you should say it cause I’d say it was wrong just to make it fill up the spaces waiting, always waiting
Mackenzie and Maxine, Mickey and Max. One, two, a duo from birth til death or something like it came along. You love your sister, like scaring off her boyfriends with a threat or two, or a punch in the nose if they don’t get the picture. Your mother says you only have each other, you, her and your sister. so you protect them from everything you can. There are still those things you can’t control, though, like the reaping, when none other than Mayor Bryson Ripsaw himself hunches onto the stage. Every year it’s his voice that speaks at the reaping, old wrinkly ass lips parting with conviction, speaking in a tone that implies the world owes him something. Want the truth? He owes two counts of child support to your mom and he is only about eighteen years late. Oh, yeah, it’s supposed to be a secret. Fuck, like anyone would believe it, anyway. But it’s hard to miss something you’ve never had, and you honestly feel like you would hate having a father; even the idea of having a pissing contest every time you decided to have an opinion pisses you off. No, you don’t need him. You need what you have, and you’ll get what you don’t. Ghosts are all show, and one you realized that they pose no harm to you, you gained power. And that power is something you’ll never give back.