I've been roaming around, looking down at all I see [Pogue]

[Hael [prev. reasons]]

"Faith!" I feel a small finger poke my arm as the soft whisper speaks to me. "Get up!" I groan and open my eyes, sitting up while doing so. I see Claire staring at me wide-eyed. "Okay, okay," I force myself to get up and change. "I going for a walk and Mrs. Holt is here to watch you guys. Be good," I tell my little sister while ruffling up her hair. I'm thankful it's a weekend so I don't have to go to school. "Aw, do you have to go?" She asks and I give her a tight lipped smile. I don't have to go exactly, but I would appreciate some time in the outdoors. I brush off my black pants and blue shirt before slipping on my jacket. It's not quite warm enough to go without one. I leave the Holt home and face the light breeze. The sun is peeking out behind the clouds and I hold my hand open, the rays running through my fingers. At times like these I am reminded how alone I am, how I don't have any friends and hardly any family. Except one friend, that is. My feet take me to a diner. It isn't very classy but it works for District Ten. When I enter, I see a few people milling about and I take an empty seat at the "bar" though there isn't any alcohol besides beer. This is a diner after all. "Good morning Faith," Mr Smit greets me warmly. He is an man in his later sixties and he treats me like the father I lost. "The usual please!" I tell him and he nods. "Coming right up!" I look around and notice one or two more people here than most days. I start to study the people, hoping to find worth watching. Table by Anzie

[Deleted]

PLEASE LET ME KNOW THAT MY ONE BAD DAY WILL END

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A N N A   C A R D O
DISTRICT10 | THIRTEEN | FEMALE

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It was amazing what some people would do to try and make themselves feel better.

Each day that dragged by seemed like an eternity going by, crushing me under an unmeasurable weight. Endless gift baskets had arrived on our front door, filled with everything from simple meat to bread, filled with all the guilt that people had only because they were grateful that they hadn't lost their children.

Because thats all they were doing, just trying to make themselves feel better by stuffing a wooden basket with everything they could spare. I felt like throwing the baskets in their faces, painting the blood from the pieces of meat on their faces like Thistle's blood had painted the ground of the Cornucopia. But no, I felt trapped inside my bedroom, golden chocolate wrapper ring around my finger like it'd been the past two days, whittling away the time while my father thanked the people with a fake face, filled with confidence and pride.

Sometimes I found the courage to settle my feet on the ground and push off, dragged forward by strings made of delicacy and guilt. I swear, it was like my brother being killed had put a mark on me, a mark made of blood and grief that said "Feel bad for me. Be silent and give me gifts because you want to feel better."

Thanks, Thistle.

The silence is what I hated the most. It was everywhere when I walked, filling the sidewalks and streets, even the district square seemed like someone had pressed mute when I walked through it. That's one of the things I hated the most, the silence. Gifts of guilt and false comfort I could handle, but some chatter when I walked through the square would be nice.

I feel like i'd died right along with Thistle, except instead of going where ever dead spirits go with Thistle, i'd been brought back. Maybe it was some black magic voodoo type of deal. Maybe I was just a zombie. I sure as hell felt like one, I felt like each step became heavier and heavier, like I was being dragged down into nothingness with every step forward. Two steps forward and one final drag into a void.

The silence hit me like nunchucks to the head when I stepped into the diner, every set of eyes in the small and rundown place pinpointing me with laser accuracy. That was always the hardest part, getting through a crowd that wasn't even a crowd, but a group of silenced beasts, watching prey.

I couldn't help but feel out of place as I made my way to a small stool in the corner, my legs dangling off the stool as I sat down. I felt lost and uncomfortable, afraid and alone. All I wanted to do was pull my legs to my chest and curl up into a ball, sit on the ground and wallow in grief and agony.

But Momma always said that sitting with my legs to my chest in public was rude.

I fully intended to pay for my own meal with the money that I had managed to scrape together from seat cushions and a plastic piggy bank. So, when the owner placed a plate of food down in front of me and told me that "It's on the house, i'm so sorry for your loss.", I couldn't help but be a little bit shocked, and a little bit angry.

I managed to nod to him, something i'm sure he thought was a nod of thanks.

Everything just kept getting worse.

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[Hael [prev. reasons]]

F A I T H H E L E N S

"Y O U K N O W T H A T I C O U L D U S E S O M E B O D Y"
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The walls are painted a soft yellow to make the diner more welcoming and give it that "homey" feel. The stools and benches are made out of wood. Sure, they aren't the most comfortable but they work. The bell rings every time someone enters the diner and I turn my head at the chime.

