erastus fox | district eight | wip

e r a s

" pick it all up
and start a g a i n "

{n a m e: } erastus fox
{a g e: } eighteen
{d i s t r i c t: } eight
{g e n d e r: } male

"You know why we named you Erastus? Because it means 'loved.'"

Loved? Who would have thought that was something that could be so conditional? At first, yeah, they loved me. They loved me as much as a parent could love their child, but time has a way of changing things. Wednesday strolls to the small playground slowly disappeared and were replaced with breakfast starting without me, along with claims that they definitely shouted for me to wake up but I never came down. Friday game night was erased from existence because my father was suddenly too tired from work. I took it all with a smile, told myself all of their claims really were true, but I knew it was all my fault.

Time changed me, and in doing so, ruined my relationship with my entire family.

Even my sister, as close as we once were, seemed annoyed with the fact that I grew up more reserved and quiet, annoyed that I preferred objects over people and, if I am being honest, annoyed that I preferred boys over girls. It seems that after that particular revelation when I was fourteen was when things really spiraled into dark oblivion.

So, basically, I have spent my entire adolescence with one person, one boy that never really judged me or treated me like I was the one person in our family that truly shouldn't have been born. That person? He is dead now. I watch day after day of the games, becoming more and more hopeful that he may have actually won. He got past the top eight mark and everyone was extremely excited. Interviewers came and questioned us about him and his past for columns in the Capitol newspapers and magazines, they asked for pictures of him when he was younger, asked for random facts that would make fans swoon, and then they were gone. They left and as we all watched them fade in the distance I felt a new sense of hope, that if this was how important he already was, he as much too valuable to just be murdered and left to die. Within twenty-four hours, his cannon filled the air.

I wasn't sure if it was actually his cannon, or just my own heart pounding out of my chest at first, but then the hovercraft appeared and claimed his body. Then they shipped him back to us in a simple wooden box, and we buried him. Owen was gone for good. It was only supposed to be about a month, but instead he would never return. Even with his body lying in the dirt, his soul was far, far away, and that made me feel more alone than I had ever been.

I guess his death has somewhat brought my family closer together. I am no longer just someone with the same soft blue eyes and round features as the people around me. I am Eras, the brother, the son, the cousin, the friend again. I appreciate that, but I don't like that it took my favorite person's death for my own family to love me.

I couldn't look at myself in the mirror for the longest time. I tried hiding behind my long, dark hair and the spectacles I have had since I was younger, but it didn't work.

{c o d e w o r d: } odair
{f a c e c l a i m: } grant gustin
{l y r i c s: } here
{c o l o r s: } here