Prim and PROPER~(Open)

Kieran Caldwell

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Often, I feel like a bee. A silent bee. Flying, buzzing, acting on my own terms, making sure nothing gets in my way.

But then, when something does get in a bee’s way, what does it do? It stings.

If only people could see that connection, between me and a bee: then, life might just be that little bit easier.

There’s some emotion down in my gut that’s just pulling me out, making me act when I have to act. It’s something that I need to let go of. If people would just steer clear, they wouldn’t get hurt.

Stung.

And that’s that.

Today, I walk down the sidewalk, heading from school to the training gym. School is definitely not my favorite place: too many people, too many questions, too much annoyance.

I slip my hands into my pocket, keeping my head down. Most people don’t look at me, nor do they talk to me. There’s no reason to, not when they know they might get stung.

I think of Janae, my little sister. Sometimes, I can get a few words across to her, but usually, I don’t talk much at all unless there’s an absolute reason. “Kieran, are you sure you don’t want to say anything?” “Kieran, maybe you should go hang out with some of your friends.” The words of my parents echo throughout my brain; they torture me day and night. I don’t want to be that person. Can’t they see, I don’t need friends?

I live being a lonely bee, without a hive.
It feels more reassuring.
It feels better to know that people are afraid of you, that you’re intimidating enough to scare them away.

Still keeping my head down, I suddenly bump into something—someone. I take a glance up, watching as the girl’s books tumble to the ground. I stumble myself, trying to keep my balance. Quickly, I give the girl a menacing glare. Stay out of my way, it says.

For a moment, I’m frozen in place. “Just keep walking,” I tell myself…but I don’t. Instead, I just look at the ground, watching the few books that are splattered across the sidewalk.

Yet, I don’t bother to pick them up.
I just slip my hands back into my pockets.
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I walk down the road trying to step around the puddles. i hate water it gets everything wet. my clothes are new and i want to keep them clean. To me rain is worse than puddles it gets all of you wet and you cant avoid it, but with puddles you can easily step around them. I had just left my house after going there to drop my book off.

As I turn the corner i see a boy walking on the other side of the road he was just walking head down, hands in pockets, glaring at the ground. I recognise this boy, he dosn't like to talk to people. He must be walking to the training center.

Just then he bashed into a girl. I hadn't noticed the girl before. She dropped her books all over the ground and fell. Even from the other side of the road i could hear the rip of her dress as her but hits the ground. The boy dosn't even help her he just puts his hands in his pockets and scowels.

"Enjoy bumping into people do you?" she asks.

I couldnt help my self, I laughed.

[glow=blue,2,300]Sequin Jones[/glow]


I realise the boy is contemplating hitting her and i, this angers me. But what angers me more is that he unballs his fist. What? Dosn't believe in hitting a girl? Thinks I'm to weak? I'll show him, I'm one of the strongest girls in District 1. My anger flares to boiling point.

I storm across the street.

"You think im too weak do ya?" I yell at him. His face tells me he does. "Tell me, is this weak?" I punch him in the face with all my streghth.

As he recovers I help the girl pick up her books.

Not so weak now am i? i think to myself

Kieran Caldwell

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The fun begins.

The girl throws a punch at me. Really? What does she think she's doing? That's not going to end anything. It's just going to get it started. I stumble backwards, losing my balance, and half-falling to the ground. Bloodlust overcomes me; I love fighting, but something is definitely pulling me back. This is a girl.

Sure, if this were the Hunger Games I'd start fighting, but this isn't. This is real life. In real life, you throw a punch, a peacekeeper sees, you're dead. In the Hunger Games, you throw a punch, defend yourself, you win. Very different worlds.

I feel blood as it starts to seep from my nose. I put my finger to it, looking down as the red color stains my hands. I completely ignore the girl who's trying to help me. Getting up and regaining my balance, I rush towards the girl who had attacked me, anger filling my insides. I grab the collar of her shirt, pushing her into the wall of the building next to us.

"I'm bigger than you, I'm taller than you, I'm stronger than you. So you'd better not mess with me. You don't make me angry, I do the same for you, 'kay?" I use my other hand to grab my pocketknife. "You see this?" I say. "You try to fight me, I can easily use this." I throw the knife in the other direction, carelessly ridding myself of it. "But what's the fun of that?"

I think of all the other ways I could hurt this girl if I really wanted to. I could easily break her neck. I shiver at the thought: I'd sure be locked up if I did that. But I don't say this. I don't tell her that there's no way I can hurt her without having Peacekeepers come after me. Instead, I let go of her shirt collar, hoping that the violence will just end here.

I take a deep breath, trying to release all of my anger. I walk over to the other girl, the one who had tried to help me. "Sorry for...bumping into you. I should go," I finish the last line with a glare in the violent girl's direction, yet I'm too hesitant to leave...

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He stares after the girl who wants the finish the fight before turning to me. With a snicker he insults my name. "Proper? What kind of name is that?" He asks me.

I look down. "If it's easier for you, you can call me Ann."

He seems like he wants to run away. But something stops him. He shoves his hands in his pockets and glances down as soon as I glance back up. "So, you a Career?" He asks.

I look down at myself. I'm certainly not built like all the other female Careers. I'm more of one of those girls with the polished surface, and almost weak-exterior. I wrap my arms around my hour-glass figure; feeling examined. "N-no," I say and glance back down.

He begins to tell me that it's good I'm not a Career. Then he goes on; after what seems to be a big mental fight, to tell me he is not one either. I can't help but smile at this. A guy who can fight...But isn't as uptight and fierce as those other Career boys. I feel stupid ,almost, when the hot radiating blush finds my cheeks.

"Well, I'm glad you're not a Career either," I tell him with a warm smile. He glances down; and thinks for a moment. He invites me to wash off at his house...I should be getting home though; Mother will be furious enough as it is...But I can't help myself when I accept his offer with a smile.

A little Rebellion never hurt anybody...Did it?