I'm not scared of death, because everyone is born to die. No matter who you are or where you come from, it doesn't matter. There are no exceptions, no cures, no-one is spared from the fate that seems so far away. So you shouldn't be scared of death, when it comes you should worship it, because life is too precious to worry about what will happen. I will say how we are forced to live is unfair, because I'm not scared of them killing me. Living like we used to, the way we used to hundreds of years ago, when we were free, is worth more than mine or anyone else's life. So why are we still living like this?
Another Spark-The 93rdVictor.
Chapter 2.
Ryez's point of view (Again).
Dedication: Squintz, who did BETA for this chapter and the previous one.
Disclaimer- I own nothing, but I would appreciate it if you didn't copy and paste this, I have a lawyer! Maybe.
Authors note- Will come at the end, a little bit of bribery to make you read all the way through;).
Shout out to my reviewers: (because it is so important to thank them, as they inspire me to write. If you review, you might get one back. Not trying to be desperate or anything :P).
ImmyRose- Thank-you so much for the long review which actually had criticism, I love criticism. Check out her stories, she is very talented.
AuthorGemorah- A good friend of mine, thank-you for the review, and remember, it's meant to be sad! Hope this one isn't too sad… it's mainly boring talky stuff. Check out her Annie/Finnick fic (my favorite pairing). It's awesome, and I'm jealous of her for updating so much.
Sandy- Thank-you! And your 'poor baby Sapphire' comment made me smile (no I am not a psychopath), but that is what I was going for. It's meant to be depressing. Sorry for the long wait.
If you have ever slept in a tree, unlikely but possible, you would probably think it would be a good idea to tie yourself to it, so you don't fall out and plummet a long way to the floor and probably die.
Especially if you have nightmares, which might just cause you to thrash around in panic and maybe just fall out.
But somehow, I always wake up in the exact same position I dozed off in when I sleep in trees; even if I am not tied to it. It is almost like I am paralyzed when I am dreaming, whilst my mind taunts me and haunts me for whatever bad stuff have done in this pitiful life.
I suppose it will be a plus side in the Games, at least I won't fall out of any trees and get stabbed to death by the nearest tribute. That's if I don't wake up practically screaming every morning.
If I even survive until morning...
Anyway, I don't like being tied up. It makes me feel rather imprisoned. Well, I do live in the beautiful Panem, and one of the most lenient districts, but nonetheless.
In a colorful, one of its kind oasis, slap-bang in the middle of the bone dry, pretty useless desert with nothing but pointless sand and rocks in sight, is a tree. At the top of the tree sits me, Ryez, looking down at the peculiarly crystal clear lake and trying to prepare myself for the joyous events the next few weeks will bring.
When my father was executed, he truly did leave me the best will ever. Everybody hating me, and I get to go into the Games, yay me! Thank-you daddy! That makes me love you even more, and worship all the scars you gave me!
The lake below me is the only source of water for miles. It would be a helpful source, if it didn't taste like salt, and make you hurl every time you drank some. I don't see why though, it's not like someone is just going to come along and pour a load of salt into a perfectly good, well acceptable, lake. I mean it's a rarity for goodness sake. I guess normal people are stupider than I originally supposed, if that is possible.
I have been awake for a while now, my huge, kind of distant, green eyes staring at the same point in the lake for what seems like hours, as if it hurts to shift my gaze.
I just can't move. I just have to organise my scared thoughts and useless ideas and try to think of a good plan, and try not to think of the fact that I will more than likely be dead in the next few weeks; joining wherever mother, Maiz and Sapphire are, because they were the good ones. It makes me love my father even more, if that is even possible.
Just thinking of the lake and water made me instantly thirsty and crave for some liquid to appear and slither down my dry throat. Even though the sun hasn't even risen yet, it is so humid that I still feel like I have been set on fire. Just like her.
I try to resist the salty tear dripping down my face as I remember tiny, innocent Sapphire's death; But it still falls anyway, it doesn't care if it is stomping all over my pride. My cheeks are still damp and my eyes still itchy from the endless night of haunting, I suppose one more tear won't weaken me too much.