A girl with the skin of chocolate walks in and she looks more than just tired. She looks like she has been grieving a lot for a thirteen-year-old, we all know she has and why. Because she was the Anna Cardo.

"It's on the house, I'm so sorry for your loss." Mr Smit. places a plate in front of her and she looks tired of it all. I stare at the cup in between my palms and try and imagine myself in her shoes.

What would it be like to loose someone you love? I already know the answer. I lost someone I loved before losing another. I know what it's like, I have it memorized and I will never forget it. You can't forget someone you love and the grief they caused you.

Maybe Anna just wants to have a normal conversation without someone pouring out their condolences. Maybe she wants a friend. Maybe I could give her what I never had when I most needed it.

"Hi, I'm Faith." I spin my stool towards her and try and use a voice that isn't too grumpy or too cheery and fake. People always smile fake, use fake voices and be much too nice when they find out someone special in your life has died. I'll try my best not to be like them.

I twitch the edges of my lips into a tiny smile in a weak effort to be polite. "You come here often?"

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[Deleted]

ANNA

PLEASE LET ME KNOW THAT MY ONE BAD DAY WILL END

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A N N A   C A R D O
DISTRICT10 | THIRTEEN | FEMALE

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One time Thistle had read to me some information about a study he'd been reading up on. Now, I don't know if many people realize this when they're older, but a ten year old's ability to stay focused on one thing in particular was very limited, especially when that one thing was your brother talking in that same boring tone and spewing out big words like you actually understood him.

Shit, I wish i'd listened more.

Even so, eventually I got tired of focusing on everything but Thistle, and i'd instead trained my gaze on him. What I managed to catch about that study was something about people being put in a room by themselves, sitting at a table with brightly colored dots thrown on it. All that was all fine and dandy, rainbows and ribbons.

But heres where it gets interesting. I guess, an unanimous amount of the people that were put into that room ended up putting all those little dots into a perfect square, arranging them because that's what their mind immediately thought to do.

I think that's how I was looking at all these people around me, relating them in my mind as nothing but people that were just doing what their minds were supposed to do, take something that was scattered and lost -The Cardo Family- and arrange it into something that was at least sort of put together again -The gifts and the baskets, all of ir just an attempt to put us (and themselves) back together again-.

I would have loved to leave this place right this very moment, find the courage to get on my feet and push off from that wooden stool and out the door. I wanted that chime to signify my leaving, not my arrival.

But a heart as heavy as an anchor and fingers glued to the fork I held stopped me.

Eyes like broken glass as I looked down at the plate, picking at the food like it was going to jump at me any second and slice my head off. Maybe I was just being so unbelievably heartless and cruel like I was when I got to see him for the last time. Maybe I was just being wicked and pushing people away that were only trying to help me.

But then again, maybe I was spot on in my observations. The dots and the arrangements.

And of course, maybe those dots were sometimes left un arranged.

"Hi, i'm Faith." A voice breaks the silence, shattering it like a rock going through a glass window. I swear, I nearly dropped my fork in the process of lifting the now cold food to my mouth. I had always wanted that silence broken, but now that it was, it just felt so out of place.

My eyes were wavering still as I stared at her. Where was it? Where was the hug, the fake smile and the cheery and sad voice, telling me that it would be okay and telling me it'd get better, apologizing not for me but for themselves. Where the fuck was it?.

"You come here often?" Instead, the girl says something as if this is just a normal conversation, as if this is just the two of us, having lunch in a small and shitty diner, not a care in the world except for how we were going to pay for our meals. It was... Almost normal.

And normality, at a time like this, was something I both wanted and despised.

She was trying, she was trying real hard to not be like them, to be normal and to not offer sympathies. Sympathies weren't what I needed at a time like this. I didn't know what I needed. But I knew what I wanted.

"I....." Words seem so foreign to me at this point, like my vocal cords were tied up and snipped. I hadn't uttered many words the past few days, honestly, and it was enough to make my voice crack as I looked down at the ground, hand tightening around the fork I was holding.

"No... First time coming here. And-...you?"

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[Hael [prev. reasons]]

F A I T H H E L E N S

"Y O U K N O W T H A T I C O U L D U S E S O M E B O D Y"
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"I....."

She trips on her words, reminding me of falling down the stairs. When I lost my parents, I didn't bother answering or concocting a conversation and sometimes I still don't. At least she tried, I congratulate her for that.

