Sleep

He leaves his house dishevelled.  His sister didn't sleep all night again because of her... sadness.  He stayed up listening to her crying.  Knowing that he couldn't make her stop.
He goes to school, the teachers speaking are background noise.  They ask him a question, remark about how he should get his act together.
He wonders if his sister got out of bed this morning.
Did he see her in the kitchen?
Is she eating?
No, no.  He doesn't think so.
She's been too frail.
And cries.  She cries so much.
The teacher yells at him.
His tired eyes blink.
He doesn't have energy to speak.
His tired eyes blink.
He slowly falls asleep. He can sleep here.

She lays in bed shivering.
There aren't enough blankets to warm her up.
Her puffy cheeks are squished between several pillows and layers of sheets.
But she's still freezing.
Her alarm is still going off, but she doesn't have the strength to raise her arm and turn it off.
Why does she still set her alarm?  She knows she wont respond to it.
Her stomach growls.  When did she last eat?
She can't remember.  Her memory is failing.
She starts crying.  She doesn't like not being able to remember things.
She can't even remember her brother's face.
The last time she really saw him, he was starting to have a shadow of stubble.
She thinks.
Did he have stubble?
Her tiredness pulls her under.
Her breathing slows.

His classes go by slowly.  A few of his friends knock his shoulder, call out and joke around beside him.
He feels his fatigue lift a bit.
He eats a sandwich he bought with his change.
He gets to joke and smile with his friends.
They ask about his day and make fun of their teachers.
He thinks about how they're people too.
He didn't like mocking teachers.
A teacher walked by and calls him aside.
The teacher asks what's going on with him.
The teacher says that his grades are plummeting.
He can't tell his teacher it's because he can't do his homework.
Because he has to go straight home.
If he stays at school to do it, his sister is alone.
But when he goes home, he has to clean the entire house.
When he goes home he has to make dinner and try to feed his sister.
Sometimes she eats.
But then she goes to the bathroom.
And sleeps.
Then she will wake up and cry.
He blinks at his teacher and apologizes.
He says that he just has more important things to do.
His teacher takes it as he's lazy and doesn't want an education.
He just wants his sister to be here to have a chance at an education.
He walks away from his teacher.

Her breathing stops.

He walks home slowly.
His limbs feel heavy.
He wonders if he would have time to take a nap on the couch.
As he gets to the front door, there's an energy shift.
Suddenly he is awake and alert.
His parents aren't home.
He takes out his phone and sees that they should've been home already.
He opens the door and sees that everyone's shoes are gone.
Even his sister's.
It's odd to think they all went out.
He goes to the fridge, but freezes.
He should check his sister.
He walks upstairs, and knocks on her door.
"Amalia?"
No answer.
He swears and walks in.
Her room is a mess.
There's a pungent smell.
The bed is empty.
He heads downstairs and opens a can of olives.
He takes out some chips.
Cheese.
He microwaves the nachos.
Just as he sits down he gets a phone call.
It's his dad.
His dad tells him what happened.
His dad says his mother and himself came home.
They checked on his sister.
She was cold.
Asleep.
Shallow breath.
They took her to the hospital.
Her organs have failed.
They're doing surgery.
But she's not healthy.
She isn't okay.
They don't think she will be.
He hangs up.
He pushes away from the nachos.
He's very tired.
He looks at the couch, and slowly, slowly, slowly walks to it.
He sits down, and slides to lay down.
His eyes close.
And he falls asleep.Sleep

Birthdays.

