Post by Arrows on Oct 30, 2014 8:03:14 GMT -5
Newt Paratia
17 male
When you are all your family has to keep them alive, do you really think you could ever truly be normal? I have been the soul provider for my family ever since I was twelve. It all started as me simply taking a job as a delivery boy for the shops around the square. Then I started getting Tessarae, at first just one... then it become one every month. I had to or else I would watch my family wither away into nothingness. Imagine having to come home every day to see your mother lying ill with little to no recovery. Seeing your younger siblings bones clearly underneath your skin and knowing the only reason they are even still breathing is you. Needless to say I had to grow up pretty fast ever since my father died of starvation Ripred knows how long ago.
Things got so bad I had to leave school at age fifteen and join a full job. Normally the Capitol wouldn't allow children to drop out of school but here in twelve the peace keepers hardly seem to give a shit anymore. In fact, some of them even look as hungry as us even though I'm sure they can't be. My new substitution for school was just about the roughest job someone could have when they are too young to work in the mines. It was mine and many others job to transport the heavy carts of coal to train stations to be shipped to the Capitol. The work is grueling and often results in injuries for many of its workers, but I remain careful. If I were to get injured my family would be at its biggest risk with its main lifeline severed. I learned early to be careful since when I joined the force I was a measly and partially starved child. At first it felt useless as the squad I was assigned to moved the carts from one location to the next. All it felt like was as though I was pushing a brick wall in an attempt to make it fall. Eventually though I did begin to notice faint muscle growth and it continued. Believe me when I say I am far from ripped but I am definitely stronger than my skinny structure portrays.
As for life at home... it was a struggle as well. I wake up early every morning to make a meager breakfast for myself, my mother, my two younger brothers, and my sister. After that I pack my work supplies and get to the bloody grind yet again. Once the whistle finally blows signalling quittin time I make my way to the local black market. I honestly despise the place but it has become a place of opportunity for my family. Throughout the day at work I will sneak a piece of coal here and there into my pockets and pack... I mean wouldn't you if you were starving? Of course I save some for my family but the rest I trade at the market in exchange for food and other various things we need. After that I quickly scurry back to my family's shack of a home. Once there I fall back into another routine. First I light a small fire with the stolen coals I keep stocked then I tend to my mother. I always bring her cheap and seemingly useless remedies from the market to try to heal her and she takes them without any resistance. The most frustrating thing of all is not having enough damn money to even get her looked at by an apothecary to find out what the hell she has! All I can do is just sit and listen in agony as she coughs up horrible vile liquids and moans in pain throughout the night. Every night I go to bed thinking that it could be my last time with her alive, but for now she wills herself to fight on. However, that can only take someone so far in this world.
Back to my home life after caring for her, well I prepare supper. I typically prepare small portions for everyone so they can make it until the morning. Only for birthdays and special occasions do I ever prepare more than necessary. After that I prepare my siblings for bed and tuck them all into their single shared queen sized mattress on the floor. Then once finished I add a few more coals to keep the fire burning through the night for sake of our warmth. Only then will I make my way into my bed a simple once torn but patched hammock that hangs barely connected to two walls in the corner of our shack. Did I forget to mention this is all in literally one room which is our entire house except a puny bathroom with no running water and a wooden toilet. So all in all we are poor down to the bone, living purely off of my back alone. It is a weight and burden I have found myself cracking and wavering under for many years now. *Sighs* So many years...
I only ever wanted to grow up and become a talk show host like Caesar Flickerman in the Capitol. Yet that dream was killed viciously by the reality of this world. Slain like my father at its unforgiving hands. It is because of this I view the world and life so pessimistically. Where others see beautiful trees and flowers I see life bound to die eventually and most likely in a horrible way. Where others see a blue sky I see a canvas of blue sadness created by all the sorrows of the people of the world. Some people are happy and others are optimistic well that's great for them, but it just isn't me and never will be.
Also in case you haven't been able to notice yet I am a very protective person. I have troubles trusting people right out of the gate, however, if you can break through my defenses then I am very very defensive of you. Of course though no one has been able to do that other than my family so I wish you the best of luck there. I mean honestly if I wanted friends I am sure I could find some but they simply wouldn't last. I would hardly ever see them with my life schedule. Also not to mention just about everyone leaves my life just like my Father did. It's not even that I just feel that one day everyone leaves me, its something I have come to accept.
Another thing I have come to accept along with every single person I meet is the fact I am brutally honest. I'm not the kind of person who would lie if someone asked if they looked good in an awful outfit. In fact, I would probably pick out every small detail wrong, I mean they did ask after all. I don't see the point behind lying to people only in order to make them feel better. Plus if you are honest all the time you can't really get in trouble for lying period now can you? However, I don't blame people for lying simply because they have grown up with it. They were born into a lie right off the bat, the Capitol is kind and takes care of all its citizens. Biggest bunch of rubbish I've ever heard of.
If they really gave a single damn they would see how my body is frail except for slight muscles on my arms. They would see my dreadfully pale and freckle spotted skin having a permanent layer of soot and dirt on it. They would notice my miserably cut short black hair and my fading light blue eyes. They would be able to see all the scars I have on my hands and knuckles from pushing the coal to their trains. They would see how utterly helpless both I and all of the district looked.
They would even be able to note my short height of 5 feet seven inches due to the fact I don't have all the nutrients as the big strong boys in the Career districts. They could actually calculate my weight to some where around 120 pounds but I don't even know my own weight because, oh right, I don't have a scale! For Ripred's sake they would even see my ripped and flighty rags I call clothes. Yet they don't because the only time they give District 12 any attention is when they punish us for not meeting our desired quotas. Only once was there ever a time when I don't remember my stomach grumbling EVERY day but instead only one or two days a week. A time when the Capitol actually looked to District 12 in awe, and probably in utter shock. It was when Arbor, Aranica, and Heron all won their Hunger Games in a span of four years. Also to this day no other District has won the games twice in a row like we did. However, those days are over and now we are the laughing stalk of the games again. Arbor is just some damn drunken fool and Aranica and Heron are never seen any more. Every year we all have to sit and watch as our two tributes are slaughtered. I mean just take these games for example, young Emery Willton only lasted until the second day when she was mauled by mutts. Then Jim Deer quickly followed suit as he died the very next day to another tribute. All I long for is one more victor, I just want my siblings to know what it's like to not always be hungry. Is that to much to ask? Or must I go and get it for them myself?
Odair is the word
