Please Note: may include excessive swearing as I am in an angry mood today.
Ooh, ooh, ooh, the reason I hold on
Ooh, ooh, ooh, 'cause I need this hole gone
Funny you're the broken one but I'm the only one who needed saving
'Cause when you never see the light it's hard to know which one of us is caving.
*cue music by Rihanna*
Alina Rhys's (District 9) P.O.V:
This time of year, I miss Macey more than ever. Every time I watch the Hunger Games, I think of last year. I think of the spear sticking out of my older sister's stomach, of her bloody shirt, of her collapsing onto the ground, of her eyes with that distant, glassy look in them, as the Careers whoop and holler as they walk away from her dead body, not caring. I remember long afternoons following that time, long afternoons of tears and depression and tears and suicidal thoughts and tears and tears and tears until there were no more tears to be cried. I remember dreading the morning, hating to get up because my sister wouldn't be there to greet me with breakfast on the table, wouldn't be there to make fun of my messy hair and laugh as she fixed it, wouldn't be there to walk with me to school, wouldn't be there to eat lunch with, wouldn't be there to race me home, wouldn't be there to help with homework, wouldn't be there to say 'good night', wouldn't be there at all because Macey is dead. She's dead.
And then I remember Felicity. The one who felt my same pain as Macey's best friend. The one who saw me sitting alone and came over and began to help me heal, slowly repair the damage done. I helped her, too, in my own way. She was broken, but she helped save me. And we became best friends after that.
She wasn't a replacement Macey for me, even though they were best friends. And I wasn't a replacement Macey for her, even though we were sisters. But that one person that meant so much to us both brought us together.
Today, on Reaping day, I can feel Macey watching over me from above, and I miss her. I know Felicity must be reminded of her old friend, too. We walk side by side into the section of twelve year old girls. Felicity gives my hand a faint squeeze, as if, it's going to be okay. Don't worry.
The escort walks out of the Justice Building after the video that plays every single year is shown on the screens. "Hello, hello, Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor! It's such a wonderful privelige, I should say to you, but, it's bullsh*t, I know that. Who gives a damn anymore, though? If the b*tchy Capitol people want it, they just have gotta have it. How would they like their children sent to the slaughterhouse, huh? Would they like their siblings and best friends brutally murdered by the f*cking Career assh*les? Would they like THAT? Well, sh*t no. And neither do we. But let's put on a good show because otherwise those Peacekeeping f*ckers are going to come and shoot us."
Of course, the real stuff stopped after the first sentence. I like to think that's what the escort's really saying.
It- I honestly can't tell whether the escorts a he or a she with the ridiculous attire and makeup they have on- walks over to the male Reaping ball and selects a name. "Woodrow Barnn."
The square is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. A girl ahead of Felicity and I suddenly lets out a high-pitched scream, and a woman in the crowd of adults begins to wail loudly. Or maybe it isn't so loud as she's making one of only two sounds in the square.
A boy with hair the color of lemons slowly walks forward, and then all at once, he takes his place, a shot fires, the wail is cut off abruptly, and the scream turns into a faint whimper.
The escort continues as if nobody had just died. She walks over to the girl's Reaping ball and selects a name. Felicity grabs onto my hand, squeezing it nervously. Not me. It isn't me. And it isn't Felicity.
"Alina Rhys!"
Oh, f*ck this goddamn sh*t.
"I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!"
OH, F*CK THIS GODDAMN SH*T, FELICITY! YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO VOLUNTEER FOR ME, B*TCH! I AM DISAPPOINTED IN YOU!
I want to yell at her as she takes my place. I also want to cry. I also don't want to lose her after I lost Macey. I don't want to go through this again. Am I just fated to lose someone I care about to the Games every single year? It doesn't seem fair.
Felicity Ginger, you better damn survive.