audacity aubergine; district two; fin

Here's the thing y'all have to know about me: I am my father's greatest shame. Not like I care, it's just a fact of life. I think he cried on my last birthday because I was too old to get reaped anymore-not like I would have anyway. I'm an Aubergine. We're cursed.
I should probably elaborate on that, shouldn't I? Not like anyone in the District hasn't heard of it, but here goes: My family is cursed. There has never been an Aubergine tribute in all the years of the games. Let's do the math: That's sixty-six Games' worth of tributes. That's one hundred and thirty-two tributes from this District. And not a single Aubergine.
And everyone in my family is hopelessly disappointed by it. Me? I couldn't care less. But the rest of them-they are obsessed with getting in. I don't even wanna think about the shitstorm that would happen if someone did get reaped and then didn't win. Uncle Adelricus would probably spit on their grave, even if it was his own kid. Hell, especially if it was his own kid. My dad might be a little less strict than Uncle Adel, but that's like giving a District Twelve kid who's starving a four-course meal and apologizing because it's not six courses. Only it's a shitty metaphor because they're both dickheads.


If I had a band, it would be named "Do You Really Think I Care About Your Opinion," and our first album would be called "I Do Not Give A Flying Fuck What You Think Of Me," and our hit single would be "I Hate You All Peace Out Bitches." I've spent a lot of time thinking about this, cause I have to do something to keep my brain occupied when my parents are rambling on about honor. Otherwise I'm just gonna cuss at them, and that never, ever ends well. Especially that one time I swore at Uncle Adel. Not my finest moment.
You might have noticed a theme here: I hate my family. All of them. Except-maybe some of the younger kids can be redeemed? But I doubt it. They're all just following the family shadow.

Here's the thing about me: I smoke [cigarettes, weed, whatever you got.] I drink every kind of alcohol on the planet. Booze? Great. Drugs? Better. I don't even regret any of it. This stuff is fucking great. The rest of the family is all "it fucks you up and distracts you from training oh no" but seriously, do I look like I give a fuck? I've already heard all the lectures so many times they've got to know they have no effect on me. Nothing is going to make me care about the supposed consequences. Ground me all you want, Mom, I still have needles stored under my bed for days just like this. And besides, it's not like I've never snuck out before. I spend about ninety percent of my life technically being grounded. Never stopped me before. Not to mention I'm a legal adult now. Can't be reaped and everything. How does that make you feel, Mom? Hmm?
I know I am my parents' deepest shame. I think they would prefer if I just quietly went away. Not gonna happen, because I'm still here, and if I go I'm going out kicking and screaming.

My nineteenth birthday was the happiest day of my life, by far. No more training? No more Labyrinth? Being legal? [Okay, not like that last one had ever stopped me. But hey, I can't get arrested now! For sex, anyway.] Seriously, all the stuff I had been waiting all my life for. I'm still living at home, though, even though I'm planning on moving out. It's pretty eerie at home right now because everyone's gone at training or whatever almost all day, so I just wander the hallways like a ghost before I get the fuck out. If anything, I spend more time there now that I don't have to. It's much nicer than I always thought when it's not full of Aubergines.

Should I talk about what I look like? I will. I'm damn sexy. Long, dark hair-I got it from my mother. She's a de Idris. Light eyes that's the best thing I could've gotten from my dad, a fucking rocking body, full lips-I'm gorgeous, it's no wonder why I find people to go home with so easily. One-night-stands are my favorite because people are usually too drunk to ask my name. When they're not, they usually say "Aubergine?" and stare at me with what I can only describe as a mixture of fear and disgust. And respect, too. Not many people train as hardcore as my family does. [I used to say "we." Not anymore. Damn, I love being nineteen.]

My family is all about Pride and Honor and The Family Values. I haven't ever cared about any of those. I'm more into other sins. Lust? Sure. Wrath, Envy, Greed? I can get with that so hard. But the stuff my family's into? No fucking way. I may be a selfish bitch but I have standards, and part of those standards is knowing that I am a selfish bitch and all-around piece of shit. I am never going to think anywhere near as highly of myself as my family wants. Aubergines are raised to think they're battle gods or something. I couldn't be further from that.