a day in the life // tom
Jan 3, 2017 14:59:36 GMT -5
Post by bailee on Jan 3, 2017 14:59:36 GMT -5
a falling star fell from your heart.
"Go do something productive with 'yer life, ya' lazy bastard! Quit mooching offa' your mother and I!" His father's voiced echoed through his brain, a constant reminder that this was a dog-eat-dog world and that he was on his own. Without saying a single word to retaliate, Affron grabbed his ratty, old coat off of the rack and slowly left the house. He was careful not to make the hinges squeak on the door, an action he knew would just piss off his old man even more.
He knew he was a piece of shit. Relying on stealing from other poor people to make his own income wasn't something he was particularly proud of. He always told himself he'd give up stealing when he became old enough to work in the mines, as much as he'd miss the thrill of stealing something and not getting caught. It was a habit that had run through his bones since he was young; and lately, it seemed like it was the nicotine that ran through his veins. An adrenaline fueling experience that always made him feel satisfied after. He wasn't a kleptomaniac, though. I'm not a kleptomaniac.
His bare fingers chilled against the cold Panem air. He brought them up to his mouth to breathe into them, to simulate the feeling of a burning fire lit inside his home back in the Seam. Affron continued walking, eyeing the other citizens of the Seam carefully. His blue eyes had developed the shifting sight of a thief, constantly evaluating his current situation. He knew he wasn't going to find anything worth stealing in the Seam. Everyone felt the same pain of starvation as he did. Money was scarce, and he knew he wasn't the only thief in District 12. His fellow Seam residents were just about as careful with their money as he was. If he was going to find anything, he needed to go look in the more fortunate areas of the district.
Affron dreamed that one day, some day, he'd be able to bring home a big haul of money where he'd be able to support his parents and they wouldn't have to worry about a damn dime ever again. A dream that wasn't possible. I'm too dumb to make it anywhere besides being just another Seam disappointment working in the coal mines.
His walking pace slowed when he finally reached the end of the Seam. Not many people were out and about - most likely locked away inside, praying that the cold icy winters ended soon. He continued through the District, his shifting eyes eyeing every citizen that passed by him. He saw no Peacekeepers out, a good sign for a good haul. The 17-year old's eyes narrowed as he watched a man walk by - perhaps maybe not that much older than him. He looked well-off compared to his standards. He definitely wasn't from the Seam; Affron knew the residents inside and out.
Perfect, he thought, as he devised a plan to get into the man's pockets and pray for the best.
He knew he was a piece of shit. Relying on stealing from other poor people to make his own income wasn't something he was particularly proud of. He always told himself he'd give up stealing when he became old enough to work in the mines, as much as he'd miss the thrill of stealing something and not getting caught. It was a habit that had run through his bones since he was young; and lately, it seemed like it was the nicotine that ran through his veins. An adrenaline fueling experience that always made him feel satisfied after. He wasn't a kleptomaniac, though. I'm not a kleptomaniac.
His bare fingers chilled against the cold Panem air. He brought them up to his mouth to breathe into them, to simulate the feeling of a burning fire lit inside his home back in the Seam. Affron continued walking, eyeing the other citizens of the Seam carefully. His blue eyes had developed the shifting sight of a thief, constantly evaluating his current situation. He knew he wasn't going to find anything worth stealing in the Seam. Everyone felt the same pain of starvation as he did. Money was scarce, and he knew he wasn't the only thief in District 12. His fellow Seam residents were just about as careful with their money as he was. If he was going to find anything, he needed to go look in the more fortunate areas of the district.
Affron dreamed that one day, some day, he'd be able to bring home a big haul of money where he'd be able to support his parents and they wouldn't have to worry about a damn dime ever again. A dream that wasn't possible. I'm too dumb to make it anywhere besides being just another Seam disappointment working in the coal mines.
His walking pace slowed when he finally reached the end of the Seam. Not many people were out and about - most likely locked away inside, praying that the cold icy winters ended soon. He continued through the District, his shifting eyes eyeing every citizen that passed by him. He saw no Peacekeepers out, a good sign for a good haul. The 17-year old's eyes narrowed as he watched a man walk by - perhaps maybe not that much older than him. He looked well-off compared to his standards. He definitely wasn't from the Seam; Affron knew the residents inside and out.
Perfect, he thought, as he devised a plan to get into the man's pockets and pray for the best.
Tom ― 718 words
by sixsmith.
