Imagine Life {Fei/Shiloh}

~
Imagine life was a little box,
with a key it's locked, from the outside
~

I'm someone who really likes kids. I'm not quite sure why, but I suppose I've always been that way. I'm good with them, too. They almost always seem to like me, and I know how to communicate with them pretty well. I suppose that may be because they're one of the few groups of people in life who I don't feel like I have to impress. Kids are impressed a lot easier than teenagers and adults. With four sisters and five brothers, I've been around kids a lot during my life, as some of them are younger than me. The younger they are, the better I seem to get along with them.

I just hope that someday, I can make friends with people my age, too.

---

As I walk down the streets of District Twelve, leaving my home to go for a stroll and let myself relax, I find myself being a bit of a people watcher. When I get stressed, I like to go out and walk around to calm myself down, and things were starting to get a bit chaotic and stressful at home, meaning that I wanted to get out of the house. The people I see passing me by on this sunny Saturday morning are all so different, yet, in a way, they're all so much alike. Even though everyone looks different and may have different reasons for going to the different places they're going to, we're all quite the same in the aspect of all being citizens of District Twelve, within the Capitol's grasp and command.

In a way, all we're really doing in our day to day lives is serving the people of the Capitol, and most of all, President Snow.

Regardless, I try to pay more attention to the differences in the people that I see as I walk, rather than the similarities. I've always been different than the people that I meet in quite a few ways, but I suppose most people would be like that anyway. What would be the point in everyone being the same, anyway?

---

During my walk, I see a girl, or perhaps I should say young woman, who looks to be perhaps a couple years older than myself, along with a young girl who was likely about a year or so old. It makes me wonder what their connection to one another is. Was she babysitting the young girl? Were they older and younger sister, perhaps? Maybe they were even mother and daughter. For some reason, that last reason sounded right to me. It also appeared to me that, maybe they weren't the poorest of the poor, but they weren't quite at the wealth status of my own family.

If they truly were mother and daughter, I wondered what I could do to help. Deciding to approach them, I was polite in the way that I spoke.

"Excuse me?" I said to the young woman. "Is she yours? She's beautiful."

~
And picture life as you wanted it,
Let's not be hard on it, on the inside
~