quella quinn | d6 | fin

It wasn't until after Quentin was reaped that I realized how little I knew about him. As soon as he took the stage at the reaping, I saw how he glowed with excitement for what was coming. I was scared for how things would turn out for him in the Games, but also for how excited he seemed for it— how disappointed I knew he'd be.

The Games always terrified me. I couldn't imagine actually wanting to be in them. Maybe that's dumb of me, but I think it's dumber to actually want to go in there and fight to kill other kids to come home a victor. It seemed... really messed up to me.

Quentin and I were close before, but I know we won't be if he comes home. I won't let us be. I'll mourn him if he dies. If he survives? I'll mourn then, too. I'll be mourning who he was before— what I thought I knew about him. It will never be the same, whether he comes home or not.

I know if he dies, people will express their condolences, but I don't want them. If he wanted to go into the Games so badly, maybe he should face the reality of it and not come home the same as he was before: whether that be dead or traumatized.

I shouldn't be wishing for my brother's demise, but it's honestly so hard not to. I feel betrayed. If someone can't be honest with me, I don't want to have them in my life. It makes me wonder who else is lying to me. Is there really anyone I can trust? If I can't trust my own brother, who I thought I was so much like until I was proven totally wrong, who can I actually trust?

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