I wipe it away quickly, because I have to stay strong for them. Is it heartless not to cry when you think of your six-month-old sister's murder? Is it weak? I don't know, and I almost don't care at the moment, because surviving the next few weeks and trying to overthrow the Capitol is my only concern right now, my only priority, and it's all for them. So I guess it isn't heartless.
The tree I'm perched in is pretty tall, and on the end of its thick branches grows huge, juicy, colorful fruits in deep oranges and fruity yellows. Again, they would be a helpful food source if they weren't poisonous. You drop dead practically the minute you sink your teeth into its skin.
At least when I found the fruits I had the sense to test them by feeding one to an animal before eating them myself. It is a good job, because I wouldn't be anything more than a rotting carcass if I hadn't.
I bet you would all be devastated.
However, the tree at least protects me from the scorching sun and who knows what else lurks around in the sand below me.
It's what I call home. This statement only made me laugh, because everything in life is just too funny. Home is wherever Maizie is, and she wasn't here last time I checked, because the Capitol took her from me. Oh the joys of life.
I once tried to jump out of this tree, as you can't climb or even slither down because there is nothing to hold on to. It is much quicker than lowering yourself down carefully to the floor using a rope. It didn't end well; it gave me another 'excuse' to go back into town, which isn't such a treat when everyone who lives there wants to rip my now relatively cold heart out of my chest.
I have to force myself to move, and I try to convince myself that I am refusing to get out of this tree because I'm 'tired' or 'not feeling great', yet we all know it's because I don't want to attend the reaping. I don't think anyone does, and if they do want to, then they deserve to go into the games and die. All the girls eligible for the reaping, like me, will be shaking in terror and probably crying right now. Shame it's going to be wasted as I am the one going to face my death, not those pathetic bitches. You don't see me crying, huh?...
It isn't that I am scared of death, I don't know what it is really, because I'm not scared or anxious or anything, but I still have to go into the games. I have to avenge them; I have to stop this from happening, even if it kills me.
Therefore, I don't have a choice, I'm going to die even if I don't attend the reaping, they -meaning the heartless peacekeeper freaks who are employed by (guess who), the Capitol people to murder innocent people (with the exception of my father, but still)- will find me and slaughter me, because they don't have feelings.
I'm definitely not scared of them, well maybe I am a little, but I don't tell myself that because I have to be strong. I still force myself to tie myself to the rope and jump off. It is kind of exhilarating, but I am way, way, way beyond acknowledging the actual emotions that make me care.
I grab the only thing that keeps me physically alive, my rucksack, which is secured safely to a nearby branch. It takes seconds until I am on the ground and perching on a big rock by the lake.
Sometimes, when I am feeling lonely, I pretend I am an elegant mermaid sitting on this, like the ones Maizie used to tell me lived in District Four. Immature, right? Well, a mermaid who wants to slit everyone's throats for killing my family, but you get the picture.
I'm joking. I am really not some freakish psychopath, maybe.
I am always cautious of this oasis, although not many peculiar animals actually come here because of the faulty water, there are always exceptions. When they do I try my best to kill them with my small, but potentially deadly knife I keep in my pack. I am not always successful, but I try.
There have been multiple occasions where I have been so close to dying because one of those things, usually some kind of miracle-it's-survived mutt, tries to attacks me.
One time, some long, sausage-shaped, rubbery looking, colorful thing bit me. I actually still don't know what it was, but the way it slithered through the sand hissing made me feel instantly uneasy.
Because of its thin like structure and my exceedingly bad aim when throwing a knife, I wasn't able to kill it before it attacked me. Aw, bummer.
I had to go to town then, for help, and then I had to explain why I had an 'unknown bite' on my hand. It was personally my recognition of hell on earth, if earth wasn't hell already. I managed to escape the majority of questions, but people still glared at me and whispered what you would call hurtful, but I would call pathetic remarks.
One man even held a knife to my throat because 'I' killed his mother. Do I really look like him?
