bambi. 11. cbd one. fin!

bambi !

I'm eighteen years old and ain't never learned how to say no to somebody. A kind friend once told me I was a people-pleaser and another, not-so-kind, said I was a doormat. So they call me Bambino as a joke because Bambi can't say no. I just laughed with them and went along with the nickname.

Maybe next year I'll get brave enough to respond with something other than yes when a person needs my help. Or the one after that. Or never. But this world is cruel enough as it is and I don't see the problem in trying to elleviate another's burdens if I can help.

Not like I've got much to do here anyway, my reading and writing is acceptable and deliverin' the post ain't bad, rolling around on the rusted bicycle my Pa fixed up for me. Chain needs oiling after every ride but I can manage that just fine. 

Maybe after the reaping I'll decide to do something for myself for a change. But the idea of being selfish in a place like Eleven just doesn't sit right. I have enough. I have my bike, and I have Pa, and I have friends and an errands job that pays, and we get by with what we have. Sometimes we even have warm bread - though I get so swept up in other people that half the time I make it home too late and it's gone cold. 

Maybe I'll learn to make bread myself next year. Yeah. That'll be what I do for myself: teach me something. And then I can make bread for others in need, too. Drop em off with my papers. My name ain't Bambi-yeah but, hell, it sounds like a good idea.