And I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take
When people run in circles it's a very very
mad world.
Henrissa Granan, 17
District Ten Female
"Odette leaned over towards her Maplewood nightstand, careful not to wake Charles. She pressed her lips together and gently blew out the candle that had been illuminating the room, causing shadows to dance across the bare walls. She returned her head to her plump pillow and moved her body backward until her body fit in perfectly with the curves of Charles' body. As she closed her eyes, a smile crept across her face. She was right where she wanted to be."
Silent tears roll down my cheeks as I turn the last page of the latest novel that I had been reading. The ending was beautiful. I love stories where everything works out the way that they are intended to. I love the way that the story represented so well that sometimes the struggles that we face in life lead us to exactly where we need to be. I wipe the tears off of my cheek with the sleeve of my oversized beige sweater. I roll over and turn my light off and just as soon, drift off to sleep.
The chirping of bluebirds wakes me up from a night of peaceful sleep. I nestle down deeper into my blankets, not wanting to get up and go help Thomana with her work on her farm. I did promise her that I would help though and I am a woman of my word so I shut down my pity party and roll out of bed. The tangles in my long hair prevent the brush from running through it quickly and I wince with every pull. I take one last look in the mirror before shrugging back at my reflection in the mirror and heading downstairs.
"Good Morning Princess Rissa," My father says, setting his coffee mug down and peering over the newspaper that he had been reading. "Are you off to bless the world this morning?" He asks, chuckling.
"I wouldn't quite call it that," I say with a smirk.
"She's always been a humble one, that Rissa," my father says with a smile as if I'm not even in the room. "Have fun sweetie! I love you," he says, returning to his newspaper.
I grab an apple off the counter and head out the door. The streets of District Ten are filled with dirt roads, horses and cattle surrounding us on every side. The smell isn't very ideal and there isn't much here but I like to see the beauty in all the Growth and life that happens in our district. I like the security that comes with absolutes, the uncertainty of what the future could become if we try to change things scares me so I just choose to love. Love the district, love the awful smell of manure and love the people that inhabit the place that I call home.
In the clearing right before you get to Thomana's farm, there is always hundreds of cows and a few horses. It is one of my favorite places. I am admiring the openness of the area when I see a group of horses surrounding a bale of hay. They all look so peaceful eating together. I smile at this beautiful scene but a disgruntled neigh startles me. One of the smaller horses is trying desperately to get into the circle so that he can eat but every time he comes close, the bigger horses kick him away. It tugs at my heart strings and my eyes start to tear up.
I scale the brown fence and wince as splinters lodge themselves in my thigh. A nail that was sticking out of the rickety fence slices down my calve. I let out a quiet yelp careful as not to disturb the horses. With a few deep breaths, I stand back up and reach into my pocket for the apple that I had packed. I slowly start moving toward the horses, keeping the small one in my direct line of sight.
"Come here little guy," I coo.
The small horse looks startled but curious. He pins his ears and starts trotting toward me cautiously.
"Don't be afraid," I say, holding out the apple.
When the horse is close enough to touch, I reach out and stroke his nose. His coat is rough but his eyes are gentle and loving. I run my fingers through his mane and before I know it, his forehead is resting on mine. Tears roll down my cheeks. Whether they are from my injuries or from the beauty of this moment, I can't be sure. I hold out the apple and he takes the stem in between his big buck teeth before sprinting off away from the others.
"What the hell are you, a horse whisperer?" Thomana's voice startles me.
"Were you here the whole time?" I ask her, wiping my eyes and giggling.
"I was. I'm not sure what the hell I just witnessed but I have to say, it was very impressive. Your leg is bleeding pretty badly though pippy long stocking, let's go get you cleaned up," she smiles.
"Oh please. I was just helping an innocent animal get some sustenance. It's a tough world out there. Even horses need a little love. Not that you know what that is," I tease her, climbing back over the fence.
"You're not wrong," she jokes, flipping her short blonde hair over her shoulder.
The walk back to the Eckert Ranch is quiet. It gives me time to reflect. Unfortunately, we are living in really dark times. With the reapings tomorrow, everything is going to change for someone in an instant. It's not fair and it's not right, but there is nothing we can do to change it. So what do you do? You have to find beauty. Whether it comes from yourself and the things you love or maybe from the things around you, you have to have something that gives you hope and when you find it, you need to grasp onto it with everything that you have.
Cause an empty room can be so loud
There's too many tears to drown them out
So hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on.
Robert "Robbie" Jones, 16
District Ten male
"Gooooooaaall!" A loud scream comes from outside my window. I put my pillow over my head in hopes that it will drown out the noise, but it doesn't work.
"Go faster you idiot, we only need one more point to win!" A Deeper voice booms through the thin walls that separate me from the outside world.
