Maybe I should pay attention... [Kiah]

Maybe I should pay attention... [Kiah] Apr 11, 2012 23:25:40 GMT -5

Post by InTheDark on Apr 11, 2012 23:25:40 GMT -5

“District 1, the place where jewels flow like waterfall”

The big sign endorsed by the Capitol shone brightly on the side of the building, like if it tried to make publicity for a District who would only send his people to die in a merciless competition. Yeah, right. It was all hard to swallow, so hard to see by our own eyes. It was almost revolting to some extent. The sign, well aligned on the wall, basically said “Here, you live happily while making jewels, until you all die in the Hunger Games for the sake of Capitol enjoyment. Oh, and by the way, the Capitol takes all the jewels and you get the money you will probably never use.” Yes, it was absolutely revolting. But that didn’t shake Onyx’s feelings a bit. He still felt like home. For him, the sign meant what it said. Jewels flowing like waterfall. A utopian dream so convincing, and yet so far away that any attempt to grasp it may result in failure. That’s basically what the District 1: the perfect utopia for the poor and the unworthy.

The town was buzzing with activity, the sound of metal clinging was heard throughout the streets and the jewelers were selling at high prices their products. Onyx saw everything happen on all sides, and he was fascinated. He just looked at all the excitement, all the jewels that were being made before his eyes, and he was just enthralled by the very sight. He just approached a jewel merchant and took out some money that he placed right before him. He asked with a voice full of excitement, but at the same time so spoiled:

“What do you have for sale? Do you have onyx stones?”

He looked at everything he saw. Why onyx stones, you ask? He just loved the color black. Today, he wore his casual attire, an old-looking costume with a black blouse, black pants with black boots and a black cloak falling from his shoulders... Yeah... he really loved the color black. One couldn’t discuss this fact...

He then saw it. A beautiful dark gem on a magnificent ring. It was just so striking, so perfect; it was like Onyx just got a look at the heavens. He then took out more money and said to the merchant:

“I’ll buy this one. It is simply perfect.”

Next thing you know, he is out strolling in the city, his cloak falling on his back, moving with the wind and the ring in his right hand. He looked just like a nobleman walking the streets, wanting attention, glory and praise most of all. Everyone in District 1 would be forced to consider that this ring suited him. In fact, it wouldn’t have suited on anyone else but him. Was he so narcissistic to believe that conception he made up by himself? Was he so focused on himself that he did not see the hateful eyes of the others while he walked by their side, feeling all noble and such? Was he so enthralled by his own self that he did not see the other people in District 1 shunning him with pale, but yet so significant gestures of hatred? No, he never saw them. He was too fascinated by his new ring, something that would soon become a great family heirloom that he could be able to give to his son or his daughter. Then, the legacy will live on, and the ring will go from one child to next...

He never saw where he ended up. Next thing he knew, he felt a fresh breeze. It wasn’t cold, nor was it hot. No, it was just perfect. A fresh breeze that could only tell that he had reached the lake. A little lake was there, in the center of a small plaza. Onyx recognized this place, a place where he would often sit and daydream, always seeing himself in the days before the creation of Panem. He always saw himself with precious family heirlooms, and then he could see himself in the Training Room of the Hunger Games, using a fencing foil to hit hard on a dummy placed right in front of him. He could feel the cold steel in his hands, the smell of metal in his nostrils. He could see the flickering light shining on the steel blade while he struck the dummy relentlessly, hitting each part of the “body” at extreme speeds, never stopping, always hitting. Never stop, always hit. Each time, he could hear his father’s voice, extremely persistent, and yet so calm and soothing. That would keep him going even further...

He never saw where he walked, never looked where his steps lead him. He never saw the Peacekeeper walking his way. When he finally noticed it was far too late.

He simply felt the embrace of the uniform on his body, and he knew he had unintentionally pushed the Peacekeeper. Maybe he should have paid attention. He slightly turned to the Peacekeeper and, with a white smile, he said:

“Terribly sorry, sir. I wasn’t looking. Please, forgive me, it was not in my intention to push you...”

Maybe I should pay attention... [Kiah] Apr 13, 2012 5:04:56 GMT -5

Post by kiah on Apr 13, 2012 5:04:56 GMT -5

I got a hangover, wo-oh!
I've been drinking too much for sure
I got a hangover, wo-oh!
I got an empty cup
Pour me some more

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You lay on your back, colors swirling disorientated around you vision. They are so pretty. You reach out to tries interfere with them, but you only find yourself swiping at thin air, you drop your hand disappointed. The road you lay on feels cold and rough against your exposed skin, but the feeling comforts you. You enjoy it. You laugh hysterically as you rub your skin against the cold ground, trying to absorb every soothing moments, moments to cherish. Because you know every moment counts. Soon you will return to blank boring life you have. Only to return again and remember nothing. Slowly the swirls of color spin around, getting faster and faster. You feel as though you are betting pulled into them, that you are becoming one. That these swirls of color are your life, your only friend. They are why you are living, the only reason. Again you cherish every living moment, as though it will be your last.

Then you fill with horror as the swirling sensation slowly begins to ease, dragging you out of its depths, as you try to fight it, swiping desperately to get back into its insides, for it to become one with you again. But no matter how hard you try the colors start to fade, start to abandon you. Leave you to your own devices. You whimper quietly as you realise that it’s gone. There was no turning back. You watch with little faith as the last of the color dis burst from your view. Disintegrates leaving you staring up into the dark sky that floated heavenly like above you. You sigh to yourself as you realise that being in the middle of a busy road isn’t the best idea. Not for yourself, not for anyone.

Slowly you get up, your head aches as you get unsteadily to your feet. your feet which feel as though they have been sitting in a bucket of ice, and for a moment you actually wonder if they were still there. But to your relief every time you looked down they were there. There walking, or whatever, you wanted them to do, relief feels you, as you stagger down the street towards the lake. The Lake, you let the word swim happily through your mind. Thinking of the lake you remember all the good times you have had their, the lake, yeah and of course the pub, were the best places in District 1. The pub. You are then reminded you that there still is some hope in this world you live in. That booze will always be your friend, just waiting for you to open yourself up to it the waiting for you to let it become one with you. It says to you that it will stay with you longer than any of the marijuana. You can trust me. You can trust the beer.

At the thought you nearly cry. You wanted to declare your love to the alcohol, that would race through your body at every fiery sip. But no today you had decided to head to the lake. What a waste you think to yourself. What a waste.

Your body craved the taste of the fiery liquid, the feeling you get as it slide down your throat. Get a grip of yourself you say to yourself as you wander around on the platform your feet had led you to, come-

You nearly collapse as a little prat runs into you. You feel anger surge through you. No one walks into you. Did they know who you are!? What you could do!? You have trouble trying to ease the anger, then the boy speaks.

“Terribly sorry, sir. I wasn’t looking. Please, forgive me, it was not in my intention to push you...”

you practically grab the boy by the ears, it takes all yourself control to not do it. all of it…

“What the Fuck!” you yell. Losing it. he had called you a bloke! “what are you playing at you mongrel? I’m a chick! I have boobs! Do men have boobs!?” you screech not realising that you grabbed your boobs as you say the words.