I guess I would have ran away by now, ran away from this horrible district in which everybody hates my guts. I would have ran away from this horrible world long ago. I would have, I really would if I could actually survive by myself.
There is nothing but desert for miles outside the district boundaries, no safe water, plants or any form of life for what seems like forever. Of course, because even Mother Nature is punishing me.
There is nowhere for me to go, accept for my oasis, even if I did have any survival skills. So I guess I either stay here, or die. Considering my several suicidal attempts, it was actually a tricky decision, but I have to avenge them.
At least I don't have to worry about the force-field though, and I get to have at least a little peace. (Hang on, it's coming).
Apart from having to go back to the town to get clean water, I have to 'borrow' food and other supplies too. It is going to be a great help in the Games, not knowing anything about how to survive you know.
At least sneaking around, may be of little use. Stealing has made me agile, quick and fox-like, as Maizie used to say, even though she was ashamed and of the things we had to do to survive.
Other than this advantage, and my relatively sly personality, I have nothing. I have tried to prepare for my death, I practiced with knives in my spare time, which I am hopeless at. Survival skills? None, accept I managed to tie a pretty secure knot after several failed attempts, does that count? What about weapons? Nope, I have little experience. I practiced some hand to hand combat moves, which I had witnessed when two men were fighting. I copied some of their moves and tricks and fortunately I'm not that bad at it. Maybe I will live past the first five minutes!
In my dreams.
Oh great, I have just missed out the most important detail, I don't actually live in District Nine.
I bet you are all gasping under your breath now, well, save it. I don't really know where I am right now; all I know is that I am outside District Nine's force-field.
I can feel you thinking: "What the …..? How corny is this story going to get? How the hell is she going to walk through a freaking force-field?"
If you want me to answer honestly, then I will. The answer is I actually don't have a clue. I can just miraculously walk through unlike no-one else, it's kind of creepy.
That's why I live here, in the desert, only because I can go through the force-field and escape everyone for a little while. But it isn't long before all of the memories and pain come tumbling back to me, I guess I was never really scarred by all these deaths and traumatic experiences, as the wounds they made are plainly still open.
It's strange you know, because I often come across dead bodies lying by the force-field, their eyes glassy and shocked and their faces showing the anger because of the way we are forced to live. It's obvious what they have tried to do, escape. And not out of the district, because they know full well the force-field is invincible. Well, that's what they think. They want to escape this life.
That is if you can see their faces. Usually they are frazzled to the core from walking into it, accidentally or not. Their features are no longer recognizable, which is a little disturbing.
If I was one of those sympathetic, caring people, I would probably feel sorry for those people who are forced to do that, but nah. if people had cared about me maybe I would be different, maybe I would though.
There isn't much way to escape though, other than the relief of the force-field. Only the powerful and superiorpeacekeepers are allowed guns and weapons, (ironic). If you are found with anything other than a blunt kitchen blade, you will be shot on the spot. Even I wouldn't do that, even to my worst enemies, which I have a lot of just for your information. My knife is a rarity.
You are also shot on the spot if you are found trying to escape the district. The very high fence around the front of the district is guarded heavily, and I mean heavily, no exaggeration. What seems like thousands of peacekeepers march up and down like solders, and they watch from towers too, 24/7.
You would think we were prisoners or something.
They don't bother with the back of the district though, where the force-field is. They obviously think their precious invention is invincible, and even if it wasn't, no-one is going to survive in the desert for long. It's like they love us too much to let us leave.
Last year, I would have had nightmares about that stuff for weeks, dead people and frazzled faces and the slight chance I might get shot on the spot, but it has long since stopped affecting me. I don't really care anymore. So what if them shoot me? it's not like I have anything to live for.
It isn't long before the peacekeepers come and remove their rotting bodies, now infested by flies and maggots, from by the force-field, but they're always replaced with new ones the next day.
It is like they never leave, it's like the Capitol are taunting us even more, showing us that they are powerful through dead people, creepy much.
The only reason I discovered my ghost-like power was because I wanted to join those people. I wanted to escape this world, the fear, the pain, and everything else miserable it brings.
