⌜ consign me not to darkness ❖ speech; carmine downer ⌟

When she is called to rise from her chair and take her place for her opening speech, she does not hesitate. She shakes the hand of the man who is presiding over the event and nods her head in respect. She clenches her jaw after she is left alone on the floor of the cleared out cafeteria. There is no shame in a woman showing fear, but that sensation has no purpose in the life of someone who wants to lead a district like Thirteen. She knows what these people need because she’s needed the same; she’s not just here on a whim. She adjusts the military badges on the breast of her uniform, and then she clears her throat.

“Good evening. My name is Carmine Downer. I would like to thank each of you for being in attendance. I know this is just a short break before we’ll need to return to our duties, but Thirteen has always been a restless district. We stand when we are told to get down on our knees, and we shout when we are asked to lower our voices. I’ll start this speech with the reminder that we are, at the core of ourselves, a community built on rebellion. And there’s no reason to step around the subject. We know that during the Dark Ages it was our ancestors who lead the charge, and I will never forget their sacrifices.

The Capitol of Panem condemned us to an existence miles below the ground, but Thirteen has always had enough fire to keep itself burning. Though some may believe it to be true, we are not a lacking district. We have escaped years of the Games that our former brothers and sisters are now forced to suffer through annually, and for all the reasons that it might be an unfair trade — no sunlight for no pointless death — I see the underlying message. We are the only district capable of taking down the Capitol; it was that way at the start, and it will be that way at the end.

I have served as a lieutenant colonel in Thirteen’s army for nearly thirty years, and I have lived here for all of my life. My father is descended from one of Thirteen’s original families, and my mother was a first generation resident. All of that is inside me. I have relatives who remember what it’s like above all of this this concrete, and I have others who are uncertain of what’s waiting for us outside.

There are things that I cannot disclose in my position, but I can say that there is more for us than what we have now. Thirteen was never meant to stay below ground, and we should never be content with what we were given. The injustice against us was only meant to further our rage. If you wound a wolf, it won’t stop trying to kill your flock. It’ll just come back with its pack.

That’s what the Capitol has underestimated, and it’s something I’ve seen some of us fail to remember. I see hopelessness in every face that I pass, and I see the thought that it might be better to just give up. I believe that our people have sacrificed too much to never see their efforts rewarded. Our men are taught how to hold guns before learning how to hold themselves, and our women are expected to raise the population of our district by producing children with men they don’t even love. I’ve done the same.

I have given every part of myself to Thirteen; my childhood and my insecurities and something that should have been sacred. But I see my children and I know that they are our future; but that doesn’t mean all of the weight is on them alone. It’s on us, too, and those of us here in this moment can also be there for the future of Thirteen. Fifty years from now is just as unknown as tomorrow.

I don’t want to lead you because I think that I am the most deserving. I’m a resident of Thirteen just like everyone else; someone who wants something more than this. I hope to represent our citizens because I understand all of you. I’m scared of the same things and I pray for the same things. We’re all equal in Thirteen. We can never forget that. My burdens are your burdens, and yours are mine. Let me carry all of them.”