-- emmiline hope -- d8 -- fin --

I used to be outgoing and talkative. I used to have a lot of friends. I used to be admired by the outcasts at school. I used to be my brother. But now I'm the outcast that admires others. The old hopeful who tries to work her way up to the top. A has-been. Or maybe even a never-was. I'm just one of those people who could stand in the middle of the room and others would just see right through me. No one ever gives me a second glance. I guess it gets pretty lonely sometimes. I've been simply swept beneath the rug while my brother continues to shine. But I could never possibly be jealous of him. I still love him. I love every single person in my family. No matter what happens.

I tend to be very out of the box. I like to paint with mashed up berries or even water when the resources are low. Sometimes I steal broken pencils at the factory, slipping them into my pockets. Or making leafy flowers out of grass and maples. Crowns of flowers that rarely grow except in spring. Upcycle clothes that are too small, sometimes for Lily, sometimes for me. It's nice to have an artist's eye. To see things only you can see, like faces smiling at you in the knotted bark of trees or a butterfly in the shape of clouds. I don't see the sky, I see an abyss of creatures brought to life by my own imagination. It's a beautiful world to live in. But it's a lonely one, too.

I tend to be overly protective with my family. Lily and Paige in particular. It's a harsh world to come into, with the games and all the killing and dying that comes along with it. I kept it for as long as I could away from the two of them. They used to give me nightmares. I suppose I'm just lucky to make it this far. But I'm scared for Lily and Paige. So, so scared. And Preston as well. But against the Capitol, I am powerless. I don't want anything to happen to this perfect family; it's so wonderful and whole and happy. Even if we are struggling with money. It's the only thing I have now.


As Preston and I grew up, things were changing. It's seemed that the more we aged, the father we went apart. He went from being the smart and nerdy kid I always knew to a stranger who had charisma and skill. I went from being a chatty little girl who wasn't afraid of saying anything or talking to anyone into a shy little introvert who wants to have friends but can never really muster the courage to go up to someone. Art was the only clear way to express myself. Like all of my thinking, but I don't use words, I use drawings and sketches and kites made out of saps, a few sticks, and some leaves. ( It never worked, but for many weeks I tried to fly it. ) Preston and I completely switched places. I'm not sure whether I like it that way or not. But, everything happens for a reason. And I couldn't feel so bad for myself, because watching him come home grinning from ear to ear was the best feeling, like the feeling I felt when I held Paige or Lily. Like, as long as some person is happy, I'll be alright too.

Our parents made the mistake of exposing me to the games. I remember screaming, having nightmares that I was reaped, that I was bleeding to death, or that Preston or Lily or Paige were dying on screen and all I could do was press my fingertips to the screen because I was so helpless. I remember asking if I could sleep with Mom or Dad or Preston, but I always ended up alone, shaking in my bed. Perhaps it was better for my parents to make me not become reliant. All those sleepless nights have helped me view the games. Of course, Preston and I never let Lily or Paige view the games. Though something tells me they have been when we weren't around. It was probably easy, since we all work at a pencil factory. The only good thing about it was sneaking home one that I found cracked in half on the ground there. And I would draw and draw and draw until dawn. And I would watch Preston come home, happy as could be, gaining popularity. And I would be happy for him, too. I would ask how his day was, never being bothered how he never asked me. I tuck Lily and Paige in every night, kissing them on their foreheads and telling them stories or singing to them until they fell asleep. I love my family so much. Nothing can ever make me stop loving them.