Cassius Birch, D2

Cassius Delano Birch

now your nightmare comes to life

Seventeen
Male
District Two
Bisexual
Career rebel

dragged you down below
down to the devil’s show
to be his guest forever
peace of mind is less than never

I have never considered this world to be beautiful. How is beauty possible in the pool of blood and betrayal that Panem so diligently paints its walls with? As I take my solid stride through this liquid river I only notice the pale-gray and filthy faces of the ones who are no more than wisps of air in the wind. Each and every one of us is born into the poverty that is this enslavement, and all we can see is the warm, red fireplace and the welcoming arms of our poor, dear mothers. The decrepit, stooped form of my old lady has been greeting me since I was a suckling babe in her leather arms, latched onto a breast so sagged that it hardly deserved my confident touch, let alone my overjoyed existence. Oh! what a celebration it had been when I emerged, naked and proud from my mother’s womb, a gift of life after so many years of trial and failure. But the initial excitement of my welcoming was soon forgotten when the ancient witch learned of the conception of her second and final parasite: the birth of little Beatrice who cried rarely and bared her symmetrical little teeth for the entire world to applaud.

My fate moved from its marvelous height of pride and dignity to become second-rate of perfection. As I grew steadily into my stature, all I became good for was to live the controlled life that my parents had always lusted over. Pale, fleshy fingers welcomed the cool hilt of a blade too long for anyone but a god to control. The insanity that only a Career could claim poured into my underused muscles and carved itself like a statue across my carefully bare chest and sturdy arms. A quiet wave of austere loathing slowly crept into my polluted veins and created for itself a void that could only be filled by the stale chemicals of my addictions. I turned to the bitter bottle in my haze to control the monster within my soul, but its cold solitude did nothing to forgive me of my wrongdoing. The subtle drag of nicotine and what could only be described as poison had no pity on my hate, and only served to intensify my urge to drag the long side of my now familiar blade over the back of my frail abandoner. I wanted to slide its tip across her loose throat and end her demanding justifications forever. We were never friends, my mother and I.

But fate never had such a happy ending. My begging only went to the arrogant ears of the people who just never cared for what I wanted or who I hoped to be. The thin strands of possibilities that could lead to happiness or, dare I say it, hope, had been severed the very second the little bewitcher had been brought into this world. One would only imagine that a situation like this would call for my thought life to be consumed by severe teenage angst that would eventually lead to a plot for revenge – a knife in the back in a dark alleyway or perhaps a crime so carefully calculated that it would send one’s sister off to the capitol with a vital body part missing. Nobody could blame me for thinking such things, and temptations such as these did frequently popped into my head, but not about who one would naturally assume – yes, I very much wanted this for the demon who had brought me into this world, but for my naïve, little sister, how could I ever blame her for what I had become? The only crime she had ever committed was being born into the world with two gorgeous green eyes (so unlike my own, rusty brown), and a tiny tuff of curly brown hair on top of her head. The moment I laid eyes on her I was enchanted. There was nothing I could do to hurt this girl, even if the thought had ever crossed my mind. She was my weakness, my crutch, and the world couldn’t change that if it tried.

Hot liquid pours down my throat as I pause in the alleyway behind the drugstore. My messiah will be out soon, his hood drawn up past his eyes in a weak attempt to conceal his identity. I’m not sure why he bothers with this facade; everyone at school knows what goes on beyond the gaze of the over-enthusiastic law enforcement. We all do it, even if we won’t admit it. He’s taking longer than usual today, and I click my tongue impatiently. In all likelihood he got caught up avoiding the increasingly present peacekeepers. Their activities in the ‘most beloved district’ had increased ten-fold since the latest Hunger Games had started, but that wasn’t surprising. I feel my patience growing thin as the minutes tick steadily by, and I fight the urge to check my rather expensive watch. It wouldn’t be wise to reveal it in a place with such a dead and murky air as this. He’ll be here eventually; I just wish he had thought of my time before he decided to waste it. The white coats of our peacekeepers weren’t surprising in the District, and in fact, the majority of them had been raised from our dusty streets. Precautions could be taken to avoid their unintelligent slurs of their so-called ‘civic duty’, and if the guy really cared he could have figured out the quickest way to abandon their tailing asses. I settled for not that the guy was preoccupied, but that he didn’t view my status and money as worth his precious time.

“Spare some change, mister?” A man with scraggly, unkempt facial hair and a ragged flannel shirt stumbles over to my corner, his dirty hands outstretched in his desperate hope. I could see through the thick layer of grime that decorated his eyes a slim spark of youth and wonder. He was hardly older than my own seventeen years. What had happened to this man to bring him to such a sorry state? I couldn’t’ feel bad for him; he was still young enough to sell himself into the deep pit of slavery that was peacekeeping. Pity didn’t cross my mind, but mild amusement as I barked out a loud chuckle for his misfortune. “Can’t say I have any on me, friend.” My stiff shoulders attempted a shrug as I try to convey an attitude of shame. I can only offer him what brings me comfort , “Here, you can have the rest of this. It’ll make all your worries go away.” I pass him the last few sips of my bottle and pull my leather jacket closer to my lanky form. I recede from the beggar just as my useless companion shuffles into the impoverished alleyway.

I let the smooth contours of my angled face spread into a menacing sneer as my feet rush towards him. “Where have you been, asshole? I’ve been waiting here half the night.” I almost regret my words as a slimy lob of spit shoots out of his scarred lips and lands on the black toe of my sneakers. “Oh fuck ya you ungrateful youth. Do ya understand how hard it is to get a ho’ of this shet? Could hardly enter the damn sto’ without some stupid ol’ peacekeeper up in meh face demanding to see meh ID. If ya think its so easy ta get a hold of this shet then why don’t ya do it yarself? I’m tired o’ being ya fuckin slave all the time.” I interrupt his rant by grabbing the bag in his hand and shoving a pile of precious bills into his overworn brown coat. “Same time, next week, Lor?” “Ah, fuck ya.” I let myself smirk as I stalk out of the hell-filled hovel that we so often met in. I knew he’d be back, he always was.

hate to twist your mind
but God ain’t on your side
an old acquaintance severed
burn the world your last endeavor

text
emphasis
thoughts
hearing
speech
other

codeword - oDair
faceclaim - lee kholafai
song - nightmare by avenged sevenfold
plots - fifty, nifty united states "ohio"

flesh is burning, you can smell it in the air
'cause men like you have such an easy soul to steal (steal)
so stand in line while they ink numbers in your head
you’re now a slave until the end of time here
nothing stops the madness turning, haunting, yearning, pull the trigger