Savior Ingleton // District 3 // fin

Savior Ingleton // District 3 // fin Nov 17, 2015 9:02:04 GMT -5

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Post by ali on Nov 17, 2015 9:02:04 GMT -5

Savior Ingleton
{district three}
sixteen :: female :: demisexual

.:: Go row the boat to safer grounds
But don't you know we're stronger now
My heart still beats and my skin still feels
My lungs still breathe, my mind still fears ::.

You are a little girl. Small, petite, you were once an angel, dragged from heaven right down to a hell full of sin, fire, things that your bright blue eyes were never meant to hear or see or touch. Your peace was torn from you, suddenly, abruptly, and so you cried and screamed and wailed and a woman (your mother) tried to calm you, tell you that everything was alright; except how could it be? You were so small but you knew that this was bad, this world was horrible, thats why you cried. You wanted to go home, but home would never come.

Things, from that day forth, did not get better for you. It never does in the slums of District 3. Your mother was one of 6 siblings herself and you were one of 4, the youngest out of your brothers and sisters who were born before you to the same father, but different to yours. Their father had passed, as many do, a year before your birth so your conception seemed to be a miracle to most- other than your mother who knew the truth behind your little blue eyes and alabaster skin- and so they were overjoyed when you were bought home from the hospital. You therefore, were named Savior.

They thought you could save them but you could not. You were only a child, mind you, their smiles forever grew through harsh winter nights where snow fell and winds blew through cracks in the floorboards and caused you all to shiver. Their smiles grew even more when you took your first few steps, spoke your first few words- timid as a mouse- and began to smile too. They were happy you were here, and you were- finally- happy you were with them.

Oh but how cruel this world is. Like sand through your fingers, that happiness slipped from your grasp; it was cruel and you cried about it and sometimes you still cry about it too. You were only 6 when your big brother got sick, well you did not know he was sick until you woke up beside him, his heart still and his skin ice cold and stiff, one morning before school. You believed he were only playing and laughed it off until he would not wake at your touch. You cried and cried for momma and momma came but she only cried too; there was nothing either of you could do.

That is before you got sick too.

You woke one night screaming, your whole body felt like hot white light and it burnt you from the center of your forehead and radiated out. You did not know what was wrong, you were scared and afraid and when your sisters and brothers came to your bedside, you could see they were frightened too; this made you cry more and more. Your sisters helped you out of bed and carried you with the help of neighbours to the District Clinic where they begged the Doctors to save your life.

They did, but you do not remember. The pain must have been to great, too much, and you passed out only to wake a few days later with tubes in your arms and a headache and- and-. It did not take you long to realize that you could no longer hear. The world seemed colourless without it, the world seemed to be shot of all its light and it left you, wandering in the dark. You first noticed you could not here when your mother touched your hand and her lips moved but no sound came from them.

You cried but you got over it like you had done your brother. A complication, was what the Doctor had told you, a complication to menigitis. That you would be deaf forever now, that your quiet timid attitude would stick to you forever like bees to honey. He said you had the blessing of knowing how to talk before you lost your hearing but you did not see it that way; he talked of therapy and you wondered briefly- how am I supposed to afford that? Your family was poor. You barely could put bread on the table and you all often went hungry at night.

You were petite, tiny, a skeleton with pale white skin drawn over you, and now you were deaf.

Deafness did not favour you. You were loud apparently, ironically. You would clomp around the house, slamming doors, without even realizing what a ruccus you were making. School was even worse. You would hum to yourself, quietly, until the teacher slammed her hands on the desk before you and her mouth contorted into a shout- you could not hear her but by the way her lips moved in a snarling fashion, you knew you were in trouble.

You were not sure if it could get any worse, then you turned 12 years old and went through your first ever reaping. People clung to you as they waited eagerly for the escort to read someone elses name; thankfully for you, they always did. Never once did you or your sisters come up in the reaping and as if as a reward, you got rice and flour and oil to feed yourselves for a year. You didn't see much point in it but you accepted the food greatfully and thanked ripred that you were safe.

but as the years, the sun roams around the sky, day after day, pass, time ticks on, you wonder if you will be next?

You are in hell, after all.