Jeremy Nalaar District 2 FINISHED

Ah, how long has it been since I wandered the streets of the Capitol. I could ask for nothing more in my life, everything came so easy to me, I needn't do anything but lift a finger and what I desired was mine. Sadly those years are behind me, I've been reduced to nothing more than a mere shadow of my former self. It is rare that my face is seen among the people of District 2, I prefer to...observe...from the safety of my home. I don't belong here, at least not in the way that someone who is native to this place is, the Capitol is my home. They know it, everyone in District 2 knows that I don't belong here, my mannerisms alone are enough to set me apart. Like it or not though this is my new home, and the people of District 2 will have to accept one very important fact...I'll be here a while. Let me give you some insight on my life before the events that brought me here before I continue. After all we don't start our studies of history at the end, we begin our studies where it all began.

I was a young man from a prestigious and wealthy family in the Capitol. Many Capitolites believe it is beneath them to do any large amount of work, instead they leave it to those chosen especially to carry out the task of performing. My father was never one of those people, he was a performer through and through, a master of illusions and magic. He shared his love for illusions and magic with me, and I was the best that there was. For many years I worked along side him, learning from him until I was a true master of my craft. The illusions I created weren't simple little tricks, they were illusions to fool the mind into thinking that something was there that wasn't. They truly believed what they were seeing was the truth...how wrong they were.

My father became interested in illusions because he said his whole life was an illusion. He lived the proper life of any Capitolite, doing as he was told, living the life of grandeur and parties. It was all a facade though, he loved his illusions because he said the real illusion was the life he lived right now. He took me aside one day and told me that he was a rebel, he was the eyes and ears of an organization bent on destroying the Capitol and its way of life. Like most citizens of the Capitol would be I was outraged and told him I would turn him in to the Peacekeepers. I told him he was a fool for thinking that he could get away with something like this. All he did though was give me one of his knowing smiles...he knew I wouldn't turn him in, I couldn't turn him in anymore than I could turn myself in. Without knowing it I had become part of his foolish rebellion, a rebellion I didn't even believe existed. Simply by being part of his illusion act I had unwittingly signed myself up for something I didn't understand.

The closer my father got to "obtaining" whatever it was he was after the more ridiculous the illusions were that he tried to perform. That was until a certain night...the trick went wrong...the illusion fell apart and my father was no where to be seen. In a panic I waved the crowds away and told them the show was over for the evening, and I began to search around for my father in the hopes that it really was just that...a failed trick. I knew better than to believe that though, this...this...TRICK stunk of the Capitol, they knew something was going on with my father, he had been found out. I simply gave up the search, I knew that my father was gone, and his "disappearance" would be swept under a rug, no questions asked. I couldn't have been any more wrong about that though, for the next day the Peacekeepers were on the verge of knocking down my door before I opened it up to them. Without so much as a word they pushed passed me and into the house, turning over chairs, spilling the contents of our desk onto the floor. Anger welled up inside me and I grabbed one of the Peacekeepers by the shoulder and slammed him into the wall demanding to know the purpose of this break in. All I got in responce was a grunt and a shove as he motioned for the others to follow him as he left. Whatever they had been searching for...they hadn't found it...and I now knew what my father had meant when he told me that the safety the Capitol feigned to give us was the grandest illusion in the world.

I took on the "family business" as it were when my father disappeared. I never knew exactly what it was that I was supposed to be doing, but I created even bigger and more glorious illusions. In that time I also took on a wife, a beautiful girl who had approached me asking about my illusions. With a wink I had told her a magician never reveals his secrets to anyone, but she never gave up. She came to every show I had, and after every show she would ask me the same question. When I wouldn't tell her anything she asked simple questions about me and my life, and it went on like that for several months. Than one day after my show she came up to me and held out a ring to me. She told me she wanted to be part of my illusions and part of my shows, she wanted to learn my secrets, and the only way to do that was to be my wife. So I accepted her proposal, even if it was customary for the man to make the proposal in those days. For years the two of us worked side by side until she knew every secret of my trade, EVERY secret. Just as I had been forced into something I didn't understand I had forced my wife into something she didn't understand.

Eventually rumors began to circulate around the Capitol that rebels were moving around among us, and some of us, the Capitolites. An old wound was opened, my father's name was passed around, and eventually my own. There was no substantial evidence to support their claims, and instead of executing me I was given an ultimatum. I could either leave the Capitol of my own free will or I and my family would be imprisoned. Of course it's not the usual brutal attitude of the Capitol that I was used to, perhaps they felt that living in the districts would be punishment enough. At this point I had two kids as well as my wife to take with me while we ran away, no better than a bunch of fugitives. We ran away in the dead of night, and I couldn't help but wonder, wasn't running away admitting our guilt? There was no time for second thoughts though, it was run or face the true wrath of the Capitol.

Sadly my wife didn't make the journey, she died just days from the border fence of our new home, District 2. I had so many regrets as I cradled her head in my lap, I had lost my wife, and our daughters had lost their mother. They didn't understand what had happened though, they were so young and naive, simple children two years of age. That was almost fifteen years ago now, fifteen years that I've felt out of place in the world.

Now we are sufficiently caught up with everything, we are now in the current part of my life, a life alone and without much to give me happiness. My daughters have grown up to be beautiful, one of them is so much like me, while the other took on the playful nature of her mother. They both share in the family business of magic and illusions, although they don't represent what they used to. They are just that, illusions, tricks and slight of hand, I would not allow my daughters to be forced into something like I had done to my wife. Because of me we weren't even in our real home, my daughters would never know that they were Capitolites. Now, because of me my daughters would be subjected to the possibility of participating in the Hunger Games. Perhaps that had been the real point of all of this, of casting me out of my home, and subjecting me to the worry that my daughters could die in the Games.

This was life in the districts, never knowing whether the child you love could be taken away from you and killed. Once upon a time I didn't believe in the rebellion that my father spoke of, and I'll admit even now I remain sceptical. However, what I do believe in is the corrupt nature of the Capitol. Beneath all of the beauty and grandeur of the Capitol they were a monster, waiting to strike and kill all those who opposed them. Perhaps all this time I had been nothing but a mirror image of my father, an old man clinging to a dream of freedom and rebellion. I was so much like my father now, the greying hair and drawn sallow face that seemed devoid of emotion. I appeared frail and weak to those that looked upon me, a crazy old man who could perform little magic tricks. It was all just another illusion though, for while I performed my black eyes were watching everything. This was my duty though, I could not involve my daughters, this was my secret...my burden to carry.