≓ Charlie Bones ≒ fin

Name: Charlie Surber Bones
Age: Seventeen
Gender: Male
District/Area: District Ten
Codeword: only dis adage is right
Other: Brother to Charisma Bones.

My step-father taught me what love is. Every night he shows me he loves me, every night he tells me he loves me. But I still know I can't let him show my sister his love.

At seventeen years old, I know there is something wrong going on, but whatever it is I can never truly put a finger on it. Even so, as I lay silent long after my step-father shut the door to my room, I know it's got to be something to do with this. There's something abnormal about me, about my family, and I know I gotta hide my step-father's love. Still, love can't be wrong or bad, can it?

My real father left so long ago that I don't remember him, but my mother said I have some of his looks. We share the same floppy brown hair, which not matter what I do with it it always lands in the same way. Our eyes are the same too, some weird shade of green-brown that looks a little too much like mud for my liking. There's also the weird shape of our figures, shorter and somewhat stockier than I would prefer. No matter what I do I can't make myself look proportionate. Compared to my sister I'm a draft to an arab. The likeness is also kinda accurate because I can pull heavier loads than she does, though she's much faster than me.

Still, my step-father loves me, so I must not be ugly - or at least not that ugly. What step-father could love an ugly step-son? Maybe mine, I've heard him tell my Ma and sister they're beautiful enough times, but he never tells me anything like that. Never much talks to me at all, in fact. All he ever says is orders and then some version of "I love you" once he's said goodnight. Some part of me believes him, and some part doesn't. It's not like I have much choice in the matter. He says and does with me what he wants to say and do with me. I'm constantly saddled and bridled, or hooked to a plow. I toil while he cracks the whip at my back to drive me onward.

I act like my mother though, so he tells me, gentle and kind and all. Even so, I feel like there is a cage around me and I yank at the bars that keep me meek. I hate the feeling of being trapped, of having no control and being stuck into one place. 'Cause of that small spaces cause me to have panic attacks. My chest crushes and I can't breathe, I scrabble at the walls until I'm let out, crying like I was two again. Charisma understands, or at least she knows how it affects me, but Ma and my step-father don't seem to care. Sometimes I wonder if he likes hearing me crack.

Maybe that's why he punishes me by locking me under the stairs if I don't do what he wants, he knows it's gonna break me. He doesn't do it to my sister though, it doesn't work on her. She's much tougher than I am, still a mustang while I'm a broke horse. Every time he tries to fetch her from the paddock she kicks and snaps and gives a hell of a fight. Me, I just come when he calls my name, I know he'll come with the halter otherwise. I wish I were as brave as her, maybe if I had fought harder when I was still a colt he wouldn't have broke me so easy.

I know that I should fight, break the bonds he ties me with and run free - I'm almost old enough, just another few months and then I could do it - but I worry about Charisma, and it's a hard worry that I know ain't false. She'd have to come with me, and I don't know how much she's gonna wanna leave Ma. Maybe it's because he's not her step-father. He's Pa to her, even if he'll never be for me. I just don't want to leave her alone with him, ever. I never want her to know the love he gives me, I never want her to know that he gives me love.

My Ma knows, I'm sure she knows. How can she not, there are signs and she's a pretty sharp woman. Still, she don't do anything about it. I hate it, that's another thing I hate. My step-father gives me too much love and my Ma doesn't give me enough. I don't think my step-father gives her enough love so maybe she's jealous. If she is she can take him, I'm tired of the nights and the punishment and his love which sometimes really don't seem like love.

Maybe that's why I hate feeling trapped, because I already am. I need an escape, I need to run. I gotta stop scrabbling at this door and start tryna kick it down. For me, for Charisma. We gotta get out of here.

My step-father may have showed me what love is, but I'm gonna show him what hate is like.

This broke horse is going feral.