tell me that you didn't go to school wearing that!" My aunt throws her head back in laughter. "You look like a hippo," She says, looking me over before returning to her tv show.
"I thought it was cute," I say under my breath.
"You also think that your makeup skills are decent when you actually look like a thirty-three year old hooker who has been smoking for her whole life. Lay off the powder, sweet cheeks," she says.
She is the sole reason that I try to stay late in class and avoid coming home at all costs. I would like to say that she was just in a bad mood today, but her insults and blows are an everyday thing.
It wasn't always like this. There was a time when I was a girl who could care less about her appearance and what people thought of her. That girl was sweet and friends with everyone. She loved being at home and loved spending time with her family. I don't know that girl anymore, though. When my aunt moved in after her house burned down, she went away and I haven't even gotten a glimpse of her.
When she first moved in, she took it upon herself to put me on a strict weight loss plan because she didn't like the way that I looked. She would portion my food out and remind me every single day that I was fat, worthless and ugly. As much as I tried not to let it get to me, I was still a young girl and eventually I let her comments win.
The straw that rubs the camel's back was when she used all the physical strength to push my nose down, breaking it in the process.
The past three years of my life have taken a toll on me. Don't get me wrong, I still tell myself that I am perfection and I would do almost anything to make sure that my peers still believe that I think I am perfect but when I am all alone at night, I hate myself.
If other people think that I have everything together and that my life is perfect, maybe one day I will start to believe it too.
So when you're caught in a landslide
I'll be there for you, I'll be there for you
And in the rain, give you sunshine
I'll be there for you, I'll be there for you
Malyck Ferris, 17
District Eight male
"Congratulations to the graduating class! On the count of three, you may all throw your caps in the air! 1...2… BEEP."
The sound of my alarm blaring is so loud that it causes my eardrums to bleed and my dreams to die. I have been having this dream every single night for the past month. I am so close to graduating and starting a career. The long robe is draped around me and the tassel hangs in front of my face. My name has just been called and I walk across the stage and collect my diploma. I can feel the joy bursting from my cheeks. The principal is congratulating us and counting down the legendary hat toss. I take my hat off and grasp it tightly in my hand, getting ready to release it and then my alarm goes off, taking my intellectual dreams with it.
When my dad lost his job and asked me to drop out of school, I was heartbroken. I enjoyed school, it was the light of my life. Not to toot my own horn, but I am very intellectual and I thoroughly enjoy things that challenge my brain to think outside of the box. While leaving the education system was ultimately disheartening, I understood why I had to do it and did so without complaint.
I wake up every morning to the sound of the same alarm clock and go to the same dead end job with the same people every day of the week. Having such a set and stone routine bores me and makes me want to pull my hair out, but I do it for my family.
I am able to fully comprehend the fact that in a society such as Panem, doing what you are told is key. The ultimate goal is surviving this miserable life and the key to doing that is biting your tongue, doing what you are told and avoiding the Peace Keepers at all costs.
By no means do I agree with the Capitol instilling fear in all of its citizens in the form of child combat, but I have observed how they work and I know that in order for me to have the most successful life possible, it is important that I keep my mouth closed.
The walk down the hallway to the bathroom seems longer than normal today and I trudge the whole way there. My dream has been taking the energy right out of me this past month, but I can't let it slow me down.
I turn the faucet on as cold as it will go and splash the icy water all over my face, focusing on my heavy eyes. As I am washing away the dream, there is a light tap on the broken and battered bathroom door.
"Malyck, what is for breakfast?" My little brother asks me, rubbing his tired eyes.
"What are you doing up so early, you don't have school today!" I tell him, ruffling his hair.
"Your alarm woke me up too, I thought we could have breakfast together," there is still a hopeful light that shines in his eyes and I love that about him. I hope to work hard enough so that light never dulls.
"Well, buddy, let's go find something," I tell him, drying my face with a tattered and torn towel. I scoop him up and we head to the kitchen.
