bad reputation- Adaira & Mystic
Mar 31, 2015 22:33:48 GMT -5
Post by moon(stone) on Mar 31, 2015 22:33:48 GMT -5
And I don't give a damn bout my reputation
Never said I'm looking to improve my station
And I'm only doing good when I'm having fun
And I don't have to please no one
The Games have never disappointed me. When I was little, I watched the District One tributes with awe. When I was older, I watched them with pride. Right about now, I watch them with envy.
When I got back from school, I was rushed in to my room. "There's special guests over tonight," she said. "Some very important people. So you'll have to get dressed!"
"Who's coming over?"
"Well, it's just some of your father's customers... some Peacekeepers... and that boy you like! Won't that be fun?"
Oh dear. I knew who she was referring to. He had a grossly inappropriate crush on me. I couldn't even remember his name. In my mind he was always that boy, and in my mother's eyes he was that boy you like. The last time he had come over, he had spent the entire dinner petting my hair. No, not touching. Not playing with. Petting my hair, as if I were a dog. The time before that we were having an Opening Ceremonies viewing party. The District Twelve tributes had been naked and covered with fake coal dust. It coated their emaciated bodies in a most unflattering way.
He had, at that time, slid over to me on the couch, and whispered in my ear, "That'll be us if you like it dirty."
Mother wanted us to be together because he was the son of a very wealthy business partner of my parents'. He was in my year at school. I constantly avoided him, but whether I liked it or not, he was always there for me to ignore. The only place I hadn't seen him was at the Training Center.
Training Center... training center... that was it! "I apologize," I said. "I've just come back to get my training clothes. I forgot them. And today I have a really important practice. It's on hitting moving targets, and I only just made into the class, and if I don't I'll have to wait another year. I don't think that, should I be reaped, I would be able to afford it."
I knew I was free then. My mother is deadly serious (pun not intended) on anything that has to do with the Games. I think she knows, secretly, my desire to volunteer, and she's terrified of me losing. I'm her only child. I'm the kid her future is riding on. And should I be thrown into the Games sea, the first thing she would do would be to toss me a lifeline and tug me to shore.
"Well... Adaira, love... could you try to be back in time for dinner?"
"I'll see if I can manage it," I said.
"Good. Train hard. Come home soon."
I ran up to my room. My training clothes were sitting in a bag full of my own practice knives. I grabbed it, tied my hair up, and made my way down to the Training Center.
I have a number of knives. I've got a target that I like to try and hit back at home. Some merchant was selling them on the street corners. It wasn't as well-made as the training targets I was used to, but it was better.
The target did not bear the insignia of the center or of District One. It was a map. The rings on the outside were the lower districts- the disgusting ones, the really poor ones like District Twelve. The inside improved more and more until the nearest one to the middle, my district, and then the bullseye, the Capitol.
It represented what I wanted to be. I wanted to be precise as possible. I wanted to outrank the districts so that my only home was among immortals of my own kind.
I got to the Center. It was surprisingly busy. I changed clothes, checked in, and began to unpack my knives. There were other kids standing around. Most of them were there for a spear class. I laid my knives out on the table, picked a small one, and began to throw.
Never said I'm looking to improve my station
And I'm only doing good when I'm having fun
And I don't have to please no one
The Games have never disappointed me. When I was little, I watched the District One tributes with awe. When I was older, I watched them with pride. Right about now, I watch them with envy.
When I got back from school, I was rushed in to my room. "There's special guests over tonight," she said. "Some very important people. So you'll have to get dressed!"
"Who's coming over?"
"Well, it's just some of your father's customers... some Peacekeepers... and that boy you like! Won't that be fun?"
Oh dear. I knew who she was referring to. He had a grossly inappropriate crush on me. I couldn't even remember his name. In my mind he was always that boy, and in my mother's eyes he was that boy you like. The last time he had come over, he had spent the entire dinner petting my hair. No, not touching. Not playing with. Petting my hair, as if I were a dog. The time before that we were having an Opening Ceremonies viewing party. The District Twelve tributes had been naked and covered with fake coal dust. It coated their emaciated bodies in a most unflattering way.
He had, at that time, slid over to me on the couch, and whispered in my ear, "That'll be us if you like it dirty."
Mother wanted us to be together because he was the son of a very wealthy business partner of my parents'. He was in my year at school. I constantly avoided him, but whether I liked it or not, he was always there for me to ignore. The only place I hadn't seen him was at the Training Center.
Training Center... training center... that was it! "I apologize," I said. "I've just come back to get my training clothes. I forgot them. And today I have a really important practice. It's on hitting moving targets, and I only just made into the class, and if I don't I'll have to wait another year. I don't think that, should I be reaped, I would be able to afford it."
I knew I was free then. My mother is deadly serious (pun not intended) on anything that has to do with the Games. I think she knows, secretly, my desire to volunteer, and she's terrified of me losing. I'm her only child. I'm the kid her future is riding on. And should I be thrown into the Games sea, the first thing she would do would be to toss me a lifeline and tug me to shore.
"Well... Adaira, love... could you try to be back in time for dinner?"
"I'll see if I can manage it," I said.
"Good. Train hard. Come home soon."
I ran up to my room. My training clothes were sitting in a bag full of my own practice knives. I grabbed it, tied my hair up, and made my way down to the Training Center.
I have a number of knives. I've got a target that I like to try and hit back at home. Some merchant was selling them on the street corners. It wasn't as well-made as the training targets I was used to, but it was better.
The target did not bear the insignia of the center or of District One. It was a map. The rings on the outside were the lower districts- the disgusting ones, the really poor ones like District Twelve. The inside improved more and more until the nearest one to the middle, my district, and then the bullseye, the Capitol.
It represented what I wanted to be. I wanted to be precise as possible. I wanted to outrank the districts so that my only home was among immortals of my own kind.
I got to the Center. It was surprisingly busy. I changed clothes, checked in, and began to unpack my knives. There were other kids standing around. Most of them were there for a spear class. I laid my knives out on the table, picked a small one, and began to throw.
