Holding Onto a Memory {sweetlilmockingjay]

(*Rolls eyes* I fixed it )


I observe the sky wondering what time it could be. Not that it really mattered to me. Maybe if I go home later my father will be asleep; passed out on the couch or if it’s a bad day on the floor. I know I shouldn’t get my hopes up as the last time I went home late expecting him to be asleep he wasn’t. The result being the bruise lying prominent on the features of my face.

"It must have been considering you refused to tell me at first" She comments calmly.

“I just don’t tell my name to just anyone,” This would be true. I rarely introduce myself to people; I mean what’s the point?

“Oh? Why not?” This question seems to bounce around in my skull as I try to come up with an answer. The reason being I just don’t want to get close to anyone and giving my name is the first step to opening up which I still curse at myself for doing.

The best answer I can think of to give to her is, “I just don’t see the point.”

She falls back into silence for a moment before she breaks it again, “How old are you.”

I raise my eyebrow at this seemingly random question, “I’m seventeen almost eighteen why?” I’m not sure how what my age is ties in with anything. Age is, but a number. Although in our society age means everything.

"I haven't seen you around school or the training centre..." She mumbles. There would be reasons for that which I could easily explain if I wanted to. I’m away from school allot usually because of suspension as I get myself into fights quite frequently as for not being seen in the training hall that is a completely different story.

“I hang out on my own at school as for the training hall I never go there; I train on my own,” I shrug lightly. My father doesn’t want anyone to see the talents I have developed over the years explaining why he has banned me from going to the training center. Instead I train out in the woods away from prying eyes.