Growing up, I used to think about my birthday always.  I would watch shows and movies and be in awe about how caring and loved a person could be on their birthday.  Plus there was one thing that I fantasized about.
Surprise parties.
What says 'We all love you so much and wanted to surprise you to make you feel bombarded with love' better than a surprise party itself?
And every year I would pick up hints like, "Let's go out for the day and just have a nice quiet evening at home." And of course, people not mentioning my birthday at all.
So for the entire day I would get so excited about a possible surprise party, only to feel crushed to see that there was no one.
And every year, that hope had lessened ever so slightly.
My brother's birthday and my own are a month a part, so we would go on vacation in the summer and a month after my own birthday we would celebrate both of our birthdays. But it would be on his birthday.
And my young little self always felt so defeated and sad on this day.  Because it wasn't like the shows or movies.
You see, I loved seeing people picking out these heart-filled gifts for people without having to ask the question "What do you want for your birthday?"
Because when people ask that it feels like a jab in the heart.
They don't know you.
They don't care to put thought into the gift.
All of these thoughts just jumble together and make the sad day a depressing day.
I wouldn't want to get out of bed on my birthday.  Not because of growing older, but because of how isolated and lonely I felt.
How I feel.
I love other people's birthday's.  I enjoy picking out a gift for them and celebrating with them.
But it's never happened to me.
The go to is a dinner out.
I don't like going out for dinner.
Yet every year it's the same "Where do you want to go for dinner?"
And the worst thing about this day?
How incredibly selfish I feel.
Because saying all these things seem awful to me because that isn't who I am.  Yet obviously it is because these are my feelings about it.
So it makes me feel like shit.
With telling people how I feel about my birthday, whether I say I just want something they put thought into (or even just hanging out.  I really like being with my friends) or saying I don't want to go out for dinner (in which they get sad and don't know how to respond), they do comply.
They'll say, "What do you want to do then?"
And the most horrible thing is I don't know.
If I were to say a surprise party, it would 1. not be a surprise and 2. I would feel depressed then too because I brought it up.  Not them.
So maybe television warped my views on birthdays.
I just want today to end and not talk about my birthdays anymore.

To My Father

What an awful person I'm becoming,
I'm terribly sorry.
I guess I'm just in the wrong.
Always stuck between who I am
What I'm feeling
and how people want me to act.
I guess since it seems like I have been doing so well
you have forgotten what has happened
what is happening.
"But you're adult." You say.
"You can't live in college dorms.  Too many awful things happen there."  You contradict yourself with.
"I'm going to get a house with a basement quite for you to live."  You contradict yourself with.
And no matter what I say
Act
Or do
I will never
ever
be
or have enough
to convince you
otherwise.
What a terribly awful person I'm becoming.
I'm stuck
and my heart hurts a lot right now.
And I don't know what to say
because my emotions aren't proper right now
and you get angry with me
and say how I need to act like an adult
because my disrespect
is unacceptable
and I'm stuck
and I don't know what to do
and it's really hard to breathe
and I just need to get away
and you're pulling my by reigns
and choking words down my throat
so quickly that I can't answer
so I stay silent
so you get angrier
so I close my eyes
so you exhale
and everything gets quiet.
And I don't know what to do
what to say
how to think.
And you mutter something that I could only imagine
and you leave.
And I know that you've left a part of me in this room
and you won't take it back
and this will happen again
and again
and again
until you have nothing left of me
and I am nothing
to
you.

A Hunger Games Excerpt

I don't know why I was excited for this.  I mean, I was ecstatic for it, really I was.  But when it started I... felt something was wrong.
This wasn't right.
But what did I have to lose?
________________________________

Journal entry 209

Mum is sick again.  I don't know how she'll fair from being hit with such a strong illness a few weeks ago.  She's still so frail, and father can't take care of her because he's been taking his week long trips into the mountains for supplies.  He left four days ago for a strong strain of minerals so he can clear mum's system, but he won't be back for several more nights.  I'm doing all the house caring right now, including taking care of  the chickens and horse.
It was hard to clean the grass today because it was raining s'much.  It made me want to hop on Ringer and trot gracefully into the clouds.
Mum said I need to stop all this dreaming nonsense because when I get out into the real world I can't take time for petty, unrealistic dreams.
The rain made me feel like she was right.

