Alaska

{ooc: i didn't have anywhere else to put this, because i didn't create cygnus nor did anyone else so i can't rp it}

so goodnight moon and goodnight you
when you're all that I think about
all that i dream about
how'd i ever breathe without
a goodnight kiss from goodnight you

I woke up that day coughing.

I don't even know why I still remember that. It's been a week already, but that day is still running on repeat in my head. I remember coughing, not bothering to cover my mouth because no one was in bed with me. Alaska was down the hall, probably still dreaming or just laying idly in bed. Most of the time, families take this morning as an excuse to eat whatever they want for breakfast, because it might be one of the children's last. The downside is, they might have a scarce amount of food left after that. Us, the Putley's, we've never done that. It's stupid. We've heard from rumors and interviews and even in our school textbooks that the Capitol has some of the nicest foods in the world, ones that people like us - who live off of eggs and bacon - would scarf down in a heartbeat. That's what we ate that morning, it's what we ate every morning. I remember it being the best and worst plate of food I've ever eaten in my life. Cough.

You're looking at yourself, holding your olive-green dress in front of your body, examining your body in the mirror. You can't help but think about how barely eating has payed off; financially and physically. In your opinion, you look 100 times better than before. But Alaska doesn't agree with you, Cygnus, and you hate that. You hate how she makes you eat because it's your life. But you also know she does it because she loves you, Cygnus. As Alaska walks past your room, she motions with her hands to come to the kitchen and eat. Cough.

Most of the time, Alaska didn't bother me in the morning. But this was different, it was the day of the Reaping. Even if we were the only ones there, it was still a special thing. Sure, we didn't eat blueberry muffins while enjoying a gallon of orange juice each, but it was still nice. And it was just us two. Alaska didn't make the food yet, but she was searching in the fridge for the carton of eggs and the bacon. After about thirty seconds, her hands came out of the fridge with breakfast, and she closed the fridge with her feet. Cough.

You realize what a mistake you've made, Cygnus. How for the past year, you've pretty much starved yourself down to fit society's picture. And as you watch Alaska crack one, two, three, four eggs, you realize how lucky you are. Even if your mom is six feet under or above the clouds, and your dad is away most of the time working, you still have it good. You have money, you have a house, and you have a family. That's all you've needed, Cygnus, and you're finally realizing it. "Alaska," you start to announce, "I'm sorry." Cough.

I remember sitting on the stool behind the counter, while watching Alaska lay the bacon down on the other half of the skillet. I don't know if she knew what I was sorry for, and if she did, that she'd accept it. All I know from that moment was that we avoided eye-contact. At least I did. The smell of the bacon and eggs wasn't particularly strong, but I remembered it smelling like hope. Knowing that these eggs and bacon might be the things I eat and keep eating. They could of been the foods that stopped me from anorexia. "Cygnus," Alaska started to say, sounding all serious, "How would you like your eggs?"

[/b] At first I thought she was going to say how everything will be all right and it's fine and we can start over today. "Sunny-side up." I answered. I was dying inside, and now I wasn't afraid to make eye-contact. I needed to talk to her. I doubted it at the time, but I kept telling myself this could be my last chance. "Alaska..." Cough.[/color]

As Alaska slaps the eggs and bacon onto your plate, you notice how her face scrunches up. When she slides the plate over to you, she gives you a look: eat.

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