I throw this pillow down and sit up, rubbing my eyes. This incessant noise has been going on for hours now and at this point I am curious. Cranky, but still curious. I wriggle into some pajama pants. I think I am an okay looking kid, but definitely not attractive enough to be flashing my junk to the whole district. I gently pull the drawstring on the blinds so that the panels are separated and look outside. There is a group of boys from down the road using a cattle prod and a water bottle to play some sort of soccer game. They look like they are having a lot of fun and for a split second, I wish that I could be out there with them. I then, remember who I am.
I've never been the kid that goes out and plays with other kids. I can't ever remember feeling comfortable in a crowd bigger than maybe two or three people. I start getting hot and splotchy and my breathing gets stunted. I don't choose to be this way but this is how it has been my whole entire life. Some people just do better in isolation and I just so happen to be one of those people. After watching the game play out for a few minutes, I pull the drawstring bringing darkness back to my room. I turn around to get back in my bed but my mom is standing in my doorway with her arms crossed. I freeze.
"Don't you think it's a little weird to watch other kids play from your window?" she asks me, leaning against the door hinge.
"I was just seeing what all the noise was mom, I wasn't doing anything weird," I say trying to defend myself.
"Don't take up an attitude with me Robbie," she says, rolling her eyes. With that, she turns and leaves.
"Thank God," I mutter under my breath. I walk towards the door that my mother had left open and reach out to close it when her arm stops me.
"What did you just say to me boy?" She asks, wide-eyed.
"I didn't say anything mom," I say backing away. I know what's coming and it's not going to be pleasant. She follows me into the room and shuts the door.
"I seriously don't know where we went wrong with you. I never wanted a weirdo for a son yet here you are standing in front of me gawking like a disabled bird. Get that look off of your face now," she says.
"I'm- I'm sorry. I didn't realize I had a look on my face," I stutter in fear. With that, my mom reaches her arm out and slaps me across the face. The tingling on my cheek is familiar but it's a feeling that I will never get used too.
"Sooner or later you will learn not to take up that tone with me," she says.
When I am alone again, I bring my hand to my cheek. It still burns but I know from experience that the sensation will go away soon. My mom has always been one for harsh punishments. Ever since I was a little boy, a slap across the face was the punishment for everything. She never wanted a son like me. She wanted a son that would be something. A son that took initiative and went out of his way to talk to people and become well known in the district. She wanted a son that would help upkeep her reputation and unfortunately, that is just not me.
I don't like being this way. I'm just a socially awkward person by nature. Crowds give me anxiety, meeting new people scares me and I just enjoy being alone with a good book or my favorite movies. My parents don't like the fact that I am so quiet but when you are told for 14 years that what you have to say doesn't matter, you learn to keep it to yourself.
I am socially awkward, but I am strong. I have to be, I am essentially the only person besides Matthew or Greg who cares about me in this entire world. I enjoy being alone, it makes me strong and it makes me feel like I don't have to live up to unrealistic expectations. My two best friends are the only exceptions. They are the same way, except that they have loving parents and people who care about them. We get each other but even then, an introvert needs their space. When you put three of us together it could be days or even weeks before we all actually get together.
I walk over to my dresser and pull out my journal that I keep hidden. I can already hear the nasty slurs that would come from my father's mouth if he knew that his son wrote in a journal. I turn to a fresh page and let myself go.
Well,
Mom hit me again tonight. You would think that I would get used to it. I don't. The person who brought you into this world is supposed to love you no matter what. Not resent you because you are different from her. I can't wait to move out. I would like to say that I will keep in touch with my parents when I leave, but let's be real. I probably won't even tell them that I'm leaving. To think that I was going to come out to them soon. That would be the last thing I ever did. My dad might actually kill me if he ever finds out that I am gay. I guess it's just another thing that I will have to keep to myself. I'm seeing Matt and Greg tomorrow before the reapings, maybe I will tell them so that if my name is called, I won't die with a dirty little secret. We'll see. I'm going to ice my face and go to sleep. Thanks for listening.
Robbie.
All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
Henrissa Grannan, 17
District Ten Female
"I don't want to go," I say, pulling the blanket over my head. "You can't make me."
"I can't make you, but the PeaceKeepers can and I don't want that for you honey," My dad says, rubbing my back in slow circles.
I throw the covers off of my head. My hair sticks straight up in the air causing me to look like a mad scientist but I don't even care, that's how I feel today. The air is always different on the day of the reapings. It's hard for even me to find a light spot on days like today. It's not fair. Someone shouldn't have to give up their life just so other people know not to cause a ruckus. I am all about keeping things the same for the greater good of society but there has to be another way.