________________________________

Journal entry 210

Mum's getting worse.  It's only been two nights since I last wrote, and I can clearly see her veins.  It's scaring me because when I went out to groom Ringer, he had this pasty film over his eyes and he seemed very upset.  He kept stomping and shouting, he actually bit his tongue almost clean in half.
The rain hasn't stopped.
________________________________

Journal entry 211

Oh I have amazing news!  I was in the village square today, and one of the government officials was talking to the towns people asking if we would want a way to help our starving and pain.  What a stupid, stupid, stupid question.  Of COURSE we don't want to suffer any more!  We all signed an official form asking for help, and he said he's send for the event right away.  Everyone is prepping and getting oh so excited, oh my goodness I have to stop writing about this event because I have amazing news about mother.  When I was in the village, the man spoke to me privately and asked how my life was.  I went on t' tell him how my mum was very sick and how I would love to talk to him, but I needed to go take care of her.  Then he asked me a strange question.  He asked me if I loved her.  I remember tilting my head confused, like he was telling one of those strange jokes that teenagers didn't get, but his expression stayed blank.  I nodded.  Then he gave me a vile after I explained what was wrong with her, and I thanked him so terribly much and ran off to mum.
I told her about the medicine, and how a government official gave it to me, but she refused to take it.
She always hated the government, so I knew she'd say no.
But I planned for that.
When she was asleep on the couch, I injected her.  She didn't even know, nor did she wake up from it.  She looks so peaceful.
________________________________

Journal entry 212

I got a letter today.
From father's partner.
Dad isn't coming home.
________________________________

Journal entry 213

I feel like a piece of my heart has been torn off.  Daddy fell from the signal tower placed at the mineral station.  It's set up there for emergency use, and I can't think why he'd ever have to use it.  His partner, James, said that father was spooked because he thought he saw a strange shadow, so he rushed up the ladder, but when he almost got to the top, the ladder somehow shattered, and father's head split against the rocks.
I love him so much.  Daddy, I love you so much.
And mum is acting strange.  She's been sleeping on and off, barely eating anything.  I think her body is just replenishing herself.  She asked if I injected her, and I had to lie to her.
I checked on Ringer today and I had to call an animal caretaker to put him down.
He chewed off his own legs.
________________________________

Journal entry 214

Everyone gathered in the village today to talk about what was going to happen with rations and healthy living standards.  Things are changing.  I'm experiencing a major change!  I feel like I'm on air.
________________________________

Journal entry 215

Mum is sleeping a lot more now.  I haven't seen her open her eyes for over a day.  I'm worried, I can't lose her too.  I hope the medicine is helping her fight off this disease.
_________________________________

Journal entry 216

She didn't make it.  I called for help too late.  I went to wake her to eat, but she wasn't responding.  I was screaming at her.  Wake up, I said, mum don't leave me!  But when I ran for help, the doctor said she had been dead for two days.  I haven't noticed that her illness got so extreme.  Why didn't the medication work?  Why have I lost everything I've loved?  Father, Ringer, Mum.  I can't live here anymore now, the house costs too much too keep up by myself.  I have plans to be married off soon so I can have finances.  I don't know who yet, though.
I've let my family down.
I've let myself down.
________________________________

Journal entry 217

They're calling it 'The Hunger Games'.  The event that should help out our societies.  They're taking two people from each land plot and calling them separate divisions.   I don't know why they've split Panem like this, but I know live in district twelve.  They recently moved all the chickens and animals to a different district.  District two, I think.  Since we're near the mountains we focus on coal mining now.
They pull two people tomorrow.
A boy and a girl.
I hope it's me.
I want to help my people.
_______________________________

Journal entry 218

It happened.  So many girls were too young to enter, so there were only twenty names to pull.  I got pulled! As well as a boy whom I'm unfamiliar with.  Chase something.  Crawfoot? I think Crawfoot.
I'm so excited, we get to go to the Capitol tonight.  We get to drink and dine and dance tonight.
We aren't going to starve anymore.
_______________________________