"No... First time coming here. And-...you?"

"I try to come here as often as I can," I tell her while lifting one shoulder in a half shrug.

Giggles lead my eyes to the large window. Through the specks and streaks, I see a little girl giggling atop her father's shoulders. I long for my own father, although this man holds no resemblance to him. I long for his graying hair, the crinkles around his ocean blue eyes, his loving touch and personality. I wish I had got to know him better, but he was away so often. The little girl reminds me of Claire, she even looks like her. I wonder what my siblings are doing. Only Ripred knows.

"You should really try the tea sometime, it's great." I take a sip of my own tea, my chapped lips feel the smooth cup, the warm liquid sliding down my throat. My body cherishes this.

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[Deleted]

ANNA

PLEASE LET ME KNOW THAT MY ONE BAD DAY WILL END

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A N N A   C A R D O
DISTRICT10 | THIRTEEN | FEMALE

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This wasn't right.

None of it, none of it was right. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. I wasn't supposed to be sitting here like this, holding a conversation about tea when all I should be doing is grieving, grieving along with the rest of my family just as they were doing right now.

My thumb presses into the ring I made out of a candy wrapper only hours after Thistle was killed in a macabre burst of Capitol entertainment, leaving a small dent in the cheap aluminum. It was so fragile, so cheap and delicate that one tear could bring it falling off my finger, dead and useless.

I was foolish and selfish to come here, to take all the coins out of the piggy bank that sat on the small table in my room, to sit down in this seat and accept free food while my family was busy trying to sew themselves back together again. They'd never be able to do it, I could already see the changes in my mother, the way her lips curled downwards instead of upwards, the way here eyes seemed lost, vacant and empty whenever she looked at you.

I wouldn't be able to do it, either.

I could feel it inside of me as soon as she recommended the tea, lost anger and viciousness that had been making it's way through my mind for days now. Building and building up like a lump in my throat, a bubble of malice that was just waiting to be popped.

Just one slight prick and it'll pop.

She shrugs.

It bursts.

"Why are you acting like this? Like you don't even realize the fact that you want to make yourself feel better by apologizing to me?" My words launch themselves at her, my voice carrying nothing but disgust for not just her, but everyone here. I can feel eyes turn towards me, some filled with sympathy and others with confusion. I don't care, they can listen all they want, it's not like this didn't concern them.

"If you want to be able to tell yourself you're a good person by apologizing to me, then just do it already.

Don't torture me by trying to actually talk to me."

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[Hael [prev. reasons]]

F A I T H H E L E N S

"Y O U K N O W T H A T I C O U L D U S E S O M E B O D Y"
_____________________________

She starts shouting at me. The words are muffled, I only here the words they make. A sigh escapes my lips and I try to recall what she just said.

"If you want to be able to tell yourself you're a good person by apologizing to me, then just do it already."

Great, another person added to the ever growing list of my enemies.

I gnaw on the inside of my right cheek, digesting these words and what I should say to them. I look around the room realizing the whole diner is watching. I slide off my stool to land on my feet.

"Follow me," it's not a suggestion but rather a command. It would surprise me if she did, leaving with a stranger and not knowing where we were going.

I trudge along the paths, glancing over my shoulder to see if she follows. I walk past Holt house and don't stop walking until I reach my old house. Even though it has been vacant for only three years, how neglected it is shows. Teenagers - likely drunk - have made it their duty to trash the place. I pas the open door and walk straight through the house. Cigarettes and bottles litter the floor, graffiti and toilet paper line the walls. It used to be a nice and clean house with a homey feel. All traces of that are gone.

The backyard is a much better sight to the eyes. There is some trash here and there, but for some reason people stay out of the backyard. Flowers are blooming, creating a beautiful scene.
"The struggles I face
from day to day

Are struggles that won't
seem to fade away

I wake in the morning
and what do I see

A lost little girl
mourning to be

I struggle with loss,
pain and anxiety too

But most of all I
struggle from not having you

Time will heal
So they say

So I watch the clock
As time fades away."
My words come out in a soft whisper, only audible for Anna to here. As sad as the poem was, I can still find the beauty in it every time I of it. I can relate to the author Kathy Hood - who had written it years before my time.

I feel the soft flower petals between my fingers, the delicate thing is simple but beautiful. "You have to be brave when you least want to." The words pass my lips without permission. I hesitantly let my eyes to go to Anna, wondering what her reaction will be.

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