distraction // [mara0107]
Feb 2, 2013 17:43:23 GMT -5
Post by wimdy on Feb 2, 2013 17:43:23 GMT -5
Another year spent watching the select few from the gene pool clash upon dark ground and even darker blood. Another year spent sitting on the sidelines, waiting for a turn in the Games that spin and mix lives and deaths. Another year spent feeling completely empty and devoid of life, of feeling itself. My eyes coldly watch the screen, mouth set in a solid line. My brows are furrowed low, scrunched together in concentration as I try to track the movement on the giant showing screen before me. The District Square is nearly empty, save for the few of us who watch the fighting begin. The countdown struck zero and then everything fractured into splinters of letal injections. Now all I can do is watch in rapt attention, waiting for every sickening blow. One tribute from my district strikes hard and true through the skull of another, the other a boy stumbling about and crashing into others as he escapes. A coward, boy. That's what he is.
My eyes sweep quickly on the small group around me, noticing distraught faces of family members and glints of wonder in the eyes of others. All of we Careers are stoic, but intense. We analyze every swing, every punch, every trip, every move. I am so focused on the action before me that I do not care to pay attention to the people around me any longer. I cannot be distracted. In the Games, distraction would mean my death. I don't plan on losing.