Journal entry 219

We are allowed to bring two things with us into the event.  I'm choosing my journal and charcoal.  I want to be able to read what I have written as well as write what happens.  Chase is bringing a hairband for his hair (it is quite long and shaggy blond) as well as a pouch of pebbles.   I don't know why.
We drank so much last night, I think I've gained weight.  It feels so nice to be full.
________________________________

Journal entry 220

Tomorrow's the big day, oh gosh I'm so excited.
Mum, father, you're in my prayers.
________________________________

I don't like this.  I hate this, I'm scared and confused and don't know why they've set this up.  There's cannons going off, I think people are attacking each other I don't know why oh god I'm so confused.  Chase lunged at me before heading to the centre.  There was this large pile of objects, they looked sharp and scary and I couldn't run there.  I can only hear the announcer's voice saying that this is the first ever Hunger Games, and that the target is to take out our opponents, and the last man standing wins eternal happiness and riches and oh my god I can't kill people.  I can't kill people.  I can't kill people.  I can't kill people.
I ran away from the centre.  It's all rocks and trees.  I fell down a cliff and I think I dislocated my shoulder.  It hurts so much to move, but I can still wright.  I had to bite my cheek, but I put it back.  It hurt so much.  I never felt a physical pain so badly before.
I hid for a while today, and when it got to be sunset I ran to the centre to see if someone left anything behind.
There were so many bodies.
Clutching things.
Knives.
Swords.
Darts.
I grabbed the darts because I was hoping they only knocked people out.  Then I grabbed a bag that was filled with stuff in it, looted through pockets finding a pocket knife, lighter and compass.
But the compass doesn't work.  It flies around everywhere and never stays still.
I'm afraid to sleep.
I'm in a rock nook right now.
I can hear screams and cannons.
But they aren't screams of pain.
They're screams of rage.
_______________________________

I slept on and off through the night.  Every cannon shot jerked me awake.  At around midnight images of all that were killed filled the sky with our anthem music.
Why are they doing this?  How does this help?
I've been walking around quietly now.  But I think someone's been following me.  I hear their steps.  Right now I hear their steps.
I don't know why I was excited for this.  I mean, I was ecstatic for it, really I was.  But when it started I... felt something was wrong.
This wasn't right.
But what did I have to lose?
I'm trying to run now, but my writing is getting messy,
OH-

