bystander . mattio

My father told me to get out of the house when I woke up screaming this morning. It's embarrassing to be a teenager who is still afraid of nightmares. That's just kid stuff, screaming because you think there's someone coming to kill you, but for me, it seems to real. Every time the black bags under my eyes are too much to handle, I just fall asleep. I put off resting until my body just does it for me. I've never wanted to willingly jump into hell.

So, I did as my father asked, walking outside. Zeke and I always played outside together, and now that he's gone, it makes me feel as if someone cracked a little piece out of my heart. Ever since I was little and saw him die, I knew I was truly alone. Sure, I had my parents, but a human can only fall deeper into the abyss of darkness when someone they relied on every second of the day suddenly disappears.

At first, I was just walking, pacing around in the early hours of the day. Even at the crack of dawn, earlybirds like myself walk around as if they've been up for hours. I kept on what I woke up in, a black t-shirt, dark (almost black) blue jeans, and sneakers. My family never got caught up in materialistic things like clothing after he died. It made every little thing in our house so precious. Mother and Father always finished their food. We became more grateful and thankful, in a way. Still, my parents fight about how it was the other's fault, but I knew exactly whose fault it was.

Mine.

I thought I was his partner in crime, his sidekick, but in all honesty, I just brought him farther down from an low, to an even lower state of mind. He protected me, yet he let his guard down from the outside world. I saw his letter, and it basically said everyone but me. However, everyone affects everyone, sometimes even indirectly.

My thoughts let me walk in peace. The pathways around District Four are nice, as well as the scenery. Some water is used only for fishing, but there are many other places in the District that are beautiful. I don't understand why this place wasn't used as the Capitol considering it's jaw-dropping features. I suppose I never really should understand because I've never seen the beauty that people talk about if they get the honor to journey to the last ring of hell.

I come to a small cottage, probably for one of the richer members of our District. It has a beautiful area behind it, a nice place to swim. I don't see anyone around the house, so why not go into the waters and enjoy myself. Nobody's there, so I guess I can collect my thoughts and emotions there.

I remove my shirt, pants, and sneakers before testing the water. I look around, hoping that people don't stare at me with the little clothes I have on protecting my private area. The waters cold, causing a covering of freezing-cold water to wrap around my foot. It sends shivers up my spine and to my head.

People don't care if others live or die, they just care for themselves. Sometimes, that pushes my buttons. People act so nice on the outside, but really, they could care less about you. I can't be the only one who thinks this, right? People putting themselves first and everyone else last? That's something that has always been false for me. Other people deserve attention as much as I. Equality. But sometimes, people can get cocky. And when people get self-centered or over-confident, that's when you lose them. They won't care for you anymore, they'll just walk away.

I lay in the water, trying to remain calm. The monster that caused my brother to die will eventually be gone. I'm too oblivious to see someone in all white walk into the house

I guess I wasn't supposed to be here after all. I hear a voice call out as if they had some sort of authority.

"Hey- you. Do you have a permit to be out here right now?"

My body quickly readjusts, frightened from the new encounter.

I quickly paddle myself back to the shoreline, hoping that this isn't the end of me.

Actually- scratch that.

End me.

The man is scarier than I wish to admit. A peacekeeper, but without his helmet. Intimidation has always been part of my daily routine, even as a tall teenager. Immature, that it what I am. I never grew up and out of the "there's a monster in my closet" kind of child. The monster is always in my dreams, coming back to torture my every night. Even if I don't take the time to rest, I only do it in fear of him doing something terrible to me. I feel pain from something who I know is only in my head, and will never release itself in the outside world. I'm afraid of a figment of my imagination, but he is much more than that to me. He is my one and only opponent in life, and I can never win in this war that has been waging for too long.

This peacekeeper is half as horrifying, but considering how scary the monster is that lies in my head, waiting for me to return again to punish me for closing me eyes, that's still very scary.

I continue to breathe, allowing my body to relax. Maybe he's just trying to mess with me. I knew there were permits for fishing areas in the District, but nobody was fishing. There were so signs, so how could I have none?

