Elias Worel :||: Peacekeeper :||: WIP

Entry code 16983251 // Author ID 9836 // Code name w**le

I have begun my new assignment at the Capitol, a welcome break from the rounds made in District 11. The humidity and heat did not quite agree with me, especially when my training had been done in the crisper atmosphere of District 2. At least in the Capitol—well, what can’t they control around here? My assignment is simple: protect a high ranking official and his family. Considering that he is favorable among the Capitol citizens, barring a small nuisance of rebels, there is little I need to worry about. It leaves me time to reacquaint myself with my surroundings, and more importantly, find records that I have been searching for in the past. They tell us not to allow our personal lives into our working environment, but when I am in the place where I was born, how could I not?

I ran away when I was 9, unable to tolerate my parents any longer. An estranged family member took me in before I could be apprehended and raised me as if I was her own. She became my Mother, more so than the figure who gave birth and oppressed me as her child. My parents may have meant well, but that meant little to my desire to run around and be a young boy. I could tell they were trying to groom me to be something higher than them, to achieve a position they could only dream of.

I didn’t want that. At that age, all I wanted was to be myself—which admittedly at that age, I had no idea what that meant. I was, however, aware enough to realize that my parents were trying to suppress everything that made me an individual. I was meant to be a cog in the Capitol, to work my way up by following the system. Not surprisingly, I didn’t like it. After school, I wandered off instead of returning home, my little feet taking me to the only family member my parents would not speak of.


Entry code 16986683 // Author ID 9836 // Code name w**le

I saw the strangest thing today, probably a sign of the boredom I have been feeling for the past two weeks. There is still very little required of me and the times the family goes out as a unit, they do the most boring of tasks. My reason for requesting and accepting this assignment still remains strong, but my will wavers as the most harm that could come to any of them is choking from eating too quickly.

But today, my mind was sparked—or maybe boredom had caused me to imagine things—because I saw my mother in flesh once again. It had been many years since I last saw her, but she looked just as she had when I had left her—unsurprising considering she had been obsessed with maintaining her youth. What had changed was the girl following her obediently; I did not recognize her but based on her looks, I assumed her to be my sister. I had left when she was a small baby, but the girl looked similar to my mother and was close to her side. It had only been a small glimpse, but somewhere deep in my chest, I just knew.


Security log April 16, year of the 68th Games
02:45 PK Allster assumes post
02:46 PK Worel enters building 19 subsection 4
02:47 PK Worel accesses elevator 3
02:47 PK Worel exits elevator 3 on floor 2
02:48 GM Tiero exits building 19 subsection 2
02:51 PK Worel accesses screen 22
02:51 PK Worel accesses file 179-64-2819a
02:57 PK Worel accesses file 179-64-2827c
03:13 PK Worel exits screen 22
03:15 PK Worel accesses elevator 2
03:15 PK Worel exits elevator 2 on floor 1
03:16 PK Worel exits building subsection 4
03:30 PK Nygari assumes post


Audio Recording 2.139.221.4: Conversation between W.M. and W.S. [transcript]

[inaudible noise]
W.M.: Is he with you?
W.S.: Well, that’s one way to say ‘hello’.
W.M.: Just answer the question.
W.S.: What does it matter to you? You never cared for his well-being. Let him do what he wants and maybe he won’t keep running away.
[chatter in background]
W.M.: That’s him, isn’t it? Tell him to please come home. The neighbors are already starting to ask questions.
W.S.: Wilyana! Is that all you care about? What the neighbors think about your son running away? This is your son, for Ripred’s sake.
W.M.: You will never understand, Wisteria. You will never understand what it’s like to have to raise an unruly child. Maybe if he would just listen for once, he wouldn’t feel so compelled to run away.
[silence]
W.S.: I may never have children, but I’m sure I would be better at raising them than you.
W.M.: How dare you say—
W.S.: Good-bye, Wilyana. Don’t call back.
[silence, then tone]