elmo latch | d10m | 1st hunger games | fini

[cameron]

elmo latch
eighteen years old
district ten tribute

son of theolonius and pearl latch
brother of twin sisters

not ready to die

They made us pancakes, and we ate ‘em all.

Then they kissed our heads and dashed out, and it wasn’t ‘till they were long gone that I realized just how strange that was. How far from the norm. The rations had drained us, from the very day they started. My sisters both are anaemic, and our parents worked double-time to press the right vitamins into pills to smuggle home from the lab. My dietary needs didn’t mesh with rationing all too well either, given my throat swells shut anytime I cross paths with wheat or nuts. But our parents tried their damnedest, and that’s why they hardly raised us at all, why Miss T taught us how to read and hang-dry our clothes, to carry ourselves with kindness and leave the resentment for the rebels, to turn the other cheek when the Nasties stormed through our streets. Ma and Pa were always working. They were home for four hours a night, maybe less, just enough to pretend to sleep before heading out again. The Latches were known around here, were thought of highly for their contributions to our livelihood in ten. Cleaner drinking water from aluminum attachments to faucets, ways to harness oil for all sorts of power.

Rumor has it they doled out explosives like hard candy to any rebel force who asked.

But that day, that day when we brushed our teeth clean from pancakes, clean from butter and syrup and love, that day I knew we wouldn’t see them ever again.

I remember my eyes widening in the mirror, remember my face turning just as pale as my sisters’, remember Miss T’s hand running down my back, saying “it’s gon’ be just fine, sweetheart. Your ma and pa, they the smart ones.” When I looked at her reflection her eyes had swollen shut like my throat.

Then we heard it. We heard them die. The ground shook and out the window we could see a cloud of smoke bloomin’ into the clouds, tendrils snakin’ out, our faces cold and reptilian. The explosion was impossible to miss, and Miss T’s words of comfort came shaky, her voice betraying her strength, ‘cuz nothing prepared anyone for this.

We’d hear about it every day for near another month, when the people from ten would leave us plates of sweet peas and rice on our doorsteps, would leave notes thanking us for Ma and Pa’s service. Their sacrifice. I didn’t want their thanks. I wasn’t any type of thankful. They killed themselves, and left us here in this shit hole world to suffer, left us with Miss T to look after us, and not long after she had packed up her things and left, too. “I ain’t gonna leave you girls,” I told the twins, and they curled up into my sides and slept while I stared ahead at the ceiling, stared and wondered what the hell we’d done to deserve any of this.

-

I’m not sure where to go from here. I’m not sure if we’re safe, not sure if we’re gonna survive. My parents blew up a building full of capitolite scum, made their flesh part of the landscape, soaked their blood into our expanse of flat earth. For nothing. The rebels still lost, still got rounded up and nails driven through their skulls, bullets breaking through their ribs like nothing, and we were left alone. The world was wide open but entirely closed, and all I wanted was to live. All I wanted was to have a normal life, with parents who came home and made dinner on the stovetop, with friends who came over and ate and laughed and lived. The capitol didn’t want that for me. And the capitol gets what the capitol wants.

ooc: done! its cb but i'll be off work tonight/tomorrow to blurb more out <3
sorry for the delay!!

[L△LIA]

Love the whole concept of the scientist parents double-crossing the Capitol! You have such great ideas and I love everything here and everything we've talked about on slack. What an innovator <3

ACCEPTED!