wolfgang mae | d5

All I'm saying is, if you're gonna ask questions can you at least save 'em for after I'm done talking because I hate repeating myself the most. Like, why are you even here in the first place if you don't care about what I have to say? It's a waste of time, you know?

Anyway, so yeah, I guess I'm Lysander's brother. I know that's what you're here about with her volunteering and all. Uh-huh, pretty fuckin' shook up and stuff but who wasn't? Cigarette? Oh no, well you mind if I- Okay cool, then I guess you're coming outside with me then. Yeah I know I shouldn't smoke, developing lungs and all but you know what? This is Five darling, we're breathing in that shit every single day and I don't think one little cig is gonna ruin that for me.

Life expectancy is in the gutter anyway, what with all the black lung and the hunger games and the gang violence. What do you mean 'gang violence'? Are you trying to tell me you didn't see little Jacob Whorns stapled to the Gingham Electric Factory walls? That was iconic, literally all anyone was talking about for days. 'Cause everyone knows who was sending that message and my dad says they're getting a little too big for their boots if you know what I mean.

The reaping? Oh yeah.

Fuck it.

That's what Lysander said and you can quote us both on that, fuck it. As far as I'm concerned, I lost two sisters last year when Hazel's body finally gave out on her. Lys gave out on us too and she stopped giving a single fuck about us. You can tell she didn't have even one thought about me when she volunteered which is lame. Kinda hurts a little bit, like when you're a kid and you shove a safety pin into your thumb and you're shocked that it bites.

What do you mean you didn't do that? Everyone's done that... Oh shit, sorry, I'll move downwind.

Better?

...

Cool.

Anyway, so as I was saying, Lysander ditched us and to sum it up, I don't care. I found a bottle of blue hair dye in her bathroom last night from sometime last year when she came home with it and we all went blue. That pissed off mom and dad haha. I poured it down the drain because I know she isn't coming back and I don't even care. Ungrateful cow.

We have two empty bedrooms now. First was Hazel's, the second is Ly's and all that's really in Ly's is empty booze bottle. Yeah, you don't need to be a detective to know she's an alcoholic and when you're fourteen years old and holding your sister's hair back so it doesn't get full of puke while she voms for the eighteenth night in a row, shit gets tired fast. You can only watch someone destroy themselves for so long you know? I get it, honestly like, I miss Hazel bad. But I think I'm angrier at Lysander for becoming a basket case than I am at Hazel for dying.

They were supposed to be the heirs to our parent's crazy-town-business, not me.

Love her? Damn, of course, I love my sister. I'm not that cold. I love Lysander with every inch of my body and then some. I love her so much that I want to scream it at her but she won't hear me. Even if she was here and not in an arena, she'd never hear me because, in the end, I don't think she loves me back.

I'm too much like them.

Them.

You know, good ol' Mom and Pops, we're up to our ears in cash thanks to them. It's not like we have a factory or anything, nah. We got nothing actually, not even one and that's because we deal in other stuff. Whatever you need really, we can get it for you or make it disappear, it's our little magic act. Hell, we even redacted. --------------------------------------- which is pretty terrible. I guess you could call me a Mommy's boy too because I fell into it all, no problem. Lysander hates it, everything our family stands for, but it doesn't bother me.

I'd go more into it but I'm gonna be in shit if you publish anything I shouldn't be saying you know? And you're going to be in trouble too, there are things you probably haven't even thought of that my parents will do to you. They won't just break you apart, no, they'll tear everything you hold dear apart first because they know people, those two lovely parents of mine. They know people and they needle them, dig their claws in and twist until there's not much left of a person, until death is just the next natural step.

They ruin lives, Lysander hated that, so what?

The way I see it, you're either on the winning side or the losing. Switzerland is for little bitches who're too afraid to just take a stance. Like Jesus, just have an opinion, you know what I mean?

Shit is that rain? Yeah, let's head back in. I'm done this anyway.

And Lysander would hate it, all this swearing coming out of my mouth and the nicotine stains on my fingers, or at least I thought she would. The first time I came home smelling of smoke I thought she'd at least say something but it's all glamour you know? In the pictures and stories, it's always this tragic thing but they don't talk about the way the disease erases a person.

I haven't seen my sister in a year, I mean it.

Wait, actually, maybe once the other night. Our parents do this thing the day before the reaping where they hold a big party the night before the reaping. They started when Lysander was old enough to be reaped, as if they thought the show of power would keep us from being picked. (Guess they didn't account for Ly's dumbass, huh, haha?) Anyway, Ly had this big freakout this year about Hazel.

I watched her from my place leaning against a pillar and I remember thinking she was probably just drunk. She wasn't slurring and she was walking straight but Ly's gotten so good at pretending that I don't even know anymore.

Isn't that fucked? Can't tell if my own sister is sober or not.

Anyway, she had this big scene about Hazel and I was two seconds from going to her, from following her out of the room but then I saw her grab a bottle of vodka and I turned on my heel. No way was I going to sit there and babysit my stupid drunk sister when I could be getting smashed.

So maybe I saw her, maybe I didn't. Never got the chance to ask, she volunteered the next day.

And that's two sisters down you know? Just like that, in the span of a year and now it's just us. It hasn't been two days and dad is already shoving a black bag into my backpack and telling me to make a detour on my way to school, so business as usual I guess.

I'm not even surprised. Last year with Hazel, we buried her the same day she died and that was it. But I fell into a habit of wearing black. You know, like a hundred years ago or maybe three hundred, people used to mourn a person by wearing black for years at a time. Here I thought it was just a fashion choice.

Fucking wild.