Gilbert Dongalls, 15
District Six Male
He glares at the empty beer bottle that's been left in the hallway by his father - it's not broken, but there's a crack running up the side of the brown bottle from being thrown onto the floor after the contents inside were empty. He hates the look of the bottle, he hates the alcohol, he hates everything that took his father away from him and killed his brother last year.
His hand grabs the bottle and smashes it against the side of the wall, the shards ricocheting through the bedroom hallway and onto the carpet. One flies past his arm and opens up a long, thin red line of blood before falling onto the floor, and Gilbert instinctively throws up his hands over his face to make sure it doesn't get in his eyes. When the glass settles, he looks at the mess of glass all over the shag carpet that Akira tries but fails to keep clean for the family.
Then he goes to the closet, gets a used and worn broom, then starts to sweep up the mess.
By the time he has all of the glass in the dustpan - he's checked around the carpet to make sure that all of the glass is gone. Gilbert's nothing but careful when it comes to this sort of thing - the front door opens and Akira walks in with a bag of groceries. She waves to Gilbert and places the bag on the counter. "We're having chicken tonight! The store had a discount that we could afford! Chicken, Gilbert! Are you cleaning up after Dad again?"
"Something like that." Gilbert dumps the glass into the garbage can before she has a chance to question him, then goes to help put the groceries away. "How was work?"
Akira shakes her head while taking a carton of eggs and putting it into their fridge. The light doesn't turn on anymore when she opens the door, so she squints at the contents of the fridge in the fading light of the evening before plopping the carton next what looks like a bottle of milk. "Work was work. We're always packaging things up and sending it to other districts, so at least there's some variety in the job. But the factory is starting to lay off a few employees as they're transitioning to City 2, so it's going to only get harder to keep working there. At least I have the janitorial job with the school, I can keep cleaning there when their official janitor has a day off and keep us fed. Dad..."
"Is still Dad." Gilbert finishes the thought for them both. "So, will we eat now and settle down for the rest of the night? I have a bit of homework left to finish."
"You don't ever do your homework." Akira looks over at Gilbert, a suspicious look forming on her face before she lights up. "Oh! It's tonight! You have to get your therapist in, uh," Akira checks her watch, the scuffed glass showing them both that it's half past six. "Thirty minutes - hurry up! We have to hurry if we're going to make it there on time!"
Thirty minutes later, Akira opens the door for Gilbert and they walk into the office of the therapist. "Remember, just be honest. The therapist had a degree and everything, Gil, he can help you. Maybe he'll have some new strategy for you today. We can hope, right?"
Gilbert glances down at his arms. "I guess."
The therapist, a young-ish man in his thirties, opens the door and gives Gil a big grin. "I'm ready when you are!"
"Alright." Gil tries to not slump his shoulders too much as he walks into the room and away from the eyes of Akira. She looks more tired than she used to be.
"Take a seat in whatever you want. Would you like a stress ball again?" Gil takes his pick of the comfortable chairs to sit in, and the therapist holds out a tray of brightly coloured balls. "Whatever one you want."
Gil picks an orange one, kneading it with his palms as the therapist flips to a new page in his notepad. "Thanks, Mr. Seymour."
"You can always call me Marshall if you want to," the therapist offers. They both know that Gil will continue to call Marshall the same way. "Now, has anything happened in the past few days?"
"Not really," Gil mutters. He focuses on squishing the stress ball into as small of an object as he can, grunting with efforts as he squeezes his hands together. "My sister has been more stressed lately about work, and Dad still doesn't have a job. It doesn't stop him from drinking though. He leaves glass bottles in the hallways for Akira and I to pick up when he finally passes out in his room, just like how - how -"
"How?" Marshall asks gently, waiting for Gil to open up.
"Like how, you know..." Gil flushes. "I don't want to talk about it like last time." A few weeks ago, Marshall had offered to watch some of the parade from the Games last year and Gil couldn't, he wouldn't watch it with him. It's so hard now to even think of Tony, think of all of the things that Gil could have said to him to mend their relationship but didn't.
When Tony left, they were all broken.
No, he doesn't want to think about it.
"And that's alright," Marshall asks. "Have you had any more thoughts when you're alone?" Gil doesn't like to talk about the scars on his arm, but it's the reason that Akira got a fourth job to save up for therapy twice a week. When she had found him in his bedroom with the broken piece of glass and the bloody -
No, he doesn't want to think about that either.
"Not really. I guess it comes up every once in a while, but I try to ignore it."
"I'm going to let you bring a few stress balls home today. Whenever you're feeling stressed or overwhelmed about any situation, just take one out and fiddle around with it. I do it myself when I'm at home - when your hands are idle, it's hard to focus on things that you need to get done. How many would you like?" Marshall asks, and Gil takes three. The rest of the session passes quickly, almost too quickly for Gil's tastes, and he sighs when it's time to head home. He might try to avoid it, but these talks are the only time when he really does want to talk about things.
"Thanks, Mr. Seymour. I'll see you on Friday." Marshall smiles and waves as Gil closes the door, and Akira looks up from the chair in the waiting room that she's been sitting in over the half-hour. She looks like she's been sleeping.
"Are we ready to go?" Akira asks, yawning as she rises from the chair and grabs her bag. "I put the chicken on a low temperature at home, so it'll be ready just in time."
"Yeah," Gil says. He looks towards the street, back to the house that's littered with broken beer bottles and memories of their brother. Back to the home where he tries not to cry whenever he passes Tony's room.
Back to where he and Akira can remember that even though it feels like they've lost everything, they're still a family.
Yeah, he would like to go home.
Another intro! Vr, I hope this is suitable for your wishes for Gil - he'll be v fun in the arena, imo. We'll see how he does!
Thoughts? Feelings? Any excitement that we're getting closer to finishing our intros? I'm excited to see what you all think of the Capitol - we'll get there sooner than you think!
I'll see you all soon with the next intro. Enjoy. Until then, TheAmazingJAJ