I Took a Walk on a Saturday Night || Python

Brandi Knickita Moreno

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I don't even know the point of living anymore.

Ever since Faith died, there has been no point. I've just been walking around mindlessly, blankly staring into nothing. Ever since she died I have had nothing to live for, no joy in my life. At least my fellow Morenos have left me alone, they must've realized that they really fucked up killing my baby. I just can't wait till I get out of the hell that is the Moreno household; living on the street would be better. The threat of being killed would still be there, but at least that thought wouldn't be in the forefront of my mind. Instead of thinking about when I'll next be attacked I'd be thinking of when my next meal is.

Just as scary, but a tiny bit more peaceful.

It really is amazing how my 'siblings' don't bother attacking me anymore. They might not see any point in 'training' with me since I don't fight back. I wouldn't give my pseudo-siblings any semblance of morals, so seeing no point has to be the reason. Not being attacked is nice, yet, at the same time, it is frightening. Just a few years of living in that house and I envision everything as a plot to bring my demise. For all I know, the whole lot of Morenos is devising a plan to kill me - much like they killed my daughter - right now.

But of course they're not planning to kill me. Mama and Papa Moreno have let the others know that they are to just let me be until I move out in a few months. No matter what I'll be out of that mansion, whether it be through the reaping or through turning nineteen, I'll be out. Either way I'll be starving. My parents, alcoholics, have no interest in me. They're just interested in the fame and riches that would come with me winning the games. Even if I were to die, neither pair of my parents would care. The Morenos would see it as another failure, much like Reyes and Jae, while my parents would probably be too drunk to care. Brandi, they named me after hard liquor. They named me after a fucking drink.

At least moving in at the Moreno's house got me away from my parents. That's the only good thing that came with the move to the hell that is my house. I don't have to deal with my asshole, evil, drunkard parents. Especially my dad. If I didn't know better - and believe me, I know better - I'd say he was the one to rape me. He could never walk the distance to the Moreno estate in a drunk state, nor would he be able to enter the house. My new parents keep the house firmly locked at night, not wanting the Peacekeepers to enter and see the full extent of their mansion-turned-arena.

But instead of dealing with it until the next reaping, I escape. I am out of the house as much as possible. Although I always tell my parents that I am training, I'm not. Rarely do I engage in even the slightest cardio; instead I think about what my life, a life that was so promising, has become. At just sixteen raped and pregnant who then devoted her life to the baby girl, only to have that girl taken from me before that girl reached toddler years. The world had been taken from me, and right as I felt that it was being given back, it was taken away again.

It's why I walk, especially why I tend to do so at night.. Just so that i can think about the dream I dreamed what my life would be. It brings just the slightest bit of joy into my life for a few seconds.

At this point, that is all I can ask for.