As you can see, that did not work out. The people who lie dead by the force-field, having escaped this miserable world, I once longed to be like them. But it is almost like the world needed me for something, they didn't want me dead, they need me for a reason, I have a purpose.
A purpose, Ha-ha. If I could laugh, I would, because everything happens for a reason. If I believed that, it would be like I was so naive to the world, because in this world, no-one cares if you are dead or alive, starving or sick, because that is just the unfair, horrible way we are treated.
Yet, I still can't quite put my finger on why they needed me, why I am alive at this joyful moment. I still have that flicker of hope inside of me, begging to be set alight and burn alive and brightly. Hope is the only thing stronger than fear.
As I was saying, don't laugh at me, but when I first found out I could through the force-field I thought maybe it would work with other things, that I could go through trees and walls and stuff.
I thought that maybe I had an inhuman capability. Yeah, I'm that immature. That turned out with me gaining multiple injuries, just in case you are wondering.
I got out the district's finest bread from my pack, turning my head anxiously like an owl just in case there was any kind of monster about to pounce on me and kill me, despite my 'they need me' theory. Yeah, I have some of the finest clients back in Nine, so I get to soak in so much luxury, yay me.
As I come from the grain district, you are probably presuming that this place is leaking in bread. You could not be more wrong. Pretty much everything goes to the Capitol, so this stuff is a rarity that can only be afforded by the rich, or if you're name just happens to be Ryez Palor.
I guess being me does have perks, however very, very, very few of them.
I hate the Capitol, if we hadn't already established this. They killed my mother, my sister, my niece and my father.
(P.S -even though it isn't the end yet, don't cry- I'm sorry if I sound too depressing, or if my past sounds fictional or something because my past is so horrifying and devastating, but don't cry, I apologize.)
They kill millions of people every year, because they refuse to care or help, because they are selfish. they send 24 children to their death every year, because you are dead if you come out or not. They kill so many more, they leave us starving to death and kill us for saying it isn't fair, or trying to survive. But the thing is, is that it isn't fair. It isn't fair the way the treat us like trash, and not equally, because if you think equality doesn't matter, it does.
They say they care for us, when they are just murdering us, even if they don't have a knife. Maybe that's why we live like this, because everyone doesn't want to stand up for themselves and say this is wrong, because they are scared of death.
I'm not scared of death though, you are born to die, every single one of us is born so we can die. It's the circle, the circle of life.
Well, unless you're President Snow, who seems to stay alive for what seems like eternity. Apparently he has had his brain transplanted into an exact replica of him when he was younger?!
I will say this is unfair, and help everyone else and free them from this horrible life we are forced to live, even if I die.
I may sound pretty selfish so far, pretty uncaring, with the stealing and everything else, but I guess you could say I am not that bad. I want everybody to be free; I don't even wish the horrible people of my district to go through what I have been, or worse. Because living like we used to, the way we used to hundreds of years ago when we were free, is worth more than mine, or anyone else's life.
So why do we still live like this?
The Capitol people think they are so superior, when really they are just cowards. They have everything handed to them, they rely on us for everything and without us they are nothing, so why are we -The people who are forced to work back-breakingly hard for their pleasure- still providing for them? I am not at all intending I am one of those people before you try to criticize me.
They are still punishing us for something that happened nearly a hundred years ago, they are 'punishing' us for their entertainment.
They say our lives are barbaric, when really it is them. They think killing innocent children is entertainment and they are calling us barbaric?! They need to get a reality check, because one day in any of the districts would make them feel like the useless, up themselves bitches (excuse my language) they are.
I would most happily execute them all, painfully, and make them all know what it feels like to walk to your death like I will in a matter of hours. We can all watch them get killed and cheer when they do.
Who's laughing now?
Anyway, don't get me wrong, I would rather not steal from people, no matter how much we hate each other, but it is either that or starve to death. Even though rich people are better than the Capitol people, (it's not really that hard), they are still selfish. They have way too much money and food, when there are people dying on their door steps, they don't deserve anything I take.
