Monday Daidom | District Two | Resub {FIN}

Monday Daidom

I've been told ever since I was young, I have an intimidating appearance. Perhaps it's because of the fact that I hardly smile for reasons that most people would consider to be 'normal'. One may see a grin make its way across my lips when I see a weak tribute lose a limb, or perhaps their life, in the Games. People often tell me that I'm a cruel individual with no real heart. I don't care what they think, though.

Sometimes, it's the way I present myself, aside from just my oddly timed smiles, that intimidate those around me. I dress in mostly black, pretty much all of the time. I'd say that I have an all-around 'dark and gloomy' appearance. My hair and eyes are both quite dark, too, which just adds to it all. People say that the eyes are the window to the soul. My eyes are so dark that it's hard to tell if I have one of those. Besides, many people have told me that, judging by my personality, I very well might not have a soul, or at least not much of one.

When I was younger, I suppose that the reason that people thought I had no soul was because of a few things, one being that I never cared who died in the Games. I didn't get emotional when tributes died. Sometimes I even cheered on their killers. I'm still that way. I don't care who lives and who dies, if I'm not involved. One of my 'brothers' died in the Seventy-Second Hunger Games. I didn't react the way that most siblings would react to their sibling being the first to be slaughtered in the Games. I was mad. I was mad at him for being so damn pathetic.

Another reason that many people would say I didn't have a soul when I was younger was due to how loyal I was to Flynn. Flynn is the man who adopted me when I was about twelve years old. Unlike most of the children that Flynn adopted, I did have a memory of my parents before him. My father wasn't in the picture, and my mother had many children from several different fathers. She treated each and every one of the children she had with distaste, and gave up most of us. That's how I ended up with Flynn.

Flynn is a man that most would consider to be quite cruel. He took in children from families who didn't want them, and raised them as thieves, bullies and overall criminals. He also made sure that each of us had our fair amount of career training so that we would go into the Games and win, bringing him back the money and glory of it all. When I was younger, my biggest goal was to do just that. I wanted to win the Games to bring back all of that money and glory for Flynn and I.

Anyone who ever ended up getting in between Flynn and his success would be taken down, whether that meant that they were beaten until they stayed quiet, or killed to get them to keep their mouth shut and teach them a lesson. Recently, I helped Flynn with one of those instances. I overheard a young man by the name of Roan Trin badmouthing Flynn, trying to ruin his reputation. I then hired a hit man. The young man is dead now, and I witnessed it all, reveling in it. It feels good to live up to what Flynn wanted me to become.

Many of the children raised by Flynn, or as we were often told to call him, Uncle Flynn, weren't nearly as loyal as myself. Andesite Obsidian, the brother I mentioned earlier on, was reaped for the 72nd Games, and when he died, being the first to go, he made a poor choice in his last words. He'd said, "Screw you, Flynn," and we were all punished for his wrongdoing. Flynn had to lay low for a while, making sure that what he truly did and how he raised us didn't come to light. Luckily, all these years later, most people have forgotten about Andesite.

I enjoy seeing others' pain sometimes. It reminds me of how strong I am, and of how weak they are. I don't have many people that I would consider 'friends', as it's hard for me to find a reason to get close with anybody. I don't have a desire for love or intimacy, either. I prefer to keep to myself, as I'm not someone who opens up easily to others. You can't truly trust anyone other than yourself, if you ask me.

All in all, I'm happy with who I am.

Soulless. Heartless. Whatever one may want to call me, I don't care.

My name is Monday Daidom.