show me. // kaplan

I guess I value their opinions too much.

I've been more indecisive than ever since I got here and it's pissing me off, but I just can't help it--not when his skull stares me right in the face and I just let it happen to everyone's surprise. Not when I can't bring myself to figure out even a little bit of each of the tables and areas in the gym before me.

Not when I can't decide whether I want to die, die trying, or live instead of these 23 other people here who probably deserve to much more than I do.

I keep thinking back to a couple of those reaping tapes--I keep thinking back to the Lowe girl and how the camera panned to her heartbroken younger sister, her twin trying to keep her from getting up on the stage but failing, her having to look at Saffron as she took to the steps.

I keep thinking back to the girl in twelve who was holding the hand of another that was crying, only for that girl to let go and back away from her when her name was called--Dandy I think--like a selfish, ungrateful bitch.

I keep thinking back to when that boy in nine volunteered for someone who was being fought for by another when that someone's name was pulled out of the glass ball.

But I know they cared when I put myself out there for that boy back in eight, I didn't have to see it for myself because they were just those kinds of people to--only peace was no longer a privilege for us when I let it happen and it slowly tore us apart.

On the inside, on the out.

And the loss is already leading to my own.

I can't do that to them.

Not when I comforted my siblings only to leave them forever.

Not when I didn't take one last look at their faces and let them have one last conversation with me in the Justice Building before boarding the train.

Not when I spent my last moments with them as if I didn't even have anybody in the first place.

That girl Dandy was comforting wasn't the only selfish, ungrateful bitch it seems.

I need to make an effort, not for myself but for them.

It's the least I can do to make up for what I didn't.

It's all I can do.

So I force myself to head over to the table with axes, spears, flails, and hard-hitting weapons, and tap the shoulder of a Career--the district one girl, right?--who is currently occupying it before clearing my breath.

Eyes of uncertainty meet hers, and I am unsure what to think as I study her face, my hands meeting behind my back.

"...Do you think you can help me?" I glance over at the table's contents before returning to her. She could say no, she could just turn back around and mind her own business without giving me an answer, she could be so bothered by my interrupting her that she'd pick up one of those things and end my life here and now.

Anyway this goes, it's fine with me.

I'm only caring for compensation, after all.