Blahhhhhhhh. School + soccer + homework = no time to write. I hate it so much. I have no time to do anything.
Ugh, I can never make up my mind about ANYTHING and that's not even exaggerating. I hate it. I have a problem.
(Oh, and the song lyrics idea was inspired by wjjmwmsn5)
When your dreams all fail
And the ones we hail
Are the worst of all
And the blood's run stale
- Demons, by the Imagine Dragons
Count on Me
Seraphina (Sera) Garroway (14)
The Training Arena was interesting enough. Or, at least, no one seemed like they were feeling apathy. In fact, most seemed awfully giddy despite the fact that they were throwing knives and spears at life-size cut outs of people. It was almost sickening, the way they threw. With such accuracy you would've assumed they were Careers.
No, not careers, not quite, I remind myself and work on the fire I've been trying to build, just to keep my hands busy. Frustration takes over me as I curse under my breath and throw the 14th match down next to the other broken ones. Everyone thinks building a fire is so simple, but it's not. Unless you have tried it, you can't really say how easy it is, can you?
I walk away from the station, the scent of smoke surrounding me as I walk past successful fires by different tributes. The smell of ash is revolting, and I nearly choke trying to escape. I stop to watch one fire in particular, the orange and red flames leaping and dancing. The tribute puts a green leaf on the fire and it begins to burn and make a crackling noise. The green on the leaf also makes smoke and I have to walk away before I gag.
(A/N: OKAY THIS STORY IS PISSING ME OFF. I am unhappy with many things, such as: the characters, the plot, my thoughts of what will happen, what has happened, how boring it is, how it's taking away from other things. Don't try to make me stop, and don't review on this chapter. If anything, PM me. But you aren't stopping me from either deleting this story or putting it on hiatus. UPDATE: I have decided on putting this story on hiatus.)