iz. d4.

So I got kicked outta career training for being a pain in the ass. Again. Oops? Granted I was taking the absolute piss and I probably shouldn't of cartwheeled outta there but a girl's gotta make a statement, y'know? Even if it makes the wrong people angry. Twinkly brown eyes and cheeks that burn from laughing too much, I sprint out of there before they can catch me and almost fall over my own humongous feet. It used to be fun out here, swinging swords and jumping through literal hoops and fist-fighting and having fun but ever since Annie Morrisen won the 80th they've gotten so boring and stiff and ugh. Since when was learning how to kill teenagers so lame?

I heard her father is a right asshole. Not that I'd know - my Dad's pretty cool. I got lucky in that department, two cool parents who raised me okay. I'd never even heard of Annie Morrisen 'til she got reaped, but I'd heard of her father. His daughter was just another disappointment that Leon Krigel couldn't save, I hear he's a fucking terrible father too. What were we talking about? Oh yeah, so apparently her Dad's a twat. Bet she felt real good about winning her games and shoving that in his face. I saw that grin she tried to twist into a scowl on stage. The same shit-eating grin I wear pulling the middle finger behind those old codger's backs when they tell me to get in line. I can taste the joy just thinking about it. Good for her, she got her big house and her money and at least she doesn't have to feel guilty about being the only one that came back. Not really. Less time weeping, more time grinning at those washed-up driftwood-looking old bastards like her father. Grumpy fucks. They just wish they were our age, way past their prime, another disappointment to their parents so they went and did the next-best thing. At least they're not in caskets. 

But Annie Morrisen didn't return with caskets that year. Neither did Leon, or any of the other victors, so it was kinda like Oh great, we got the 'just kidding' games victor. Just kidding, here's your tributes, they didn't taste quite right so we spat them back at you. I mean, I'm happy for their families and all. But... yawn?

I woulda put on a show. They wouldn't wanna revive me. I'd get my head chopped off or something great. I think District Four would have sighed in relief if I got reaped. I've been a mischievous shit since birth but you've got to have some fun in this fucked-up world, right? God, people here are so grim. It's not like we're in District Twelve, I mean, hello? The beach is pretty. We get enough food. We even get to be Careers and get half a shot at leaving the arena, sorry District Three. I wonder what we did back in the first year to get that privilege. Maybe it's not what we did, but what Three didn't do. Eh, whatever, I've got a mean knife trick thanks to it - wanna see?

Neat, huh? Came up with it myself. Almost lost an eye in the process. You'd think I'd almost lose a finger, but nah. I did cut one kid's toe off once - it was an accident, I swear! Twelve years old on my first day of training and I thought I'd be a badass and swing a sword around. Swords are heavy, especially for little girls with spindly arms and no upper body strength. Don't even ask about muscle: zip, zero, nada. I still don't have any - tall, lanky. Thin hair and loads of teeth, probably too many for my jaw, that's why I smile a lot. But I'm flexible as hell and I know how to jump, bend, throw a weapon or two. I can hold a sword now with ease, but back then it felt like I had the weight of the world in my hands. The higher I raised it the harder it fell and, well, it got stuck in some poor kid's foot - bye-bye pinky toe.

Gross, right? It's okay, they sewed it back on good as new. I got kicked out for that, first day of training and out I went not even two hours in. My Mom was pissed, but I just went back in the next day and acted like nothing happened. A smile, and they took me back. 

They always take me back.

Being a Career isn't as glamourous as it used to be so they're straggling for as many kids as they can get. I heard they stopped charging fees to the poorer kids. Don't blame them. The days of Opal Shore and Topaz Ross and Julien Bryze are long gone. Even Cricket Antoinette's reign is over - she's got bigger fish to fry. More creative ways to kill. If ya can't beat 'em, join 'em, right? Good for her. But people don't see Career training as a one-way ticket out of the arena. They see you as a body-guard, a meat-shield for the middle districts to pick off and by the time they're done butchering your corpse the little lower-district kid comes crawling out from under the bodies just to stab your killer in the heart. You're not the hero. You're not even the villain. You're just a kid with an ego and dust for brains that're splattered over someone else's shirt.

Maybe District Three had it right all along, but I don't get to make that decision. I can get reaped with nothing and die, or I can get reaped with something and try to survive. Or I may not get reaped at all and I'll live my life the way I want to, Cricket Antoinette style - still Panem's, but not quite. 

Iz Oswald. With a name like that I could be anything or anyone. It's plain, a handful of letters, but it still has a ring to it. I could be anything and anyone so I choose to be fun, to be thuggish, to smile. I choose to laugh and make people laugh. You can do anything with a smile. Live. Die. Kill. Be killed.

When I die, however I die, whenever I die, I know I'll die smiling.

See you tomorrow?