This is nothing new, but any time that I get to spend with my little brothers now means a lot to me. It's important to me that they still know what love is despite not having a motherly figure in their lives. She made the rash decision to abandon her family when we were all young. This impulsive behavior created a deep void in our family and caused my dad to have to be gone for longer hours at the carpet factory. I was left with my brothers, but I understood and I never held it against my dad or the little ones.
I don't know the reason why she left, my father chose not to disclose that information and eventually I stopped asking, but it is always in the back of my mind. My life could have been so much different had she stuck around and done what a mother is supposed to do for a family. I might be in college, or at a career earning a living for myself and my family. I might be living my dream of using my intellect for a good cause, but instead, I am following in my dad's footsteps and working at a carpet factory.
My life isn't ideal, but I am still a dreamer and the most important thing to me, is to make sure that my little brothers know that dreams aren't too far out of reach. You do what you have to do in the present, but you keep your mind on the future the whole time.
"How do pancakes sound, little guy?" I ask him, pulling flour and sugar out of the cupboard.
"Pancakes are only for special days," he says looking down.
"Today is a very special day," I tell him, standing him up on a chair next to me so that he is able to help me make breakfast.
"Why?" He looks up at me obviously dazed.
"Today is special because we say so. Any day can be special if you want it to be," I wink at him and pour the flour into the bowl, creating a huge white cloud. Joe looks up at me with a huge smile on his face.
"I love you Malyck," he says, wrapping his small arms around my neck.
A lot of people might say that I have a false sense of reality, but that is not the case at all. Life is like a complicated game. You have to have strategies and a game plan to keep going. I am smart enough to know that the key to keeping my family going is hope, even if I don't always believe it. If you strategize and use your brain, your dreams aren't always going to be dreams.
What do you know about me?
Do you wanna know what I think?
Mean girls, mean girls
I'm a just comb you outta my curls
Taffeta Linen, 18
District Eight Female
"You know, people would still like you if you were nice to people," Mylo tells me, pulling my hair back into a high ponytail and securing it with a light blue ribbon.
"People will see me exactly how my Aunt Marlene sees me if I let my guard down even for one second," I tell her, coating my eyelashes with sticky black goo. "Weak and insufficient."
"No one would think that. You aren't a mean girl like you put off at school and I wish more people got to see the side of you that I see," She says, pulling away and taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
Mylo is gentle and kind and sometimes it makes me want to be that way too, but I've seen where that gets her and that is nowhere. Being kind is hard when you are pretty too. People will see you as a target and they will walk all over you. I've just been through enough in my life and being seen as weak is something that I am not okay with.
"Well, I appreciate your advice Mylo. Good luck at the reapings later. See ya," I don't give her the chance to answer me, as I quickly exit the room. I don't care about most people's feelings, but I do care about hers so I had to get out of there before I said something that I would regret later on.
I fluff my hair and begin the trek to meet my friends before the reapings. My little suede cross body bag hits my hip with each step I take and my boots make a click-clack sound on the pavement. It will let people know that I am coming so that they can get their applause ready. I reach down into my bag and dig around for my peach lip gloss. When my hand finally secures it, I look back up and run right into the same girl who called me a bitch at school yesterday, only this time her eyebrows are freshly waxed.
"What the hell, you psychopath. Watch where you're going. You almost made me deep throat my lip gloss," I scream at her.
"Isn't that like a normal Saturday night for you?" her friend pipes up.
"You can't talk to her like that!" says, hairy.
"I don't know, ask your boyfriend," I spout back at her as I push them both out of my way and continue strutting down the street.
You would think that sooner or later, people would learn to respect those higher in nobility than them, but I guess it takes some people longer to realize it.
"Taffeta, you look amazing!" my friends ooh and aww as I arrive.
"I didn't ask for compliments to be shoved down my throat, but I know," I say, waving them off. "Let's go get these dumb reapings over with so we can get back to focusing on the more important thing in life, like me," I say.
