D9 // Caution [FIN]

When the night descends
I sleep in
All the things you've done
Come to hold me
All that we can do
Is smile
It would be like this
For a while

My real name is gone with the rest of my innocence.

Of course the three letters are something I'll never forget, lingering at the back of my mind like ants after all the crumbs are devoured. Some people, the ones who I trusted a little too much, use it as a weapon against me, a metaphorical dagger that cuts deeper and rips open more scars that any real knife can. May. As in the month. Or asking for permission. Too many memories and too many people are linked back to my old identity, the one I ditched for a reason.

I guess I should start from the beginning.

I never had a dad. That may be why I instantly think of boys as sleazy no-good jerks, and half the time, I'm right. My mom was - to be brutally honest - a slut. Before she had me, she worked as a prostitue. Having a child meant putting her job aside, and after a while, she wanted to find a new one. For a while, she was off work, and her mother would help her out with the bills and stuff, along with watching me when needed. Eventually, my mom found a job. It was definitely better than her old one. Her new profession was a bit more classy, but it's not too hard to improve when her last job was her selling her body. She became a maid, and wasn't home too much. There were some times, in the middle of the day, where she'd stop home, have a smoke, and be off. Some mornings, she'd have to leave at seven o' clock, and wouldn't be home 'til eight.

My grandma was still around, but it was pretty boring watching her fingers complete the same pattern over and over and over (and over and over) again. That's when I decided a friend might be nice, so I went to my neighbors' house, knocked on the door, and waited.

When the boy finally answered, I was at loss of words.

"Do you want to play?" I had asked.

"I dunno... Lemme ask my mom."

After a few seconds of shouts erupting throughout the house, the boy nodded his head and then we played. His name was Tobias. He liked hopscotch and peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches. He was also the first guy I fell in love with.

We hung out ever since we were seven, and I told him some of my darkest secrets - which, at the time were something as minor as cheating on a test or something. Still, he was my best friend. He was a year older, but age is only a number, right? Then, one day, he had this crazy idea.

"We should run away together."

He said it more of an instruction that an idea. I had agreed. I was thirteen and he was fourteen, we were young and foolish. We were also in love.

"Okay."

That night, we left our homes. We had talked about it, agreeing we weren't going to leave a note to our parents. After all, they had brought us into this terrible world. Looking back on it, it was kind of silly. Even at that age I saw everything in black and white, right and wrong.

Hunter and I - Hunter is the boy I loved, by the way - didn't dare leave the district. All we did was wander the streets at night, and hide in the trees at night. We after talked about our parents and wondered what they were thinking right now. Would they ditch us as easily as we ditched them? And as our backs rested upon the grass, staining our already dirtied shirts, fingers interlocked, looking up at the stars (and each of us knowing this won't and can't last forever, but denying the fact), I was sad. I was sad because I left my mom behind when she never left me. Maybe she wasn't home a lot, but that's because she had to raise money for us. That was for me.

That night was a whirlwind. It was the night I changed my mind about running away, and it was the night I changed my mind about Hunter.

He tried kissing me, and even though I liked him, I pulled away. It was awkward, and as our backs slumped against the tree, I couldn't tell whose heartbeat I was hearing. I know mine was strong enough to shake the whole tree, so maybe his was, too. Then, a little bit later, he tried again, and I didn't pull away. It was my first real kiss, because truth-or-dare doesn't count, and neither do family member kisses. I didn't really know if I was good or not, but I'm assuming I was because he kept coming back for more. It kind of reminded me of a fish out of water. Then, he slid his hands up my shirt and I let him.

I had sex with him.

I was going to lose my virginity eventually, and I'm glad it was with Hunter. At least I loved him, and at least he meant a lot to me.

Turns out he didn't feel the same way about me.

The morning after, he decided we should go home, so I agreed. When I got home, a bunch of stuff happened that I'll talk about later, but the thing that hurt the most was the relationship me and Hunter had. He completely ignored me, stating that he doesn't ever remember kissing me. It was like there was a new Hunter, but I knew there wasn't I finally found out he was like all of the other guys; all he wants a girl for is sex. We haven't talked ever since.

