it was a joke, mark...i was joking... [nowles/oz]

oz

"No turkey? You fucking idiot, Jeremy! You total fucking idiot! THAT WAS YOUR JOB, YOU FUCKING MORON! YOU CRETIN! YOU'RE A FUCKHEAD! THAT'S WHAT YOU ARE! A FUCKING SHIT-HEAD!

Every single fucking day, it was the same thing.

Wake up. Panic. Actually go to breakfast this time. Panic. Notice how hot Nowles is. Notice that she's not talking to you. Why? Cause she's a bitch. Fuck her (but metaphorically though). Go to the training center. Panic. Fall down a lot. Try not to cry. Panic. Wonder if you have a heart condition because your heart will not stop pounding. Wonder how the other tributes are planning to kill you, because they definitely are, you're probably gonna be out before the Bloodbath cause you're such a useless little shit, a fucking shit-stain on someone's balls, that's what you are to them and home and the Gamemakers. Go to lunch. Panic. Try not to feel like you're back in first semester of sixth grade as you watch the fucking Kool Kidz (TM) hook up with their Kool Alliance (TM) and make jokes about how Kool they are (TM). Fuck them. Panic because you don't have an alliance. Panic. Go back to training. Fall down. Panic. Go up to the District Nine suite. Panic. Eat dinner. Panic. Nowles still won't talk to you. Panic. Bitch.

Was this the rest of his fucking life.

Shit. It was. You don't have long, man. Few more days, and then...

How long do you think you're going to make it.

"You're the kind of person who gives up."

Shut up, Priscilla. Bitch. Maybe you could have actually wanted to do something with your life if it weren't for people like her. Or Snuff.

"They'll crush you, man!"

Really had to rub it in, didn't he. Some friend.

Not like you hadn't saved his worthless ass or anything. A little gratitude, maybe? A little "Wow thanks man you're the real G hope you don't die hahahahahahah."

Would that have been so hard to ask.

If people actually gave a shit about you, maybe you could've been a contender. But you're not. You're nothing. Just like everyone else who was ever born.

Somewhere on your way to dinner, you just kind of lay on the floor of the hallway to yours and Nowles' room. Spread-eagle, all stretched, completely taking up the path. Because you're imploding. Your heart's going so fast it's gone numb, and if you move another inch you might die.

You don't react when you hear someone trot up to you. The ceiling tiles are just that interesting.

Her face looms over you. Kind of a tingle there...but not that much because she kind of sucks to be honest.

"I'm not moving," you grunt. Prepared to catch her by the ankles if she thinks she can step over you, because if he's not moving, then she's not either, because fuck her...metaphorically.