It Comes In Waves {Oliver Wren | Day 2 Oneshots}
Nov 8, 2018 17:48:45 GMT -5
Post by kap on Nov 8, 2018 17:48:45 GMT -5
"What doesn't kill you
Makes you wish you were dead
Got a hole in my soul growing deeper and deeper"
After having run off on my own, away from it all, I still didn't feel any better. I escaped unscathed, but the same couldn't be said for Faux. All because of my recklessness, wanting to attack Denali as a form of vengeance for the damage that she had inflicted on Carmen in the bloodbath at the Cornucopia on our first day in the arena, my allies had been hurt. What added to the pain of it all was the fact that Carmen didn't even seem to appreciate what I was doing for her in the slightest bit whatsoever. I suppose that one shouldn't look for praise from others in what they do, though.
Unfortunately, that's pretty much what I've been doing for my entire life. I've always wanted to impress people and be seen in the most positive light that I possibly could be. That was my downfall in this arena, though. Trying to be nice to Carmen and actually help her out had just gotten me a bad reputation and a dead ally. I had to stop being nice, considerate Oliver. I had to just focus on myself at this point, no matter how much I hated to be a really selfish person. Even though everyone's at least a little bit selfish, whether they like to admit it or not, I don't want to be that person who's overly selfish.
I didn't have much of a choice in that matter at this point, though. Selfishness, or, perhaps the proper term to use at this point in time would be 'self-preservation', was something I needed to focus on while I was in the Hunger Games. If one didn't try to keep themselves alive, they were going to die. It was as simple as that. I couldn't focus on others, no matter how much I hated to think about that.
What was happening to me?
What was the Capitol turning me into- some sort of terrible monstrosity?
How could I ever get back to how I was before the Games if I did survive them? I wasn't sure if that was even possible. Kids at the age of fourteen like me were supposed to be innocent. Supposed to be. In this world, your innocence could be stolen from you at any point in time. Mine was stolen from me at the age of fourteen, that fateful day of the reaping for the Eightieth Hunger Games. That was the day that I was sentenced to change.
Most people think of the reaping as a death sentence, and, for quite some time, I did, too. One of the only things, or, perhaps one of the only people, that didn't make me completely think of it as a death sentence was my close friend, who also happened to be my friend who I'd had for the longest in my life, Alistina Ranger-Heart (who I call Ranger). She'd visited me in the Justice Building on the day of the reaping, when I was chosen for the Games, and she'd spoken words to me that I wouldn't be forgetting any time soon, or likely ever forgetting at all.
"I believe in you. You're a strong dude, alright?" she'd said. They were such simple words, likely said to hundreds of tributes by hundreds of people. Year after year, from District to District, it's likely that people have said these words, or at least words that were quite similar in their meaning, to those that were leaving them as they said goodbye in the Justice Building. It made me wonder how many of those people that those words were said to actually came back home alive to see the person who said that to them ever again.
I wondered if there were any at all.
I wondered if I'd be one of them.
If I were one of them, would I be the first, or perhaps one of many?
I just had to think about why I was fighting. I told myself on that first day in the arena, when I entered the terror that was unfolding at the Cornucopia, that I was fighting not only for Jory, for my home, and for all the other people I loved, but for myself. I was fighting for Oliver Wren, and that was who I needed to fight for if I were to survive.
"I'm fighting for my home, and for those I love." I whispered. "Most of all, though, I'm fighting for Oliver Perseus Wren."
graphic credit to: scandal
word count: 734
title inspiration: "Drown" by Bring Me The Horizon
word count: 734
title inspiration: "Drown" by Bring Me The Horizon
[Oliver tries to catch a word]
Y1guII4C41-4
[fail]
1-4Y1guII4C41-4
[fail]