Rudy Massa | District 6 | FIN

Rotten teeth and bleeding gums, a sin in my house; a District full of medical phenomenons and my family chose the damned dentistry route. I know the whole aspire to be like your own siblings story, is a bit cliché in Panem but yeah, that’s me. The misfit of dentist prodigies, not in a million years am I going to put my hands into some dirty fucker’s mouth. There is more to aspire too in this District but fixing people, it is just not me. I am not the healer, I am not the giver, I am no hero, I am just the selfish brat who doesn’t even care for himself…well, that is what my older brother says. I have received everything on a plate and well, my hands are extended and eager to accept the next one.

Children rebel against their parent’s ideals in many and that is how my teeth have become so yellow. Years of refusing to put a brush into my mouth, now some have even marched off from my jaw, empty holes with nothing to fill them. Probably one of the reasons why I don’t smile anymore and why I have yet to receive my first kiss, I don’t know what my own breath smells like and I don’t want to find out really.

”Arghaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa” I could just scream at the lot of them, expose the annoyance that is boiling up inside of me. I have begun to adapt it though, turn this irritation into amusement. What a funny family I have, such robots, following every cue. I am so glad they are just fixing people’s broken molars and not doing something illegal. I have heard the horror stories about the surgeons and the drug dealers although to be honest, sounds more interesting than BEING A DENTIST!

Thank Ripred that I don’t look anything like them. Mom and dad have given up trying to force me to wear their costumes; I don’t wear the white lab coat for everything like the little one. It is an embarrassment really, it is why I rarely going out in public with them. I don’t wear the Massa name with pride, I am just Rudy. Shirts that could easily have me mistaken for a street rat, at least I am contrast to those uptight fools that I share a roof with. It is my identity to wear buttoned up tops with the same leather jacket over them, a jacket I won in a bet. It took some years to grow into, a short stature and all that but it suits me now. A hat too, more of a signature style than the jacket, it does take away the whole street rat appearance and transforms me into some drug lord but whatever, and I just don’t want to be like them.

I would seclude myself to my room to get away from them but I would probably put a hole in my wall after being trapped for so long. The streets of District Six are my playground, I come home for dinner of course, so much effort into putting a meal together and it is just not my job. Addicts desperate for few extra coins for their next dose, easy prey but they are my customers. Buying their junk and selling it on for a better price, some would consider it stealing, I just consider it profit. So I have a good tongue, so far everyone has fallen for my bribes and bargaining, this is a far better career than poking rotten teeth with metal sticks. The cash is hidden under my bed, accumulating and accumulating; I really do not know how to spend it.

Socialising, a hobby not by choice so I have made a couple of friends over the months due to my business and well, they all love spending their nights besides a bar, drowning their gut with glasses full of poison. Well whatever, friends of friends mean customers and if I must get drunk to get contacts, then sure it is just a part of my organisation.

My family’s operation is run during the day and mine is run during the night, okay I must confess, I am really not a morning person.

”You are so lazy, Rudy.” Insults I must admit are slightly true but with all the coins stacked in my room, there is obviously some work in that. I put effort into things where I can see a gain, cleaning the bathroom does not help me gain anything. Chores are for the benefit of my family and well, I have sworn so many times to never lift a finger in order to help them. My days are spent lounging on my bed; my nights are spent looking after myself. It is just me, it is just Rudy.

”Just listen.”

”Act normal.”

”Not good enough.”

“Be like them.”

”You should be better than this.”

Constant grooming since the day I was born, it is a surprise I even slipped the net. Five children, four fully fledged and one mistake. There was a time that I followed their ideologies, the Massa Dental Practice was going to be my future but I demolished that quite simply. I tried, I tried and I tried again and well, it just was not enough for my dad. Listening became hard, I copied my siblings but the end result was never the same. I just gave up and ran away from it all.

Schooling was never my thing, forcing my brain to hold that much attention, damn it hurt. Assigned to be the worst kid in my class, an accolade I proudly wore around my neck. I escaped a moulded life and I look back now, proud of the little me. All the necessary things to shape my future, all controlled by me, it is just; dropping from the nest is an obstacle I look at and cower from.

I look down at the next step and it is so far away. A life without the fear of the games and yet, turning into an adult is more of a nightmare for me than being reaped. Can I depend on myself to do all the little things to survive? Yes I am making a life for myself but can I truly live it? Little things like folding my clothes and washing away the dirt on my face, all dependant on my parents. I escaped a controlled life but now I am in the dark, with just a small light I created for myself.