joy to the world full of vespolis [Jorg<3]

[arx!!]

Catalina Vespoli

District 4 - Eighteen - Heir of Nothing

I let the water wash over me, seeping into my hair, down my back. It's been so long since I've had a proper shower that I can feel the sweat, smoke, and sand simply flow off me in layers. These rich Career families had it good. Running water? I mean, come on, what family in Panem could actually afford that? Mine certainly couldn't. I barely made enough to keep everyone fed. It was a good thing we Vespoli's were good at improvisation. That and selling drugs to all the rich kids, that certainly didn't hurt.

I step out of the shower, grabbing a towel from the rack nearby. Soft as a cloud, it had to be. I smirk in the mirror, decorated with pictures of past District 4 tributes - or at least those that finished well. Mr. Krigel's got a very special place pinned above the mirror, his face plastered with a lipstick stain and tiny hearts. Gag me with a fucking spoon.

I stifle quickly through the dresser just off of the bathroom finding only men's collared shirts and slacks. But the cologne that was seemingly infused with the fabric of each and every shirt smelled exactly like a clean ocean breeze. I wrapped myself in one, shoved all of my dirty clothes in my bag, grabbed a towel from the shelf full of towels, and hopped back out the window I came in through.

My hair is soaking the back of my new shirt, the chilly night makes me wish I had grabbed pants, and I wish more than anything that I had grabbed a bottle of wine from inside before I left. But gosh was the ocean pretty tonight. The moon reflected off the waves, twinkling just as much as the night sky full of stars. I let out a sigh and move on after taking in the view. I take my time getting back to the beached boat, not wanting to encounter too many of my siblings.

No need to be more of a disappointment to them than I already was.

And suddenly the craving hit me. Hard. I had Mom and Dad to thank for that. An addiction, a garden full of cannabis, and too many kids to try and take care of. That's all they left.

Fuckers.

I angrily sift through my purse, looking for any little bit of a joint. All I manage to scrounge up are a few pills I got from some girl last night. She tried to convince me they were good payment and ran off before I could demand that she give me cash. "Screw it," I mutter, throwing my head back and slamming the pills down.

I don't feel them starting to work until I've made it back to the Garden of Weed. I lay the towel I stole on the ground, use my purse as a pillow, roll myself a joint, light it, and stare up at the stars.

"Ain't you pretty?" I say, staring and pointing at the sky as it swirls around my head. And all I can think to do is laugh as the stars rain down on me, tickling my skin and whispering in my ears.

[Deleted]

The iron melted to each other creaks as I walk down these hollowed halls. Each steps solicits a new groan from the ancient boat that we call home. Each moan tells a story of the many it lives it has seen. The captain and his underlings call out to me; the patrons who come and go dance in front of me. I look at the rusted images, each one coming and going with every new creak from the halls. The rusty doors scream its muffled message to me at every swing; the lights fighting for their chance to speak. Every aspect of this boat is trying to speak to me, to us really. My meds have not come down yet, but who ever said I wanted them to?

I search for the meaning of these things as the metal carpet stretches deep into the earth below me. Each stomp from my bare feet elicit a clank, telling me of the ghosts of the once wealthy and esteemed patrons. If they could only see how their mighty vessel has fallen. The sky painted pinks and purples as the ocean devours the sun in its nightly hunger, only to have the earth throw it back up again each and every morning. The endless cycle of it all is pointless, it accomplishes nothing new but yet it continues. I will never understand the point of it all, this game that is called life. I am looked down upon for selling the Vespoli brand of drugs upon Four yet, why would anyone enjoy the daily grind?

I enjoy my nightly escapes from reality, the meds and weed surly make the world a much prettier place. It is so boring and awful trying to live up to everyone’s expectations. We force ourselves to wear painted smiles when dance along the puppet strings of society’s expectations. They all bend to will of the monster that they created. Only my family sees the true enemy of the world. Though we play a part in the forced slavery of the monster that they try to control. We escape through the only option given by irony, drugs.

Society says that there is something wrong with people like me and my family. I say that we don’t buy their bullshit. Who creates an evil they cannot control? They try to do two actions that are mutually exclusive, submit to its control and dominate it at the same time. Who’s dumb enough to believe that those very things can ever coexist? I lay down in our personal dispensary and take a huge hit, giving myself over as I sink higher and higher into the clouds. They seem almost artificial, as if the Capitol put the damn clouds there themselves.

Is any of this real?

I notice a presence next to me as the stars rain down upon her. Her silver lining embeds a muddy crimson hue. I reach my deep blue energy to her and my abandonment mixes with her anger. After what her parents and mine put us through its only natural to feel the way we do. Catalina looks up towards the sky and asks it if it’s pretty? I take another hit and join her on the magical ride as she laughs. I laugh with her as I ride the stars to the moon.

“It’s so fucking beautiful. I wish I could live up instead.”

[arx!!]

Catalina Vespoli

District 4 - Eighteen - Heir of Nothing

I hadn't noticed anyone around before, though I'm not surprised. This place is usually swarming with kids --- all ages, all shapes and sizes, all with a joint dangling from their lips --- but at this hour? This is prime time for selling. There are swarms of kids lining the beach, sitting in front of bonfires, dancing to music, making out in the sand. I would expect all my partners in crime to be out there doing what we Vespoli's do best: drugs.

Not that it's much different than doing drugs right here, away from the world. We light up to escape from this world, not to enjoy it. It doesn't matter where we stand when it happens as long as we can float away, far away, somewhere no one knows. Escape. One way or another. Until we die.

“It’s so fucking beautiful. I wish I could live up there instead.”

Don't we all? To sail through the stars like a helmsman on his ship --- yes, that would be a life. I reach for a shell near me, running my finger along the smooth inside, wondering if I could disappear in the swirls and dips that pattern it, bathe in the colors that make it so beautiful.

"Evening, Liberum," I say, tossing the shell over my head, looking back up at the stars. I cross my legs, bouncing my. I smile. "No dealing tonight, huh?"

But Ripred how could he? The stars, the waves, the breeze, the sand --- it's all too beautiful tonight. To deal on a night like this would be crime.

"This is my selfish act for the week, so don't mind me."