"I said, do you have a permit," the man asked, turning more strict. My nervous system tells me I should flee instead of fight, but my body feels stuck with walking. He doesn't take the time for me to walk past him. Instead, he walks to me, grabbing my arm tightly. I feel the pain squeeze in my arm and down to my forearm, taking different routes to sting all the way to the tips of my fingers.

I also feel as if it's okay to break now. Maybe he'll have pity on me? After all, how can he say I committed a crime if I never did. I doubt there is a permit because the evil look on his face looks like mischief. He pushes me back, and I try to catch up fall, but instead, I slowly tip backwards, not even bothering attempt a nice save. I don't even try to pick myself up.

"If you don't have a permit, I guess I'll.." his voice sounds evil. If the monster had a voice, this would definitely be the one I predict. Dark, evil, mischieveous. They want to torture me, laugh at my failures.

Hopefully this man won't break me like the man did, like Ezekiel's killer did.

"I'll have to take matters into my own hands.." I quickly spot his gun in a holster, and I immediately know that this man isn't lying.

I shake my head, hoping that he won't break me.

I hope I hope I hope.

The pitter patter of his feet begin to come closer to me. "No?" His words come out to haunt me, and I still feel as if I'm frozen in time, yet he still has the ability to keep moving towards me. He's standing and I'm on the ground. With every step he takes, it seems as if he gets taller, larger, bigger, scarier. Now, he descends, but doesn't sit with me. My eyes meet with his, and all I can do is hope he doesn't kill me. He definitely wouldn't be keeping the peace that way, but some people do get power hungry. They get self-centered, self-confident. Just you wait, sir. Wait until you lose someone you love. Then you'll see.

"Aww- is the big bad peacekeeper too scary?" He speaks like hell, every word spits out fire, burning into my mouth and down throughout my body. He will break me, I know he will. He's like the big bad wolf and I'm.. well.. a bunny rabbit with spots all over.

Immediately after his fierce voice ends it's sentence, he grabs me, and pulls. At first, I try and have my bare feet stop myself in my tracks, but after a few seconds, I allow myself to stand, walking with him to the back of his house.

I breathe, taking deep breaths as we stop at a post. He has a nice house, better than mine by far. I guess that's what peacekeepers get, special treatment because they are "such good rolemodels." Not.

I watch his every move, including the one where he takes out handcuffs. I can only imagine what he'd do. Lock me up in a basement, making me starve to death. Leave me without rats and bugs to eventually devour my deceased body as food.

I feel my wet hair slowly drop water onto my hands. Soon, wrapped around my left wrist is half of the cuffs, and the other is stationed at a wall. He begins to walk away. He's gonna leave me until some man finds me and takes me in as his own, I just know it. And if nobody finds me, he'll leave me to rot.

Tobias Staite, just breathe.

I shiver as he walks out, speaking once more, "I'll be back- try not to get yourself into too much trouble, sweetie." I'm flattered by his words, sweetie. I never really felt like that was a word used to define me. I feel the lock in the cuffs click, meaning I can't move for anything.

My body is cold as I wait for him to return. I remain stationary, sitting. I'm trapped, confinded to a small area like a dog on a leash.

When he returns, it doesn't take me long to speak. "S-sir? Can you, uh, get my clothes?"

I hope he says yes to my first words to him because if not, I might just freeze to death if I'm only in my briefs.

My words seem to give him a sense of power. Personally, that's what I hoped would happen when I used a word such as sir. It gave him dominance over me, it made him feel as if he was my owner, and I was commanded to give respect to him. He begins to walk away once again, and I tug on the cuffs, hoping that eventually they will give up their lock. I want the chains to break so I hopefully will never have to see his dreaded face again. A monster, trying to overpower me with every ounce of authority he has. I wouldn't care if I was humiliated as I only wear a small article of clothing. It's better than being held against my will.

