Matilda Perch -- District Four [CBD]

MATILDA PERCH
seventeen
district four
antonina vasylchenko

Thea tells me a lot of things aren't in my control, even my own life. I could get picked off from the bowl of paper names and get thrown in an arena, but I'd be the first one to say that I won't be the first one to go. Life is fragile, I know that, and possibly ever since I started training for what may or may not be. I could get Reaped or not. I could die or not. It's all a bit cruel, when you lean back and see that we haven't got much choice at all and we're just making the best of what we've got. A life lived under the wing of fear isn't much life at all, but does that mean we're all just half-alive?

I think my mother thinks of me that way, half-alive I mean. I just happened to always scowl whenever she'd say we'd have to do something as the Family. There's a difference, you know. Family is when we have to get all dressed up and act like seeing President Snow isn't like standing a meter before a raging fireplace. But family; it's eating together on the patio, the late morning sun glinting off delicate china and metal cultery. It's everyone coming together by the beach just because, and not for some official reason Father has to do. Maybe it's when the little ones need help with schoolwok and Mommy and Daddy's all they've got as help and they fumble around because they've forgotten their lessons. Something close to that, and something close to throwing that fear behind your shoulder and live for now. Thea may be right, but we're all just trying to make the best of it. I know I am.