Their eyes were battling each other, the rage sent waves around the empty room,
with nothing in it except packed boxes.
He came home when she wasn't finished packing.
When she wasn't finished saying goodbye.
And he stared at her with anger flowing through his veins, "You've had enough time.  Get out.  Now." 
He flicked his white cuffed wrist to the elevator door, venom dripping from his mouth
like a savage dog.
And she stared at him with disdain, tears flowing freely as her mumbled words made her sound as worthless as she felt. "I'm not ready yet."
This time he began shouting, feeling his heart welting with the frustration that filled his heart
every day
for the past
few
weeks.
"I don't want to see you, Anna!  Get the fuck out, now!"  He stepped closer to her now, taking in the deep brown hair.  Instead of it being neatly pinned back, it was now wavy and full of frizz.  Her once full eyes were empty and heartless.  He felt heartless too.
She gripped the edge of one of the boxes, sputtering, "Please, I can't go yet.  How do you know--"
He gripped her arm, dragging her to the elevator door.  And with the press of the button, the elevator slowly drifted up to the suite.
She cried out, falling against him.  Feeling deflated. 
And he held this woman.
The woman who he felt in love with for the past seven years.
The woman who showed him the world.
Who showed him love.
True.
Love.
He held this woman, feeling her embrace one last time, before she would drift off like the ocean.  Being free.  Truly free.
She looked up at him, her hollow green eyes meeting his with heartbreak.
And he brushed his fingers down her face so gently,
she could've mistaken it for rain.
And then he tugged his finger against her lip, ever so slightly.
"But," her voice was hoarse, "How do you know when it's love?" 
His eyes widened, with reality.
What was love?
Was this terror of a relationship not real?
A facade?
Her pleading eyes bore into his.
But his anger still boiled.
Her rage was still inflamed.
As so when the elevator dinged, he moved Anna into the metal box.  And left before she could watch him as the doors shut.
And he poured himself a glass of whiskey.
And took it as a shot.
And as he curled up in bed
his face was burning hot
from the tears that stained his cheeks
and the pain from the weeks
he was now being torn
from what she said
about the confusion
how love felt dead
and when he woke
he had some gin
mumbling what she spoke
the chance of sleep was slim
each day carried out
little shut eye
many tears
one day
he couldn't try
so he took some pills
and lay his head
after downing some whiskey
his limbs like lead
and he wrote
I quote
"My dearest Anna,
love
is a fanatical word
because people have assumed
that it can sum up a mess
of emotions
but
do not use it in vain
do not
utter it
with uncertainty
I love you
and when I say love
I mean
you make my heart stop
when you look at me
even if you don't
it feels as though I'll vomit
and my shakiness is terrible
and won't stop for hours
even when
you're long
gone.
And I love you
because
when your name is said
my stomach
it flutters
but the problem is
I love you
to the point
where
it
physically
hurts
when I'm not around you
and when you see me
but don't speak to me
I'm getting torn a part inside
and I pray you don't see my corpse
lifeless
loveless
but
I need you to see this
because I was
angry
I still am
but it wasn't with you
it was with my pain capacity
I was broken
I am broken
and I
can't
be
fixed
because
I'll just crumble again
and Oh, Anna
dream well
live well
live free
of strain
and sadness
and anger
and restlessness
watch the ocean
I see it in your eyes
watch the ocean.
With more emotion than you could possibly comprehend,
yours,
but not yours,
Evan James Parker."

Fat.

She sat in the back of the room like every day.
She hung her head to her lap,  avoiding the people sitting around her
like
a
swarm
of
bugs.
She never spoke to them unless for group work
in which she was never chosen.
But on this day
when she was sitting
as she always did
away from view,
a boy spoke to someone else
quite blatantly.
This girl whom he spoke to
was the size of a chopstick.
But her height was that
of a paperclip.
The girl who sat in the far back spot
was very insecure.
She had a lot of muscle
which made her quite dense.
She wasn't large by any means
but her weight was much different than people guessed
because she was one-thirty-four.
And she was five-foot-six-and-a-half feet tall.
She usually wore heeled boots.
This made her roughly five-foot-nine.
For someone at that height, was healthy.
Her muscle
was
healthy.
But this boy spoke to the tiny girl
"Ew, you're one-hundred-and-thirty pounds? That's f***ing disgusting you fat a**."
"Oh my god you're so fat."
"Fat."
"Fat."
"Fat."
This tiny girl was laughing
knowing it wasn't true
but the girl who sat in the back
was hiding her tears
because she weighed more than that
she was fat
fat
fat
fat.
She felt embarrassed.
So much so
that when she got to her next class, she couldn't stop staring at the girl who had taken up modelling.
She was the girl's height.
But she was thin.
So much so
that it made the girl who sat in the same spot everyday
upset.
She wanted to be as thin as her.
Have no flab on her arms
Be able to wear t-shirts freely
Be pretty
Beautiful
even.
"You're eyes are so pretty."
People say to her.
"I love your hair."
People say to her.
"Oh wow, you have runner's legs."
People say to her.
What they don't say
is if she's skinny.
They don't say fat.
They don't say skinny.
She just
is.
And the girl in the back was torn a part
from hearing indirectly how fat she was.
And she's tearing herself up
everyday
because of these things she hears.