for the children // melissa catlyn {speech}
Jun 8, 2017 20:56:26 GMT -5
Post by lance on Jun 8, 2017 20:56:26 GMT -5
Never in her wildest dreams had she ever thought that she would be standing on this stage today.
Once, perhaps, she might have feared it, as a timid, shy auburn-haired teenager, but those days had long since come and gone. And after that, any reason for her to take one step onto the dreaded stage had promptly vanished into thin air.
And yet, there she was.
Inwardly, she sighed. Politics had never been in her realm of interest, and yet...
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
She took a breath, plastered on her best warm smile, and began.
"Thank you all for coming today." Short, sweet, and to the point.
"Many of you probably know me by sight at the very least, if not by name. I know a good number of you by those same standards as well. And because of that, you're probably wondering why the hell an old woman like me is standing on this stage of all places talking about something like politics." Here she gave a little chuckle. "Honestly, I'm sort of wondering that myself."
Her mild attempt at humor quickly blew over, and the grin faded as she pressed on towards the key point of her speech.
"But see, here's the thing. Here in lil old Six, we're honestly a pretty lucky people, all things considered. We've got this college, which rivals even the greatest in the Capitol in terms of quality. We've got the best brains in everything that you could possibly imagine - science, medicine, technology, you name it." Pause. "But see, there's one problem that accumulating all of these advantages gives us.
She had the audience's rapt attention by this point, and oh lord that is a lot of people.
Inhale, exhale, speak.
"See, the problem is is that not everyone gets to reap the benefits that we as a district offer."
There. She'd said it. A sudden wave of courage rushed through her, and she continued.
"Despite our advantages, despite our gifts, there are still a startling amount of people that go without even the most basic of necessities. While some people are marveling about their latest breakthrough or others are flaunting wealth and knowledge, others are wondering whether they'll be able to feed themselves and their families today."
Dead silence. She took that as encouragement.
"And the children-" An uncharacteristic wave of sadness (she was rather notorious for keeping a fine lid on her emotions when she wanted to, if only to further her work efficiency) swept through her, and she paused abruptly.
And the children.
So many times she would walk down the streets of her home and see things that would not be ideal in a perfect world. Children, some just barely into reaping age, forced to scrounge and scavenge for their food in order to feed themselves. Teenagers, often with a year or two left before their own terms of reaping eligibility expired, skulking on street corners with the same defeated pose that she she had grown all too accustomed to seeing.
And it broke her heart.
"And the children," she repeated. "The children who go through things that no one should ever have to suffer, the children who go to extreme lengths to ensure the survival of themselves and their families."
Pause. Another breath, somewhat more ragged this time.
"No child should ever have to make that choice." she murmured.
"And-and if I get elected, if I am chosen to be your new mayor-" Nerves hardened to steel, and a voice thick with emotion spoke words of fiery determination. "Then I will do everything in my power to ensure that no one - child or otherwise - will ever have to be forced to go to such extreme lengths simply to survive."
There was no such thing as a perfect world, but Ripred damn it if she wasn't going to do her best to try and create one.
Once, perhaps, she might have feared it, as a timid, shy auburn-haired teenager, but those days had long since come and gone. And after that, any reason for her to take one step onto the dreaded stage had promptly vanished into thin air.
And yet, there she was.
Inwardly, she sighed. Politics had never been in her realm of interest, and yet...
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
She took a breath, plastered on her best warm smile, and began.
"Thank you all for coming today." Short, sweet, and to the point.
"Many of you probably know me by sight at the very least, if not by name. I know a good number of you by those same standards as well. And because of that, you're probably wondering why the hell an old woman like me is standing on this stage of all places talking about something like politics." Here she gave a little chuckle. "Honestly, I'm sort of wondering that myself."
Her mild attempt at humor quickly blew over, and the grin faded as she pressed on towards the key point of her speech.
"But see, here's the thing. Here in lil old Six, we're honestly a pretty lucky people, all things considered. We've got this college, which rivals even the greatest in the Capitol in terms of quality. We've got the best brains in everything that you could possibly imagine - science, medicine, technology, you name it." Pause. "But see, there's one problem that accumulating all of these advantages gives us.
She had the audience's rapt attention by this point, and oh lord that is a lot of people.
Inhale, exhale, speak.
"See, the problem is is that not everyone gets to reap the benefits that we as a district offer."
There. She'd said it. A sudden wave of courage rushed through her, and she continued.
"Despite our advantages, despite our gifts, there are still a startling amount of people that go without even the most basic of necessities. While some people are marveling about their latest breakthrough or others are flaunting wealth and knowledge, others are wondering whether they'll be able to feed themselves and their families today."
Dead silence. She took that as encouragement.
"And the children-" An uncharacteristic wave of sadness (she was rather notorious for keeping a fine lid on her emotions when she wanted to, if only to further her work efficiency) swept through her, and she paused abruptly.
And the children.
So many times she would walk down the streets of her home and see things that would not be ideal in a perfect world. Children, some just barely into reaping age, forced to scrounge and scavenge for their food in order to feed themselves. Teenagers, often with a year or two left before their own terms of reaping eligibility expired, skulking on street corners with the same defeated pose that she she had grown all too accustomed to seeing.
And it broke her heart.
"And the children," she repeated. "The children who go through things that no one should ever have to suffer, the children who go to extreme lengths to ensure the survival of themselves and their families."
Pause. Another breath, somewhat more ragged this time.
"No child should ever have to make that choice." she murmured.
"And-and if I get elected, if I am chosen to be your new mayor-" Nerves hardened to steel, and a voice thick with emotion spoke words of fiery determination. "Then I will do everything in my power to ensure that no one - child or otherwise - will ever have to be forced to go to such extreme lengths simply to survive."
There was no such thing as a perfect world, but Ripred damn it if she wasn't going to do her best to try and create one.
m e l i s s a c a t l y n
