Oliver McKensie // D3 // FIN

. oliver "oli/ollie" mckensie ♔ 18 ♔ district 3 .

They told me they just wanted what was best for me.

I love them dearly, but they can't possibly know whether something is or not--I'm my own person. They brought me here and gave me my own life to live out, so it should be only me who gets to see and decide this.

I know they have good intentions, because that's all I both want and do have. I know they mean well, but...I can no longer cope these circumstances that they set up for me. I can no longer take their word for anything, I need to start seeing things for myself. I need a whole new perspective.

I need to see how a guy like me will fare in a world like this, a world they never wanted a child of their own blood to be in but they had by chance nonetheless.

They nod their heads in sorrow and put me in a tight embrace; mom sobs quietly, I feel some of her tears burst against my skin. When I move away, her hands grip my shoulders firmly, yet gently at the same time.

"...Don't say we didn't warn you, okay? It's a jungle out there.

Don't...please don't let anyone hurt you."

"I'll be fine, mom." One more hug. "I promise, don't worry about me."

She lets go, and dad pats me on a shoulder as well.

"I know we're probably being overdramatic,"

he chuckles,

"but...we just care about you too much. You're truly a good kid, Ollie.

Don't you forget that, and don't let anyone else take that away from you."

"Really, I'll be fine. You guys have nothing to worry about, you're acting like I'm going off to fight in a war or something."

We all laugh together, and then they let go at last as I turn around, stepping out and away from the house I've gotten to know really well for the last seventeen years.

It's time to start using my own eyes for knowledge for a change.



I think about how I got to this point as a tall, skinny frame and rather squished features venture through smoggy air--gaunt cheeks framing a cleft chin, eyes in which their shape can be manipulated through narrowing them into squintier shapes of vision, a round nose, pouty lips.

Mom said she was devastated when she found out she was going to have me.

They both never meant for me to come about, but yet here I am.

They didn't want to suck me up into a vacuum, so they accepted their destiny to become parents and foster a child who they could potentially lose for the sake of Capitol entertainment in at least twelve years.

They were both scared of the world. Terrified. They still are, and they wanted me to be scared too. Of all their fears regarding it, they're most afraid of me falling victim to it--they never wanted me to experience and truly learn of what others and they themselves have, only listen to what they had to say about them.

So they sheltered me for my entire childhood. They taught me everything they knew themselves, many good but mainly bad. Of course I didn't mind when I was very young, when my blonde hair was starting to grow in and my blue eyes were constantly wide with curiosity and horror; what they had to say would often keep me awake at night and clinging onto them for dear life. They didn't mind me seeing them as my heroes and protectors, they thought they were doing the right thing.

Dad was a freelance computer mechanic and mom worked in a factory for making cameras. When she had the privilege of getting to keep one of her own from there, they began distracting me by incorporating their jobs into the lessons they frequently taught me by the time I started getting bored of them and watching dad work. Dad gave me basic lectures on computers, their parts, and how to fix problems I could solve for my age, while mom made her talks more interesting by taking pictures of places, people, and objects she would see outside. Though dad did manage to keep me busy, mom's method was often counterproductive as it just made me want to explore life even more. This saw lots of tantrums and holding me back from reaching the front door, and especially sentencing me to isolation in my room.

Despite successfully shielding me from the likes of crime, gangs, Peacekeepers, addictions, and bullying, the Games was the one thing they could never prevent me from finding out of. Mandatory viewing they told me, but that was all a pure mind was riddled with. They always kept trying to shield my eyes and my ears, though to no avail--I always saw something. Images of the dead flash in my mind every once in a while, the broken and severed limbs and the faded memories of hearing the blood-curdling screams of pain and agony.

It's when genuine kindness and a desire to give it out began to settle in me, pushing the other to not be cooped up in this house any longer further over the edge of control.

Unrest elevated over time. It became more of a struggle to keep my wondering at bay. I did develop an interest in computers and tinkering with them, but when dad resorted to forcing me to help him with his job I stood my ground on refusal. Screaming matches to see who could hit the top of their lungs first became more common, moreso with him because mom tried to avoid them by working overtime. It always made me want to shrink up, how angry he would get. It was the only thing that got in the way of me and my hand turning the knob without their approval. I wasn't the kind of person to try and step out of line, after all, he was always able to get me to me surrender with just the use of his emotions.

I couldn't break their hearts at the end of the day, but I just had to know. Not know, but know, and I wish it was sooner that they let me because I deserved to, didn't I? Didn't I deserve to find all of this out for myself before now, didn't I deserve their trust and their respect to let me learn of what lurks behind every corner on my own at an earlier point in time instead of being locked up behind glass and blinds for so long?

Chatter and laughter flood auditory passageways and the past returns to the past, I blink these thoughts away and for a little while keep on treading the black pavement underneath my feet--like the pollution that unfortunately blankets us all--with blankness.

I then smile and laugh.

No, there's no point in raising reminiscences from their graves when the feelings in all of their potency for each of them have long been gone.

It's the past for a reason, so I should keep it there. I'm here now, finally setting out to do what I've wanted for so long, and that's all that matters.

Let's see what the future holds in store for me.