eros desrosier / district three (fin)

I had always wanted to be a king ever since I could see my jaded reflection in our family's chipped mirror, or when my shabbily-cut paper crown clings onto the midnight curls on top of my head so it doesn't droop onto the splintering wooden floorboards,  but no one seemed to bow down to my hand-me-down leather boots or kiss the stolen twinkling rings that hung onto the smooth base of my fingertips.

The first time I truly felt power was with a gun in my hands. The memory was painted in such a vivid picture in my head: the cool metal touch against my moonlit skin, the stars dancing in the dark pools of my eyes and the feeling of ichor pulsing through my veins.

It never amounted to anything, though.

Nothing.

No gunshots, no silver bullets.

But I will always remember the power I felt, life teetering on the edge between life and death, everything balancing on the tips of my fingers. Maybe it went to my head, but damn, did it feel good.

Life wasn't hard, no, there wasn't a struggle to survive, but I always wanted more.

I wanted the world to bow at the knees, and I didn't think that I was asking too much. But, I soon realized that the world wasn't going to hand over a crown, so I was going to take it.

I didn't need permission to take what was already mine.

uhh this is so rushed asdfghjkl idk

L△LIA