Treason is a way of life (OPEN)
Aug 1, 2011 17:34:19 GMT -5
Post by Phoenix Fire on Aug 1, 2011 17:34:19 GMT -5
Dagan stood in the doorway of his home looking at the small haggard buildings that some called home around him. Here was where you lived and died if you were a local in his village, homes where families had lived for decades. Yet in his mind a simple sentence seemed to permeate and eat at him like it did everyday We could all have so much more.
These words were so simple yet so illegal. Even the thoughts that fallowed those words were illegal. The idea that with all that the different families harvested each of them could have WAY more then they did. It was such a fantastical idea that Dagan seemed to let it fill him for a moment with a rush of warmth and some kind of self worth. In his mind lived a world where there was no Capitol, where everyone decided for themselves what they would do and where they would go. It was a world that he went to when he was beaten in the town square, or had to listen to a teacher talk about how amazing the Panem government was. It made him sick to hear those words and yet with this world he had built for himself in his mind it seemed almost bearable.
“Dagan are you going to stand there or go to school?” His dads gruff voice came from they’re makeshift kitchen with an edge of amusement. Shafe Grim knew his sons mind was full of treasonous ideas that could get him killed, yet he couldn’t help but be proud of his son. He had once told him that with his ideas that he could one day shape Panem and even maybe help build a new world. It was a wild dream Dagan knew but as he looked back at his father and smirked, cocking his head in a farewell he walked out of his house and headed towards the school building with a sense of satisfaction. He was someone, and one day he would prove it to the world. He would become someone who would raise up the poor of district 11 and help them cause hell for those peacekeepers who had ruined they’re lives. To the Capitol who controlled they’re food intake with such force. These were Dagan Grims dreams that resided inside his head. Though as he walked with a sudden feeling of self-worth it all seemed to be taken away by a sudden bump that nearly knocks him to the dirt path below his feet.
These words were so simple yet so illegal. Even the thoughts that fallowed those words were illegal. The idea that with all that the different families harvested each of them could have WAY more then they did. It was such a fantastical idea that Dagan seemed to let it fill him for a moment with a rush of warmth and some kind of self worth. In his mind lived a world where there was no Capitol, where everyone decided for themselves what they would do and where they would go. It was a world that he went to when he was beaten in the town square, or had to listen to a teacher talk about how amazing the Panem government was. It made him sick to hear those words and yet with this world he had built for himself in his mind it seemed almost bearable.
“Dagan are you going to stand there or go to school?” His dads gruff voice came from they’re makeshift kitchen with an edge of amusement. Shafe Grim knew his sons mind was full of treasonous ideas that could get him killed, yet he couldn’t help but be proud of his son. He had once told him that with his ideas that he could one day shape Panem and even maybe help build a new world. It was a wild dream Dagan knew but as he looked back at his father and smirked, cocking his head in a farewell he walked out of his house and headed towards the school building with a sense of satisfaction. He was someone, and one day he would prove it to the world. He would become someone who would raise up the poor of district 11 and help them cause hell for those peacekeepers who had ruined they’re lives. To the Capitol who controlled they’re food intake with such force. These were Dagan Grims dreams that resided inside his head. Though as he walked with a sudden feeling of self-worth it all seemed to be taken away by a sudden bump that nearly knocks him to the dirt path below his feet.
