Just throw it all away (OPEN)

"hmm....Oh hi!"

Yep, she definitely did not notice the > six-foot boy sitting next to her.

She has short black hair that's so filled with barrettes of different colors that her hair looks like a living, breathing rainbow. Yeah, that's it. A rainbow.

She's wearing a dress that's supposed to be a bright green, but it's become desaturated by so much usage. Her shoes are going through a similar pattern, but instead of becoming faded, they're ripping apart at the seams. She's pretty much just walking with a bunch of leather wrapped around her feet.

Her eyes widen. I figure that she's going to run away, like everyone at school does. But she doesn't. Instead, she comes closer, and stares at me so closely our noses are almost touching.

"Oh wow, your eyes, they look like the sky,"

She takes a double-take, looking at my eyes, then back to the sky. She points to a point in the sky where the clouds have become a purple hue.

"How do you do that it's amazing" she says. She's talking very rapidly, her eyes filled with curiosity. It's touching really, to have someone who is actually interested in something about you for a change.

"I wear blue contacts, but my eyes make it look purple." I say. I hope she doesn't leave so soon. Most people don't have enough money for contacts, let alone colored ones. People tend to shun others who they think are snobs, just because they're better off. But this girl doesn't seem to think like that, so she might stay a little longer. Maybe.

"Fun, wish I had some, I'd do different ones everyday, maybe even do pure white ones for the reaping. Then if I was reaped people would think I was blind and I'd get all the sponsorship money. You should try it"

I never thought about that. It's an interesting ploy, but not a very good one. As soon as that gong rings, everyone would realize that you're not blind.

But she's got quite an imagination. I guess you need one to get through the day, especially when you don't have wealth on your side.

"I'm Mindy by the way"

She holds out her hand, gesturing for me to shake her hand in greeting. I do so without hesitation. Dad tells me to to converse with the "poor folk", that they'll just try to steal money.

It's just wonderful that a man with such power thinks of his citizens that way. Well, I'm going to be different than him. After I wow him with my hopefully awesome acting skills, and become a household name in the Capitol, I'm going to actually make my district better.

We shake hands, I have a slight smirk on my face. I'm not trying to look scary or anything, I just don't really like smiling. Especially because I'm normally not really happy or anything.

"I'm Greg."

"Oh I've heard about you but... you're not scary at all."

Alright. So she has heard about me. At least she knows that she's not talking to some complete stranger.

But now the aura surrounding us has become thick with discomfort and awkwardness. I blush a bit. It's sort of embarrassing to be known as some big scary dude, and not seem that scary at all. But I'll live. It's not like my reputation will cause me to die or something.

"Sorry"

"It's alright."

I look down at my lap. There's a small basket, filled with rolls. Dad ordered them from the baker for this event. They're pretty fancy. I mean, there's swirls and patterns all over them, causing it to looks a lot less appetizing than they actually are. Or at least, that's what happens to me. Those Capitolites just gobbled them up like there was going to be no tomorrow.


I rip one roll up into small pieces, and throw them out into the open water. As if I've rang a gong that started a war, seagulls come from all directions, fighting to grab pieces of soggy bread. It's survival of the fittest. The rich and strong prosper, while the weak and poor are weeded out.

Flour, yeast, eggs, milk. This is what separates the starving from the full.

I turn to Mindy, and place the basket in front of her.

"You can have these if you want. I'm not really hungry anyways."

I don't think that what I'm doing is rude, but sometimes people just don't want help. But Mindy looks like she hasn't eaten much in days, and well, people need to eat stuff.

Instead of taking the basket immediately, Mindy gives me something in return instead. She doesn't have to do that, but she says that her parents will think that she's been begging on the streets.

There are many things that can separate the poor from the rich. From hunger, to jobs, all of that matters. But there is one thing that the poor will always have, while the rich will seldom own it.

Pride.


Her parents don't want to be beggars. Hell, no one wants to be a beggar. So refusing to accept anything without giving something in return is a pretty good compromise. I think.

"Umm... thank you..."

I gently take the purple necklace from Mindy's hand. It's all melted, so I have no idea what the shape of this originally was. Maybe a cursive G? Or a heart? I'm not sure. But the hue is nice.

I quietly put the necklace in my pocket, just to keep it safe. It's a nice thing that she's done. No one has ever given me anything. Well, except for my scar. It's probably very visible now. I mean, the mist from the water is making all of the.......powder......disappear. I don't like wearing make-up, but if that's what it takes to act and to cover up this scar, I'll do it.

It's relatively easy to relive that moment. I find myself slipping away from the dock. I can see time rewind, to that day, so many years ago.

Dusk had already settled in, coating everything with a greyish blue hue. The house was silent. Mother was in the lounge, yelling at one of the maids about the chandelier or something like that.

I was in my room. It's relatively small compared to the rest of the house, but I like it that way.

The math problem was a hard one. At least, I wasn't sure if I had gotten it right. My dad was valedictorian or something, so he expected me to be the same. But I wasn't. I was near the top though, but it wasn't enough for him.

I walked down the hall, my bare feet barely making a sound against the wood grains. Looking back, I probably should have tripped or something. Then at least I would have made a noise.

But that didn't happen.

The french doors were wide open, so I thought that he wasn't there. But he was. I could her him muttering something under his breath. I was hesitant to go in at first. I don't like it when he's muttering. But I needed help, so I walked past the open door.

The last thing I saw was a china pattern. Then, there was blood. There was blood everywhere, pouring from my face. I was blinded by the red liquid that didn't seem to stop. I heard yelling, a scream. Then silence.


I absentmindedly trace the scar underneath my eye. It's more noticeable now because none of the powder is there. It's around the size of my eyelid, a straight line, parallel to my eye. At least I wasn't blinded. It's raised and discolored, so it will be noticeable now. But no one ever really looks me in the eyes, so nobody really notices.

Did it hurt? I'm not sure. I think I had blocked the pain from my memory. But I try to remember.
And I do.

"It was a vase. And it did hurt. But I guess I deserved it."

Did I deserve it? My father thinks that I did. Payback for not being the best I guess. But what does he know? He never had to try to do anything before. Except maybe becoming mayor. But I'm still not sure if he won fair and square anyways.

"Or maybe I didn't. I'm not too sure anymore."

You know what, I didn't deserve it. I was doing my best, right? And isn't that what you're supposed to do? Do your best? At least, that's what I've heard. No one's confirmed that to me anyways.

"But I do know that the vase hit me, and there was blood. And I got this scar."