no time for chit-chat {Kou}
Feb 12, 2015 15:23:41 GMT -5
Post by Knuckles on Feb 12, 2015 15:23:41 GMT -5
.: CHASKE PARKS :.
{district nine : 69th tribute}
Thinking about life hasn't ever been easy. For the most part I've watched people move around training like it's their last day of life, and little do they know it is. Twenty-three of us will die. One will survive. What's the odds? Thinking about it there's a 95% chance of death. 95% chance my life will end, but there's a 5% chance my feet will stand on the stage I've seen previous victor stand on. 5% chance I'll journey through the districts pretending I cared about the families. Pretending I cared for them when in all reality nobody matters. Not a single person here does.
Nobody.
It's a new day. Another day of training, but instead of making my way through the training center looking for a new weapon to hold onto, I sit at table with a ton of food in front of myself. It's made me sick. Eating every last bite, but it must be done. Making sure my stomach's full before going into the arena. Out of every game I've watched I noticed how little everyone eats, but people drink quickly. Drinking enough to survive the games. Who knows when any amount of food will end up inside. Those damn toxic plants seem like a good idea.
Finishing my first plate of food, I've decided to go back for seconds. This time I pile the plate full of sweets. Cakes, cookies, chocolates, and I feel a cup full of this dark chocolate stuff. It's a drink. Steam rolls from the top of it, and for once I feel excited. Feel happy. Father wouldn't ever approve of me drinking this much, but he's not here. He's not standing around me beating me down with his words, yet I can't shake them. Not now. Not ever.
You're worthless, Chaske. You're worthless.
Carefully balancing the plate and the cup, my jaw clenches shut as my eyes narrow. It's never been easy being here. Talking to these tributes. Learning about them. Watching them train. It's disgusting, yet I can't wait to feast on their bones, their blood. Soon their blood will turn into my own blood. It'll run through my veins because they'll be dead, and I'll be alive. In the end that's all that matters. Survival. If these stupid low life victors won the game, there isn't a damn thing stopping me.
Sitting down back at the table, I knock the cup full of chocolate drink over spilling it everywhere. A large grin spreads across my face. My teeth bare and for a moment it's like I'm a rabid animal. Someone that needs to die. To be put to sleep, and laughter escapes from my lips. Who cares if someone gets mad at me. I fucking dare them.
We dare them.
{table by zoë}