As I continue to pull on the aircuffs, they do not budge. It feels as if I'll never got out of these cuffs confining me to a post. I watch him walk to my clothes, and I do not give up on trying to allow myself out of the cuffs. But as I have no success, I feel exactly what I've been feeling for ten years. Worthless. Powerless. Pathetic. I could easily call myself a slave of the world, having to bow down and accept my fate, no matter what kind of destiny it will be. Good or bad, I've been forced to accept it for a whole decade, and no matter how hard I try, I will always stay in this position of the social pyramid. The lowest of the low. The worst of the worst, and it's obvious where I am in life because I'm stuck to a post. If that doesn't show you how pathetic I am, I don't know what will.

He's far away now, so I slouch, my legs beginning to flatten out, causing my arm to stay stuck up on the top. I tried to become comfortable, but instead, I feel like I am being crucified, my arms being dragged out as far as they can to fit the cross I now belong to. He is near my clothes. I watch him pick up my dark blue jeans, then my shirt, and my shoes. I can't exactly see what he's doing, but it seems as if he's examining my clothes, trying to see if I'm wealthy enough to get out of trouble. It's evident from the rips in my jeans and dirty sneakers that I'm not rich at all.

He walks closer to me now, coming back to see my slouched in my small area. It is as if I'm on a leash, tied to a post like a dog. He holds my blue jeans, that seem darker than usual. My shirt and shoes are not in his arms, and I wonder why. As he approaches me, his body towers over my naked and afraid build. He throws my jeans in front of me, and I feel the damp denim land on my toes. Quickly I move them closer, feeling that they're soaking wet. Great. Make me feel even more uncomfortable.

He unlocks me from the post, and then speaks. "Don't complain, just put them on."

Afraid that he might get enraged from me saying no, I do as he asks. First, I slide my right leg into the wet jeans, and then my left. I shiver, pulling them up to a nice height, where you can barely see my underwear. I sarcastically smile at him, acting grateful that he gave me an article of clothing to wear so I'm not shivering my ass off. However, the wetness of the jeans that go all the way down to my ankles.

I look into his eyes, feeling dead already. I have to admit, he is kind of cute. Tobias, no. He's practically making you his slave.

"Thank you.." I say, hoping that now that he's had his abusive fun, he may let me go. But instead of making a run for it, I sit back down, handcuffing myself back to the post. Hopefully if he sees my obedience, I will get to go.

I hope I hope I hope I hope.

Half of me wanted to run, to get out of trouble and never return to it. My family has always thought of me to be a good child, and getting in trouble for something I did not even know was a crime would be stupid. I do not want to get hurt, mentally or physically, by taking a breather and swimming to find peace the inside of me.

The other half of me wanted to stay and accept my fate. After all, Zeke never got to decide who he was in life, he was just molded into what he was by his surroundings. And Daria Staite never got the chance to back away from the Games, and instead got dragged into them without a say in anything. She had to fight for her life, and people fought harder than her. They never got to choose, so what right do I have to choose? I don't.

I watch him loosen the collar of his uniform, and I begin to squirm back. It was idiotic not to just bolt out of there, but right now, I'm a pet and he's my owner. No matter how hard I may not like the actions being taken, and I have to live with them. It must be scary to be a pet, easily manipulated by the humans that act like their on the top of the world. And it's likely that we are, but people become so selfish that they think it's their right to breathe in clean air and shove everyone who isn't worthy of them away.

I continue to breathe, trying not to scream for help or draw attention. After all, I put myself into this situation, not this peacekeeper who is just following orders (even though I doubt their the Capitol's, more likely his own.)

I see him remove his shirt, and I feel like I'm not alone. The freeze hurts my skin and bones, but he doesn't seem to be bothered by it. "I hope you don't mind," he says, and I can't say if I do or not. He's pretty cute, but I don't know if it's correct to like someone who is basically holding you captive. "So you could comply, and we could find something easy or you could..." I remain silent when listening to his words. "struggle, and we could find something harder." I breathe.

Harder? Like what? It's as if he thinks holding me against my will isn't hard enough.

He tells me that the choice is up to me, and I don't want it to be up to me.

"Whatever.." I say, accepting fate once again. Daria and Zeke never got to choose, so when I'm given a choice, I'll let the questioner choose for me.