scalla aita . d1 . fin [next gen. event]

Lorenza was ten years older than me, back when she was still alive. She was like a big sister to me, despite being my cousin. Her side of the family was always really close with mine. I was only eight years old when she was reaped for the Games, but we were so close with one another, that it devastated me to no end.

Now, over a decade— nearly two— has passed, and I still don't feel quite right about it all. I was in therapy for grief (from her death, as well as my mother's in the same year) and trauma (from watching everything that happened to Lorenza in the Games) for a long time. It was about ten years or so, actually. Honestly, sometimes I feel like I need to go back.

I still have dreams about what happened to her sometimes, watching in horror, helpless as the other tributes ripped her apart in such a ruthless way in that arena. It's tattooed on my brain. Those memories will never go away.

My mother died shortly after Lorenza did, within the same year. She'd gotten extremely ill, and there was nothing that I could do to possibly help her. My siblings didn't know what to do either. We all just had to watch as she died, as we couldn't afford to pay doctors to help her. It was terrible.

After what happened to my mother, I vowed to do whatever I could to help our family. My oldest sister, Katarina, took care of us all. My other siblings and I, that is. She worked two jobs, and my brother, Ramien, who was also old enough to work, worked one himself as well.

When I was twelve, I began career training. Katarina made me wait until then because she didn't want me to get hurt, but I would've started sooner if she had let me. I trained for years, knowing I'd never volunteer but preparing myself in case I ever got picked for the Games. I wanted to be ready, just in case.

Once I was old enough to have a job, I started working. I've been working at the same place ever since, except now I own it. It's a small bakery in the District Square. We make pastries, cakes and other delicious sweets. The people of District One love it, and they're usually willing to pay well for desserts made with as much heart and effort as we put into them.

Now that I'm older and making enough money, I was able to move out on my own and support myself, as well as my husband, Manuel. He's the best thing that's ever happened to me, supporting me for the seven years we've been together. He's patient and kind, and I appreciate everything about him.

I've always been told that I'm a lot like Lorenza was: chaotic, brash, a little irrational, but overall a well-meaning and kindhearted person. I take that as quite the compliment, as I'd always looked up to her. She and I got into a lot of trouble when I was a kid, as she'd often let me do things that our parents wouldn't allow. Sometimes, she'd even encourage it. That was something I loved about her. She wasn't afraid of the rules, and as a result, neither was I.

I'm a bit more law-abiding than I was when I was younger, though. I follow the basic rules for the District: no leaving the fences, no arguing with the Peacekeepers. You know, the works. Still, sometimes I wish I could get into innocent, troublemaking predicaments like I did as a kid without the backlash of what happens when you do that kind of stuff as an adult.

There's always been a rebellious side to me, just like Lorenza had. I just wish I could have used it more like she did.

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637 words