"Sweetie, I know it's both a blessing and a curse to feel things so deeply but it's one of the things that I love most about you. Wake up, get ready and be downstairs in twenty-five minutes. Mom is making your favorite." He gets up, leaving me alone.
I begrudgingly get out of my bed and trudge all the way to the bathroom. Tears fall down my cheeks as I brush my hair and wash my face. I'm not crying because I'm scared that my name is going to be called. I'm crying because a name is going to be called at all. It's unfair and it sucks. Life is fragile and the people in the Capitol just treat lives like we have a lot to spare. It's disgusting.
When I finally get my emotions in check, I put makeup on my face and curl my long dark hair into perfect waves. I slide into a white lace sundress and match it with a pair of tan cowgirl boots. I have to say, for a day that is so sad, this outfit is bright and happy. There is my bright spot for today. It's always possible to find one, even on the toughest of days.
When I get downstairs, the kitchen table is filled with breakfast foods. Bacon, eggs, potatoes and pancakes. Berries with whipped cream piled high fill the saucers that sit next to the plates and my mouth waters.
"This is beautiful! You didn't have to do all this," I smile at my parents.
"Of course we did, honey. You deserve it. Sit," My mom pulls out a chair for me and kisses me on the top of my head.
"Eat up everyone," my dad says rubbing his belly and laughing.
The food is delicious and the conversation is good. With each bite i take, I drop some on the ground for my dog Casey. He should be included in the festivities soon.
I wish that everyone in the district is having a morning like this. No matter where they come from, who they are, what they have or who they love. Everyone deserves to feel warm and loved. It's essential to life, especially on days like today.
When it falls apart
And
You're feeling lost
All your hope is gone
Don't forget to hold on
Robert "Robbie" Jones, 16
District Ten Female
It's weird that the only thing stressing me out today is the fact that I am going to have to be in a crowd of hundreds of people. I don't tell my parents that I am leaving, I just slip out the front door to go meet my friends and head to the reapings.
"This sucks man," Matthew says.
"You're telling me, I should still be sleeping for at least five more hours," Greg says.
"You are both ridiculous," I say, chuckling at their complaining. I guess I am just so used to complaining inside my mind. "Listen, I need to tell you guys something," I say.
"You told your mom you were gay and she beat the shit out of you," Matthew says, nonchalantly. "I mean, that's why your eye looks like that right?" He asks, pointing to my face.
"Wait… You knew?" I ask, surprised.
"Dude, we knew. It's not rocket science," Greg says, tossing a piece of bread into his mouth.
"Oh. Cool," I shrug.
That was easier than I thought it was going to be. The rest of the walk to the reapings is just normal talk for us. I think that all three of us just want to get this over with so we can get back home. After a long walk, we finally arrive. We are a few minutes late as the escort is already standing on the stage. She is wearing a dress made out of colorful feathers and sequins. Her long hair is rainbow and her eyelashes have colorful balls on the end of each one. This is why I stay home, people are crazy. We go and find our age group and wait for things to get started.
"It smells gross here so let's make this quick," she says, pinching the tip of her nose as she walks over to fishbowl containing the names of the female tributes. She swirls her hand in the slips of paper for way longer than someone who really wanted to get out of here should. When she finally pulls the strip of paper out and lets go of her nose she makes a face.
"Your female tribute for this years game is… Henrissa Grannan! Come on sweetheart, we haven't all day!" she returns her hand to her nose and scans the crowd.
A beautiful girl emerged from the crowd and slowly starts walking toward the stage. She takes a deep breath and turns around to face the crowd with a smile on her face.
"Do you have anything to say, honey?" The escort squeaks.
"Um. Well, My name is Henrissa Grannan. I believe that I have been chosen for the greater good of the world. I hope my time in the Hunger games will benefit someone else in the long run. I am going to give it my best shot," She says quietly before taking her spot on the back of the stage.
Wow. She's charming. I wish I could be like that.
"Let's continue," she says, ruffling her feathers.
"Your male tribute this year is.. Robert Jones," she says, looking irritated by the smell now.
I can't move. There is no way that my name was just called. I shift uncomfortably in place, but I can't move.
"Come along now son, it smells like literal shit," she says. The audience giggles at her pain. I guess we are all just used to the smell by now. I slowly walk up to the stage and decline her offer to say anything. I don't think I could even if I tried. There goes my life.
Hi there!
Well, here is the District Ten reapings! I have three days off from work against my wishes due to a ruptured nose so I have time to get these reapings done. Let me know what you think about these two.
I feel like I didn't do too great with Robbie but I am excited to experiment with him more.
Only two more reaping chapter left and then we will get on with the games! I'm excited!
QOTD: Do you watch survivor? If you do, what is your favorite season and who is your favorite player? If you don't, what is your favorite reality TV show? :)
Xoxo
Jenna