in my defence// tsiuri&noah

I was over the training center. A few days in, and I have not exactly proven to be the most skilled of fighters. Part of me longed to be like the careers from the upper districts, trained with little concern to humanity as a concept. Unfortunately, I was more than aware of the existential dread that lingered in what I would consider most people. It almost became insulting to watch how little they seemed to be able to acknowledge that. I just did not have anything I could channel that anger into, so I swallowed it as I stabbed a needle into some fake skin.

In all honesty I was not trying that hard, my mistake. That would be something I might regret later…I’ll just add it to the list.

By now, I should know better than to spend too much time in a place that made me miserable. I preferred the library even if I was equally lacking the talent to truly reap the most benefits. Coming into this I had been so convinced that I could do it, two years ago even ready to volunteer. Each day passing by seemed to prove just the opposite. Far behind the other tributes in just about everything, only my own conviction to say otherwise. The voices of those back home, the ones waiting for me to make it back, they seemed to fade a little each day.

Soon they might be just a couple of whispers.

The world shouting at me to give up, but I was never one to do that. I would sit around at a stupid first aid station, pouting in anger and frustration but I wouldn’t lay down to die. It has always been that way, never naturally gifted, even having to learn what I. now consider my greatest strengths. I just needed some time to grovel and get over it.

With my currents fake skin in a worse state than I had found it, I reluctantly turned to the closest tribute. “Hey, you mind passing me another one?” I held up the fake sin filled with puncture wounds and shredded layers of skin. “I think I may have killed him” I joked at my own lack of ability.