Cold, Alone and Starving {open}
Apr 17, 2012 21:21:45 GMT -5
Post by Timtab on Apr 17, 2012 21:21:45 GMT -5
I sit in the shadows, shivering and watching the many pairs of legs wall by. Some shoot pitiful glances at me, but no one offers to help. My usual tidy brown hair is in disarray, tangled and covering half my face.
Only two hours ago, I was at home, in my room, watching the people on the street. But now...now I'm alone. No one cared about me, so I ran. When I'm scared or mad, I run. Which happens to be quite often. No one would notice I was gone, and if they did, who cared? Nothing matters anymore. Not even my life. I'm seriously considering to volunteer for the games and kill myself.
I sneeze loudly, curling up into a tighter ball. The streets of District 2 are warm and almost friendly on spring days, but at night, the temperatures seem to plummet. Obviously, this is not to my advantage.
I'm wearing black pants and a white shirt, with a black jacket that doesn't provide much warmth. I have two small loaves of bread at my feet, and an apple. Wait, one loaf. I glance up to see a dog eating the last scraps of the precious food.
"Hey!" I yell, using all my strength to kick the dirty mutt back into the streets. My second loaf of bread is gone. I'm very tempted to eat something, but I won't until I'm almost starving. If I eat now, the food will disappear so fast. And then I'll die. My mind again wanders to the games.
If I entered and thought like this the whole time, I believe I would have a fairly good chance of winning. I might grab one or two weapons from the horn, maybe some food, then wait out the other tributes. I know I wouldn't be able to fight them and survive. I'm so light and lack strength, most people could beat me up without weapons.
But I'm fast. I can beat anyone in District 2 at running competitions. And I can climb. I consider these traits carefully, then start to think of the district streets as the games. The odds slowly turn to my favor, as I observe my resources from a new point of view. One of a tribute.
I have a loaf of bread and an apple...that should keep me going for at least three days. I might be able to find a few scraps in the trash cans, and maybe some people will have the heart to through me some food. But I doubt it. Judging by how they e reacted for the past two hours, I don't believe they care a penny for me.
Only two hours ago, I was at home, in my room, watching the people on the street. But now...now I'm alone. No one cared about me, so I ran. When I'm scared or mad, I run. Which happens to be quite often. No one would notice I was gone, and if they did, who cared? Nothing matters anymore. Not even my life. I'm seriously considering to volunteer for the games and kill myself.
I sneeze loudly, curling up into a tighter ball. The streets of District 2 are warm and almost friendly on spring days, but at night, the temperatures seem to plummet. Obviously, this is not to my advantage.
I'm wearing black pants and a white shirt, with a black jacket that doesn't provide much warmth. I have two small loaves of bread at my feet, and an apple. Wait, one loaf. I glance up to see a dog eating the last scraps of the precious food.
"Hey!" I yell, using all my strength to kick the dirty mutt back into the streets. My second loaf of bread is gone. I'm very tempted to eat something, but I won't until I'm almost starving. If I eat now, the food will disappear so fast. And then I'll die. My mind again wanders to the games.
If I entered and thought like this the whole time, I believe I would have a fairly good chance of winning. I might grab one or two weapons from the horn, maybe some food, then wait out the other tributes. I know I wouldn't be able to fight them and survive. I'm so light and lack strength, most people could beat me up without weapons.
But I'm fast. I can beat anyone in District 2 at running competitions. And I can climb. I consider these traits carefully, then start to think of the district streets as the games. The odds slowly turn to my favor, as I observe my resources from a new point of view. One of a tribute.
I have a loaf of bread and an apple...that should keep me going for at least three days. I might be able to find a few scraps in the trash cans, and maybe some people will have the heart to through me some food. But I doubt it. Judging by how they e reacted for the past two hours, I don't believe they care a penny for me.
