Oliver McEwen d2//done
Apr 20, 2014 1:45:33 GMT -5
Post by minie on Apr 20, 2014 1:45:33 GMT -5
O L I V E R M C E W E N
L O V E I S A W E A K N E S S
L O V E I S A W E A K N E S S
Dear Myself,
If you are reading this letter then you are now 18 years old. Do you still remember the day you wrote this letter to yourself on the playground when you were 8? The other kids were busy playing that day, but you didn't want to play with them. They were all mean to you and none of them even invited you. They called you weird that day. I don't like being called weird, do you still hate that? I bet you do, you're me and people never really change. You never loose your fears, you never stop hating something, and you never stop liking something. What stuff do you like now? I bet you like those cookies ma would bake for you, or the training center? Do you train there often? I bet you're the best. I was always a fighter, and I can definitely say that you still are.
The other kids are staring at me right now, mumbling and asking what am I doing. I bet they want to know why I have a pen and paper in my hand. I never do, not even in class when I am supposed to. One of the girls just asked me what I was doing. She was a small one in a flower dress, it looked rather ugly and when I told her she shouldn't wear that crap, she ran away crying. She is weak. I hate weak people and you probably still hate them. It would be natural for you to hate them. After all you are me and one never stops hating something they started to hate. Do you know what would be cool? If you could time travel and answer all my questions. That would never happen, but you can answer them now and I would know them since we are the same person. I guess that is enough for me.
Okay the bell just rung and I need to get to class. We will see each other in 10 years when you open this.
Sincerely,
Your Older Self
I tossed the letter aside and fall onto my bed on my back. My shoulder length brown hair spread out as far is it could, sort of making a mane around my head. I chuckled a bit because this letter I longed to open since I sealed it that very day. It was one of the only things that I looked forward to, not wanting to wait another second to open it. I put my hands behind my head as I stared at the ceiling and chuckled quietly. The only love I ever had was myself and I will never love another person in this world. Because to love is to be weak, to put your trust in others hand and to become dependent on someone else and to never want to let them go. I will never feel that way for another person. I won't even attempt to try. Maybe the fact that I just don't want to trust a girl. Really, who wants to trust someone you looks sweet and innocent then eats your heart out? No I really don't want to trust one of those.
If I was forced to marry, I would either murder my parents or who ever was trying to make me marry someone. Or I would marry a guy. At least that means I will be trusting someone with the same strengths as I have. I wouldn't have to think about trusting a weaker, potentially backstabbing beast. Though this day will never happen, if it were then my whole life would be a lie. I told myself never to love and never to grow weak. Maybe if someone were to arrange it, it wouldn't be love but it would be two people being forced to live together by other people. I could live with that but I rather not and I won't even attempt to make that clear to my parents otherwise I think they might try to get me married the very next day and I don't want that happening. Besides, who would they have to pay off to marry me? No one would do that voluntarily, because no one likes me. Like younger me says, I am considered weird.
The kids in class look at me like I am a freak, the most common thing I hear from them is that I should cut my hair because I look like a girl. Personally I am quite fond of my hair. It makes me different from the other boys with their stupid buzz cuts. I honestly don't get what is the point of chopping of your hair when it could grow it out and look nice. Girls aren't the only ones who are allowed to have long hair. My body isn't as muscular as the body of the other boys from the training center. They have muscles and I am skinny. Not like a twig, but not that I have much muscles either. I'm also weaker then the others, they could probably throw me down to floor, without having to try that hard. To be honest, I don't care if I suck at training. I never want to be in the Hunger Games anyway, much less win them. Those who win a game where the object is useless killing are weaklings.
This whole world is filled with weaklings, the people from the Capitol that watch the games for fun, to actually think that the life of other people aren't important. Maybe they are too arrogant to see that those people may have had a future and because of their selfish needs for death. Though maybe those people deserve to die, who knows what they have done. For all I know they could have been a murderer. I wonder how those people live with themselves. How could they even think that the kind of stuff will make them stronger? A strong person is a person that stands for what they believe in. Not someone who does something other people tell them to do to make them look cool. I am a strong person. I am who I am and no matter what, I don't let people control me or tell what to do.
Codeword:ODAIR
template by chelsey
OOC: thank you to the wonderful meghan for proofreading the bio <3