If I was one of those miracle children who could hunt animals, knew about edible stuff or any form of survival skills, then I guess I wouldn't have to steal. But those people only belong in books, seriously.
I bit into the bread, my mouth exploding at the taste of it. What a great reaping day treat.
I thought the amazing Capitol people might want to see me in something pretty, hah, like I care. But anyway, yesterday I took a little detour whilst I was in the district, a detour back to my old house.
I don't really know why I went, as it would just bring me weeks of disturbance, if the Games weren't going to bring me that anyway, but I had to. Not for the pretty dress, but because I needed to teach myself to stay strong, I need to try to be emotionless and heartless for the sake of everyone in the whole of Panem. If I feel anything in the arena, I will die and President Snow will continue to punish us.
I placed my sack on the rock and hopped down. I fished around for it, whilst looking around anxiously for any threats at the same time. Woo, I multitasked. I pulled it out, silently barfing to myself.
Believe me, I did not choose to wear this thing, Maizie did. In fact I promised her I would wear it, so I will try to not break that promise, even if she is dead.
I breathed in, the kind I'm-fat-and-I-need-to-be-skinnier kind of suck in, the one we all do when we are trying to fit into thatamazing dress.
Don't try and deny it. It is kind of ironic, huh? (Irony again...) The way I'm just skin and bones, nothing more, nothing less, but I still need to be skinnier. What is society doing to us all?!
I cursed under my breath. This might be the year I can't fit into this freaking reaping dress. I actually might rip the stupid thing to shreds if it doesn't just fasten up.
I yanked the rusty zip up, pulling it with all of my strength trying to get it to close. But, of course it wouldn't budge, another thing to add to my very long list of things that don't like me in this miserable world.
Maybe I would have been able to get the stupid thing to fasten up, that is if I didn't have the patience of a three-year-old.
I'm fourteen, my fifteenth birthday falling in exactly a week and two days, feel free to say happy birthday, because no-one else will.
I glared at the dress, it used to be my mothers, and she used to say it was beautiful. Not in my fourteen long years of existence have I ever called anything beautiful.
Actually, I'm kind of lying there. I did find one thing beautiful once upon a time, my niece's eyes. Her name was Sapphire, if you hadn't already caught on, and her eyes were simply beautiful, huge glowing and the most beautiful shade of aqua-blue. Innocent yet mesmerizing. They were like nothing you have seen, they were... Beautiful.
She's dead now. I bet you didn't see that coming.
In my eyes, the dress is nothing more than a piece of white, now grubby, material. Yes, it has fancy-shmansy elaborate detail that looks like it's been shaved off one of the snotty, horrible rich kids dolls, but so what!
How could something made for this purpose be anything nearbeautiful? Was my mother born in the Capitol or something?! It makes me want to puke, literally!
Usually every word my mother has even muttered means the world to me. I guess knowing my mother thinks the dress is beautiful is quite re-assuring. It has almost calmed me during the last two years of attempting to survive the reaping.
Surviving seemed so much simpler back then. Yeah, most days our small family went to bed with our empty bellies grumbling angrily, but survival then was simplicity in its self. Happiness is the key to life, not food or water.
Even though I am criticizing it, I guess the dress is precious to me. Everything in my old house was burnt until everything had disintegrated into ashes. But by some miracle, this survived.
I had to fight the tears yesterday, and to be honest, I still am. I guess the weak, afraid girl still lingers within me somewhere, even if I am determined to shove it out of my body.
Everything remained unchanged there. The furniture still ashes on the floor, mine and Sapphire's screams ringing in my ears, him laughing and forgetting who he was. It was again like hell on earth, but still just as I left it.
This was unharmed though; it still hung limply in my small wardrobe as if nothing had ever happened. Apart from a few ash marks, you could barely tell it had survived a fire; it is almost like it had a purpose too.
Ha-ha, how naive of me, again.
I gave up with the dress pretty quickly. I really couldn't care less about what the horrible Capitol people think of me, and Maizie wouldn't be that bothered anyway. Well, that is what I tell myself, sometimes, you just have to move on.
