veterans guilt / babe

[thompson harvard - d2b - arc]

It didn't make sense. How did the protector die before the rebel? How did I end up being the one alone? It was rigged - they had to be. Someone must have dropped the ball and let the government know that September's family sheltered rebels. I bet it was one of the fuckers who still believe this is okay. That any of this is right. One of the people who fought for their lives, who like me, went to sleep at seven, eight, nine years old not knowing if they would wake up.

I remember when we moved back to Five after the war, mom would always talk about how she couldn't trust any animal surrounding us. She opened up a butcher shop so she had an excuse to kill 'em. Said they were spies. That their eyes had lenses and that the Capitol was spying on us to make sure we weren't doin nothin suspicious. Mom went for the eyes first. Every time. She wanted to make sure she could get any sort of potential camera out. I remember spendin' time while dealin with the gross shit that butcher shops have to do asking mom how I could ever thank September. I felt like I owed him my life. Not that we didn't have other options for places to stay at, but it's because of him that I realized that there's still good people in the face of evil. He reminded me of how it felt to not be afraid of the dark. How as long as you had a story in your mind and a legacy to be told, the night doesn't last forever. Darkness, like light, is only temporary.

We eventually started giving them portions of meat to thank them. They didn't need it too much, but it definitely helped "fill up the table" as September's mother would phrase it. September just liked it because August would spend more time eating than talking, which was a rather enjoyable experience to have. Minus the fact that August still didn't know how to chew with his mouth closed. Eventually, September came up with this idea to make me candles and shit because we used to talk about being scared of the dark. Sometimes I'd light them. It wasn't often because they didn't always smell too good, so I kept them as a reminder of how much he cared. How good of a heart he has. It sucks that it's the only thing I have left of him now.

The stupid little victor's tour that they started doing to commend them for their horrendous, inhumane crimes was happening today. I didn't plan on seeing much of what he was up to. I don't care. I watched him stab my boyfriends eye. I watched him go from my boyfriends' path to victory to his path to the grave. Though, I wasn't going to stay locked up all day. What were the chances that I'd see the bitch?

Ends up, pretty high.

I was on my way to their house, actually. Even though September was dead now, I still felt a need to provide for his family. He wasn't the sole reason that I was alive. His mom did lead the operations, after all. On my way through my parts of town, the big old basket of meat being held on each side, I was trying my best not to drop it. Mom has been goin' extra with the meat lately. She feels bad. I feel bad. Though, a whip of a body and my feet hit force with the basket soon leaving my hands, followed by my body hitting the ground with the meat.

Fuck.

Now what the hell am I going to bring them? "Hey, buddy-" I look up to see the man himself. The killer. The person who caused this damn basket to be so heavy, our hearts just as. "Oh." I let out a grunt, to then pick myself up and grab the basket. "Lovely. Just what I needed." While I was mostly referring to seeing his fucking face, it was also the fact that the meat was all fucking dirty now. I'll probably need to deep wash this shit, throw it away, even. "What the hell you doin' around here?" Doesn't he have some special posse to bring him around the place?