Marsh Deluca - D5 - FIN

Oil rigs sprouted up in five quickly over the years, and at first, people didn’t pay much mind to them.  That was until the capitol started employing people to work there.  It seemed like it was harmless, up until the fumes from the rigs started to warp the plant life around them.  That’s when I realized that we wouldn’t be able to raise livestock forever.  With the environment becoming toxic, I watched many animals die off because they weren’t getting the proper nutrition.  The Capitol might not know it, but plants are very important for them to survive, and if their food supply is destroyed because of pollution, then well, they perish.  I guess the figured out to raise animals in the capitol.  That or they were starting to treat us like animals.  I hated everything about the society that we lived in, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it.  I was stuck here, working a job that I didn’t enjoy.  There was nothing appealing about five to me, not even my parents.  I was just here, wasting away into nothing.

One day, I went out of my way to prepare a rather large supper for my parents.  Usually, my mother always had plans to make us something because she loved to cook, but tonight, I asked her if I could take the reins for once.  She looked at me like I was crazy, but she ended up giving in because she saw the look on my face.  It reminded her of my father, a man that was no longer with us physically.  Unfortunately, he was a klutz and fell off one of the rigs and plunged to his death.  I wasn’t very close to him, mostly because he was never around.  He spent a long time working on farms before they were a thing of the past.  He was all about making sure he was busy at almost any time of the day.  My mother told me it was because he wanted to make sure that we were taken care of, but I thought it was because he didnt approve of my lifestyle. 

Regardless, I was somewhat remised about a relationship with my father, but I moved on, and found a way to get my mind off of it when it would come across my mind.  It all started when my mother asked me if I could watch something she was cooking while she went out to pick some herbs that she grew around the house.  At first, I was confused as to why she asked me, simply because my younger brother was more interested in cooking than me, but once I saw what she was working on, I was curious to say the least.  So then I started asking her some questions.  At first, she tried to shush me away, trying to keep a quiet environment so she could focus on her task, but she caved eventually.  She took the time to show me the ins and outs of cooking, even at one point, she let me try to make recipes that she would be working on at the same time.  It was a chance to learn something that wasn’t directly tied to my brute strength after all.

While I was acquiring some ingredients, I came across another family that was holding onto what looked like a dead chicken.  Now usually, I wouldn’t say anything to them, but from the looks of it, it was freshly killed, and since it had been a long while since ive actually seen an animal that close up, I was curious to know where they got it.  The boy in particular looked at me and just laughed, like it was something that I didn’t need to know about.  Like it was preposterous for me to ask a simple question.  Instead of answering it, he just handed me the carcass, and instead of giving it back to him, I just nodded and brought it home with the rest of the ingredients that I had collected.  I ended up plucking it clean and making a stock out of the remnants.  However, I still couldn’t help but think about the boy who handed it to me.  Why did he do such a kind act for me?  He could have simply walked away and move don with his day, however, he didn’t.  There were days where I wondered if I would ever see him again.

And then I did.

And again.

And again.

His name was Davis and honestly, I didn’t know how to react to our first encounter.  During our second encounter however, he gave me another small animal like it was a way for him to pay his respects or something.  I didn’t understand, but he just simply smiled at me and waited for me to take it in my hands so he could get on with his day.  At first I found it weird, but then I found out a little bit more about why he was doing it.  Apparently he was the son of a worker who worked with my father.  In an act of penance, he decided that he was going to find a way to help me provide for my family.  I found that weird at first, but when he told me that he watched my father fall from that railing, I understood a little bit more.  I forgave him, and told him that I would rather see him without him having some sort of animal in his hand.  It was nice that he had such things at his disposal but there was something weird about taking animals from someone that I didn’t know well.  Honestly, I should have been a bit more forlorn over the loss of my father, especially because he told me that he watched it happened, but one thing that Davis didn’t know about me, was that my father hated me because I preferred men to women.  It was a death that I didn’t cry over, and my mother celebrated a bit herself.

My mother actually worked in one of the kitchens in town, providing a hot meal to those who needed it.  I always admired how strong my mother was.  I tried to model myself around it because I felt that was the best way for me to live my life.  As hard as it was to live in Panem, living in five wasn’t too bad if you knew how to survive.  Lucky for me, I could and that was because my mother taught me the basics to survival in a place like Panem.  It started with finding the essentials and then building up from there.  Sometimes it was hard, but my mother also taught me to be kind to others and help when I could.  I was taught to be kind, but also, be resourceful.  If I needed to, trade favors to get what I needed.  So that’s what I did.  I learned to help people around their houses, would do house work and farm work, for people that still did have livestock farms, and cook meals for those who might not be able to eat.  I was raised to be a kind soul.  Its probably why my father thought that I was soft.  I didn’t know how to be a man to him.

But through my mother, I learned how to be a man.  More of a man then my father ever was.  I wasn’t afraid to be me after all.  I was able to respect people for who they were and I never judged anyone for where they came from.  Hell, even Davis couldn’t say that I wasn’t pleasant to him.  While he might have witnessed something awful, that should have shook me to my core, however, I relished it in.  I forgave him because that was the right thing to do.  My father talked about strength like it was inherently physical only, but my mother taught me that you could be strong mentally and emotionally as well.  That was why I didn’t fit my dad’s image of a perfect son.  I was soft to him, and I was afraid to be assertive in places where it was required.  However, I wouldn’t want to be anything but soft.  In that softness, I found my strength.

I found a rainbow, and rainbow baby, trust me I know, life aint easy, but just put those colors on boy, come and play along with me tonight.  In that rainbow, I found something worth more than anything my father tried to teach me when I was young. I learned to be a man that respected people for anything, and while we lived a society where we needed to be a little bit more cutthroat, I couldn’t bring myself to do that.  I didn’t just want myself to be strong, but I wanted everyone to be strong with me.