i.am.we | amias.ambrose.blitz
Dec 31, 2022 19:37:58 GMT -5
Post by dars on Dec 31, 2022 19:37:58 GMT -5
A M I A S Notice of his acceptance to Barrington Academy came with a chipper flourish from Rodney the mailman. Probably, he was excited by the idea of Amias not waiting at the end of the Jumeauxs' disproportionately-long driveway every single day when the mail came, but he convinced himself it was because he knew how... exciting this news would be: how important. He squeezed the old man on the shoulder and reminded him of the upcoming barbecue his parents were throwing in the coming weekend. Celebrating spring, and another hour of daylight. Once inside, he'd of course immediately opened the letter and gotten the good news. It was confirmed: of over a hundred applicants, Amias had been chosen as the lone representative of District Five in an exchange program with one of the most prestigious career training academies in District One. It was, obviously, unprecedented that those from non-career districts receive any sort of Hunger Games training, so he was aware that his luck ran deeper than academia alone. Though, to be honest, academia was among the least of his wants from life. He was more interested in the high life, of the luxurious living style that could only come from a place like One. He'd certainly never find it if he spent his entire life here, on the outer fringes of Five. The only life he'd find here would be something like what Ambrose wanted: an inherited farmhouse with too many rooms to clean, more acres than he'd know what to do with, and the only girl he'd ever loved next to him. Simple. Admirable. Desirable enough to Amias that he'd been too afraid to give up the possibility of it for himself someday just for the chance to go out and see if there was anything better in the world first. Enter identical twin brother. "Did you already chop the wood for this weekend? If not, I'll probably go do that today." Ambrose waited on the porch as Amias climbed the stairs, rickety old wooden boards groaning with the weight of his steel-toed boots. He knew he looked exactly like his brother: so much a part of this land it was undeniable. But he felt... different inside. Supposed he always had. He wondered if Ambrose felt the same, and that's why he'd agreed to go through with their big plan in the first place. "By the way," he said offhanded, looking out at the early-morning horizon as the chickens began to crow out back, "I got in to Barrington." A thin smile stretched across his lips. "We're going to District One!" |
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