All my friends start walking in front of me which gives me a second to compose myself. I don't like the part that I have to play all the time, but it keeps me at the top so it's necessary. I've hit rock bottom at home and I refuse to be that low on the social ladder too.
"Hopefully one of the ugly girls gets picked!" I shout and bask in all the giggles that follow.
I know your hope is heavy but
You'll get over it
You'll find another life to live
I know you'll get over it
Malyck Ferris, 17
District Eight Male
"Please don't go!" Joe says, wrapping his body around my legs so that I can't walk.
"Awh come on buddy, I'll be back before you know it. We can even go outside and play a game when I get back," I tell him.
"Cool!" he shouts, running down the hallway to his room.
"How are you feeling about today?" My dad asks from the kitchen table. He has his head in his hands and he looks really nervous. His foot is tapping and sweat is collecting on his upper lip.
"I'm.. I'm just nervous about today," He says fidgeting.
"Why dad? According to statistics, there is a slim to none chance that anyone from our family will be chosen. We have done pretty well for ourselves and we stay under the radar enough," I tell him patting him on the back before washing my dishes.
"Malyck.." he starts.
I turn around just as he is crumpling a torn up piece of paper in his hands.
"What is that?" I ask him.
"Don't worry about it," he hesitates, hugging me quickly and leaving the kitchen.
I shrug it off, but he is obviously hiding something and as soon as I get home, I am going to figure out what it is. I would like to say that it didn't bother me, but the whole way to the reapings, that piece of paper is in the back of my mind.
At the reapings, the air is tense and the area is quiet. People are looking at the ground and scurrying to find the place where they are supposed to wait for their fate.
Finally, the escort walks onto the stage. She doesn't look strange like some of the other escorts that I have seen on TV. She is actually relatively beautiful. She has long blonde hair and bright green eyes. Her skin is fair and is dotted with freckles. She just looks out of place.
"Welcome… Welcome!" she says, awkwardly. "This is a very exciting time in… in… your lives!" she starts, obviously faking a smile. "Let's not waste any time and just get right into the action!" I cringe when she speaks.
She walks quickly to the large glass bowl with the names of the males tributes written across them and draws the first slip that her frail fingers touch.
"Give a hand for your name tribute.." she trails off, she looks up and her hand flies over her mouth. She quickly composes herself but her voice is shaking as if she might cry.
"Your male tribute for this year's hunger games is Malyck Ferris!" She says.
My knees start to shake and I can't feel my feet. This can't be happening. I have responsibilities, I have things to do! I realize that standing there isn't going to change my fate so I shakily walk up to the stage, politely declining her invitation to speak.
"Well, let's keep it going," she says with a tear rolling down her cheek. This woman is weird.
"Your female tribute is Taffeta Linen!" she says this time with little emotion.
Screams erupted from the eighteen-year-old section. A pretty girl pushes the girl next to her and begs her to go in her place. She falls to the ground and lets out scream after scream. Finally, the PeaceKeepers drag her to the stage. She seems to have composed herself a lot by the time they finally get her there.
"You're Taffeta Linnen?" The escort asks her.
"Duh, you read my name you idiot. You didn't even tell us yours, you just sentenced us to our deaths like it's something completely casual!" Taffeta screams at her.
"Oh dear, my apologies. My name is Gina Ferris," she says looking directly at me, tears welling in her eyes.
"Mom?" I ask as they lead me away.
Well here is District Eight! I loved writing these two. They were really fun to play around with! Thank you so much to the submitters for trusting me with your babies!
I know these chapters are pretty spaced out, but now that my semester is calming down a bit I should be able to get these reapings done and move along with the story.
Thank you so much to the people that are still reading this story. You have no idea how much it means to me.
What did you think?
Who was your favorite?
Predictions?
XOXO
Jenna
QOTD: What is your favorite tv show?
