jeremiah montgomery [d10] [wip]

Jeremiah Montgomery
Male// 18 // District Ten

I think the world might become a better place if we all started to become disabled.

The games would be a lot more brutal, but I think realizing one day you won't be able to see your lover when you wake or be able to hear the sound of your mother's voice singing in the kitchen anymore, you began to really live life. You begin to appreciate everything the way you should, even if Ripred hasn't given you much. I wouldn't say that you live life recklessly, but it's more like you lose your sense of caring. It's something so easy to let go of when you realize how petty it is. Why should I care that my clothes are sown out whatever scraps my mom finds abandoned along pathways or hanging over the lip of a trash bin? Is it supposed to bother me that I have to jump at any opportunity to help feed Ma and Pa and Destinette and Kallie and Houston and Buddy? I guess I should, but things stopped bothering me once Ma pointed out how my left lens began to cloud.

I guess I should've known I was going blind before she said that, but I figured it was just the drought making me squint. Things became a little blurry and faded, as if I was constantly tipsy. Ever since Miss Saffron Lowe came home victorious, things began to change. The land was like the one of the fifty-eighth arena. It was always hot and dry and all forms of life began to drop like flies. I don't know if we were being punished for having more victors that the career district of Four, or if it was just something that happened like the earthquake in One a few years back. I guess if it was the first one, we wouldn't have taken Eleven with us.

I was outside all the time helping clear away all of the fallen cattle, and I guess the sun got to me. I never liked wearing the straw hat Ma fashioned me; I guess that came back to bite me in the rear. I remember the stupid mistakes I made like staring at the sun with my hands in my pockets while I waited for a supervisor to come collect me. I know you aren't supposed to look into the sun. It's something you hear since you're a kid, but it was something that fascinated me. How was it that it was beating on us so hot and bright, yet it was so far away? Another thing I'd heard from a young age was the phrase "curiosity killed the cat" and I supposed it did. Or, since I was only blind in one eye at the moment, I guess curiosity had only maimed me for the time being.

Once my disability had become something visible, I had become both more serious and carefree at the same time. I took my jobs more seriously; instead of letting them come to me, I went to them. It was something I'd had to do since I turned fifteen. Ma and Pa hadn't meant to raise five kids. Kallie and Houston came out as unexpected twins, and Buddy was the godchild of Ma's late sister. We didn't live in that big of house-Ma and Pa had a room, Destinette, Kallie, and Buddy shared another, and Houston and I slept on the couches-but it was still hard to pay the bills.

When I wasn't working, though, I tried to spend as much time with my younger siblings as possible. Destinette was a couple months shy from sixteen and was far too sophisticated to play with the rest of us. The twins were thirteen and the most excitable of the family; Buddy was a little distant from us, but I never failed to get a smile or laugh out of her whenever I'd goof off with the twins. Buddy's mom passed away at the beginning of the drought, much like most that had been lost during these years; most had underestimated how bad the heat could be. She never had a dad around, so she was passed on to us two years ago. It wasn't hard to treat her like a sister. she looked like all of us, dark hair and dark eyes and slightly browned skin. She came to us as Meg, but we all agreed that she could be called Buddy, an affectionate nickname from her mom.

Ma often told me that all of them worshiped me as if I was the son of Ripred, and I've never known what to make of that. I was nothing more than a six foot tall wounded pup. I suppose I was a good role model. I tried to teach them to not judge things based on the outside, but they would merely retaliate with "You're only sayin' that 'cause soon you won't be able to see the outside!" I couldn't really deny it; outsides were becoming harder to see and insides were becoming easier to see. I found it easier to be compassionate and loving and sympathetic and birthed a hope that they would see as I do.

It was hard being in the house sometimes, especially since Ma is out everyday looking for odds and ends jobs. I was basically the head figure of the house most days, and it was nerve-wracking. I was grateful, of course, for the whole reason behind my dad working almost all hours of the day and my mother eventually following suit. I knew that it was only a matter of time before I went blind in both eyes. I knew there was no chance we'd ever have enough money to get any kind of medical procedures done, but they wanted life to be easier for me. They wanted to build a room off of theirs for me in case any accidents occurred at night.