Instead, I left my combat pants and a thin t-shirt on. They have been grubby for as long as I can remember, and coated in the blood of a rat-looking thing I had only just managed to kill last week, but they weren't that bad I guess.
I checked my appearance in the reflection of the lake, and no, I am not being vain, in fact I don't know what I'm being. Curious, maybe? My ebony curls hang in a tangled, greasy mess around my shoulders, so I raked through them with my fingers rather carelessly, I couldn't be bothered washing.
My huge, piercing green eyes looked somewhat shocked, but it was as if they were expressing my true feelings, pure and utter hatred. My pupils dilated in fear, which I silently growled about.
I looked the least bit flattering. My clothes were way too big, due to my scrawny, you-can-count-my-ribs figure. Even though I now get enough food, I always seem to stay skinny.
The top is also too short, despite being baggy, because I am pretty tall for my age. I am nearing six foot, 5'11 probably. I don't know how though, my body isn't really the right proportions. Any curves that might have developed haven't. Even if I did have any, they would be hidden by what I liked to call my outfit.
I don't think any boys are going to be taking a fancy to me anytime soon, because I care about that stuff too much. I used to; I used to be part of what I used to call the 'popular cliche' at one of the smaller schools in the district.
I don't go to school anymore; I refused to go after Maizie's death anyway. I just looked after Sapphire for the few weeks before she died, and grieved. This usually involved crying all day or expressing my anger, healthily, by trying to stab and hurt things.
No-one really cared if I was there to be honest. People would whisper and point at me in the streets. 'Remember what she used to be like? So happy and full of joy, I guess her sister's death hit her hard'. This infuriated me, the fake sympathy they would express, and that was before Sapphire's death. That's probably one of the many reasons I hate being in our district.
Even my 'friends' seemed to have turned against me. My ex best friend Lola wouldn't even look me in the eye, she didn't care. I wanted to slit her throat. Nothing new there.
I didn't really care that I didn't attend school anyway, it's not like I am going to do anything with the useless crap we learn there. I am going to die soon, so not much point in indulging in the knowledge (nope, still useless crap) that our wonderful world holds.
'She's the lonely, crazy one' or 'what happened to her?' were other things they would say. I hated them all, they just didn't understand.
I would say this was the reason I moved out of the district, but all their 'sympathy' went out of the window when father did what he did. They would just glare at me, or shout abuse, or worse.
The dress wouldn't calm me this year even if I was wearing it, because a certain man, aka my father, has just practically taken every girls name out of that glass ball and left mine in. I'm not exactly in the mood for feeling reassured or calmed right now, as I will probably be dead in the next week, like the rest of my family.
If my plan works, If I over throw the Capitol, I will probably commit suicide so I can join them.
Wow, slow down Ryez, you haven't even been reaped yet, or even survived the disgusting games! Remember, they key to surviving is to live in the moment.
The funny thing is, is that I don't exactly have a plan. I'm hardly prepared, next to no skills, but I guess I can dream.
Judging by the sun, which is not in sight for your information so don't be thinking I'm all knowledgeable, means it is probably around 6, maybe seven. To get to the district it takes about an hour and a bit. The reaping starts at eleven, and I want to say goodbye to a few people before I get sentenced to my death.
I have to leave here now anyway, if I reach the force-field any later, I could run the risk of running into a peacekeeper, who will probably be guarding the district boundaries to make sure no-one attempts suicide on this precious day. I would get killed before I even got the chance to go into the games, which doesn't actually sound too bad. Accept I have to avenge their deaths, express my hatred for the Capitol, and dying with nobody knowing or caring is the worst thing I could do.
Anyway, going now is better than stayed here, milling around and getting all emotional because I am leaving home.
I sling my pack across my shoulders, but I then decide against it. It will be confiscated when I get to the reaping, the security is tight there. I mean really tight. Last year, they shot a three-year-old for running over to one of the pens to give her brother good luck, then the year before that they killed an 18-year-old girl on the spot for bringing a blunt cutlery knife. They are not even the worst cases.