So anyways, I want to tell you want happened when I get home.

My mom wasn't home, and I knew she wouldn't be because it was two o' clock on a tuesday and she cleans some old lady's house from one-thirty to two-thirty on tuesdays. When she finally got home, she was pissed off. "Wh- Wh... Where the fuck have you been?!" All I could was stare at her with my thin, brown hair falling past my shoulders and my big, brown eyes which were starting to tear. My bones felt weak, weaker then before. But they've always been small, fragile. I started crying, and then I ran up to her and hugged her, and she did the same. "I love you I missed you I love you I missed you IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou ImissedyouImissedyouImissedyou." My tears drip off my chin onto her maroon shirt, but I don't think she'll care. We stay like that for a while, telling each other how much it sucked with out each other. That night, we sat on the small couch, and watched some old-time movie through the grody TV, but I doubt she was really watching the movie, I wasn't. The only thing on my mind was our legs, arms, hands, and feet tangling like vines. I had missed snuggling with her. I remember the nights I'd cry because of a stomach-ache, and she would let me hop into bed with her. She would wrap her arms around me like she was a knight and I was her fair maiden. Like she was protecting me from all evils.

Well, I was grounded for three months, but I can't say I didn't deserve it. The only time I could leave the house was for school or family affairs, like my grandma dying.

It was really sudden, her death, it went by in a heartbeat. She found out she had pancreatic cancer, and two weeks later, she died. She was old, anyways, and she had to be fighting off the disease for quite some while without medication.

My mom was devastated.

Eventually, things went back to normal. Almost a year after she passed away - I was fourteen - things seemed to shift into place. My mom was steadily working again. I wasn't as distracted in school. It was kind of surprising how quickly we got back into the swing of things. It was kind of like an earthquake hit, but no one remembered it. They sure felt the aftershock, but no one acknowledged it.

After that, my life was substantially boring for a while. Then, out of the blue, I got really depressed. I didn't tell my mom, though, she would only say that it's a teenager thing. Or she'd get worried that I'd run away again.

The thing about the latter is that there's no one to run away with.

I was thirteen.

It couldn't hurt to ask, right?

So one day, I went to my neighbors' house, and I knocked on the door. When the boy opened it up, my mind went blank. I haven't seen him up close in a while. Sometimes, in the hallway, I'd get a peek.

"I'm depressed."

"Come inside."

Apparently his parents weren't home because the house was really quiet. You could hear a pin drop. Then, he took me to his basement. It was really dark down there and smelled disgusting, like he are food down there and never brought it upstairs. It's ironic because that's what happened. The dust was prevalent through the small window, casting a minuscule beam of light. He could surely pull that string and the lightbulb would turn on, but he never did.

I could hear his hands shift around on the table, fingering the items. His body blocked my vision, but when he turned around, I saw what it was. White-as-snow grains on a spoon.

"Do you want to feel better?"

"Yes."

The rest is history.

Let's just say that experience led me to who I am today.

When I was sixteen I ran away. For good. I got a job as a drug dealer. It's pretty easy, actually. I get the stuff, I sell the stuff, I get money, I give money. The cycle practically goes on forever. Every now and then, I might drop some money off at my mom's place, and I think she's starting to suspect it's me. I don't care though, I miss her.

The person I get the drugs from? My neighbor. He ran away, too, and we're dating. We live together in a ratty apartment, and although we're struggling, things are starting to look better. Besides him, my only real friend is Pudge, a cat I found on the street. I mean, I guess I have acquaintances, but that's all they are. The only thing is, Tobias abuses me, physically and verbally, but I don't have the guts to leave him. I know it's better to stay with him than leave.

And so I stay.

speech
thoughts
other
other speech

No way, no way
No we're never gonna talk about it
No way, no way
No we're never gonna speak again
No way, no way
No we're never gonna talk about it
No way, no way

odair

F A C E C L A I M : Jennifer Sullins
She's eighteen and lives in District Nine.
Real name is May Waters.
I said Tobias for his name originally but then changed it to Hunter but then back to Tobias because I have no clue what his name will be.