I just take out the few items I need, a canteen filled with slightly warm but better than nothing, water. I also grab a little bit of food, because I wouldn't like to walk to my death on an empty stomach.
Then I get the most useful thing out, the thing that saves my life and that I treasure. And the thing which is going to make me smilehappily, for probably the last time in my life, the thing that is going to bring me the first bit of revenge, which I will devour immensely, the thing that is called my knife.
I would get my token out of my bag, but it is already on me. It already hangs around my neck like it always does, it's my necklace. The only physical memory I have left of my family.
It's a sapphire, well an emerald and a sapphire. In the middle is a striking forest green emerald, the exact colour of my eyes and my mother's, and what surrounds it is a bright blue sapphire, like Sapphire's eyes and Maizie's. They shine and sparkle, despite a layer of grub covering them. The sapphire guards the emerald, it protects it, and whilst it's there it watches over it, nothing will harm it.
It hangs on a gold chain, which is fading now as it is getting old. Actually, I think it is older than the awesome tradition of the games! I could get so much money for it, buy a decent house and get a job, I'm old enough, but I will never do that. It means too much to me, and I'm pretty comfy here in the desert, well I was.
I take a sip of my water and sigh. This will probably be the last time I see this place, as if I win (very unlikely) the security will be too tight for me to risk coming here. I feel a tear prickle down my cheek, but I don't know why.
I bite my tongue, because I have to stay strong. I begin to stroll through the dry sand, trying not to regret what I am going to do.
I always told myself I would never kill anyone, even before my whole family was taken out of my fragile grasp and murdered. Even after Sapphire was killed, I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't become like my father, no matter how angry I got. Even when I found out I was going to be reaped, when President Snow told me, I swore I wouldn't kill anyone in the games. So far I haven't broken that promise, but promises are made to be broken. I was weak then, I was scared, but I'm not scared, and I need to do this. Is it bad that I always seem to crave to kill something to avenge them?
I try not to regret what I'm about to do, because it will only bring me pain. Forgive me Maizie, I'm sorry. Just please forgive me, I beg you.
Hello readers! I'm so sorry for not updating in ages. It has been what, 3 months?! I feel really bad about it, I'm sorry. I know I'm a terrible author and I shouldn't make excuses… but I have just had so much to do with Christmas and everything, even though it was like a month ago. (merry Christmas, if you celebrate it). I have recently got into Battle Royale and have been reading that and the Maximum Ride series, as well as working on a few one-shots and a BR collaboration with my good friend Music . And . Fanfiction . Rule. Did I mention it takes me so long to write one chapter? Dear the authors who write quickly, I HATE YOU. It took me at least a month to write this.
Check out my Cato one-shot: Victor Is Only a Title, if you are feeling nice, and if you are feeling generous, a review. Oh, I'm sorry I leave really long authors notes, I just feel like I am connecting with you more. So feel free to click back now, after you have reviewed, obviously, if I am annoying you.
Congratulations for reaching the end of this chapter, because I agree that it is very long and very boring. Would you guys prefer me to do shorter chapters with less detail? Anyway, I'm also sorry that not much happens in this. It's 6000 words of Ryez's thoughts with not much else. Shoot me. I know it's boring, but I needed to get you to know her better, so you will have more emotions during the rest of the chapters and so you will feel connected to her.
Originally, I was going to do this in a female from District Four's point of view, but have changed her to a boy as I was afraid her and Ryez would be too similar, that will be in the next chapter by the way. I was also going to do the actual interesting bit at the end of this, but that will come in Ryez's reaping, as it was already 6000 words, misusing this ridiculously long author's note.
PLEASE LEAVE ME FEEDBACK! Because at the moment I'm not even sure if I want to continue this, I need some encouragement.
Oh and if you like Battle Royale, follow me. Even if you have never heard of it, follow me, because it's very similar to THG. It will be coming very soon, as it is literally finished and ready to be uploaded.
Thank-you, goodbye.
