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?
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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.

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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.
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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.
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Journal entry 212

I got a letter today.
From father's partner.
Dad isn't coming home.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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Journal entry 220

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

Things to Remember; Emily

I did not make this list, and I don't know who did, but I take no credit for it and I am simply posting it because I have fallen in love with all of these words.  

• Quiescent - a quiet, soft-spoken soul.
• Chimerical - merely imaginary; fanciful. 
• Susurrus - a whispering or rustling sound. 
• Raconteur - one who excels in story-telling. 
• Clinquant - glittering; tinsel-like. 
• Aubade - a song greeting the dawn. 
• Ephemeral - lasting a very short time. 
• Sempiternal - everlasting; eternal. 
• Euphonious - pleasing; sweet in sound. 
• Billet-doux - a love letter. 
• Redamancy - act of loving in return.

An Undead Tale

Panic struck me as I rolled over, pulled the safety off my hand gun and was deafened suddenly by the three quick shots I released.

The body dropped on top of me, the hundred-and-eighty-something pound man pinning me to the ground.  His rotten smell enveloped my nose causing me to gag.  But I knew I had to hold it down, otherwise I'd suffocate in my own stomach waste.  

I shimmied my left hand into the inner side of my pant waist, tugging out a worn dagger and stabbing the man's gut to push him off.  

With great strain his body slowly slumped to the side, allowing me to turn over and hurl. 

What little that was in my stomach was now under me, and my body felt exhausted. 

That was the second close-call in the past day that almost sent me to my own immortal death. 

"Fuck!"  I spat, punching the cement beneath me, "Fucking fuck!"

I gasped and sat on my heels, looking up at the setting sun.  There was a stale taste in my mouth, and I didn't want to waste the water I had to rinse it out, so I pulled out a cigarette instead while adjusting myself to be able to see my ankle.  Or in other words, the ankle that the man had grabbed. 

Relief filled me as I realized he hadn't broken my skin with his filthy nails that were filled with this disease. 

I remember sitting at home with my brother when we were younger saying how the world needed something to purge people.  I know that's awful, honest I do, but we were young and heard all about over population issues and all of these terrorist threats.
When the virus hit the news, it seemed like a blessing.
But it wasn't.
It wasn't a blessing because it wasn't natural.
A blessing is something from the natural world that brings a person luck or sense of calm.
This was neither.

I pushed myself up, setting into a steady jog across this street.  All the doors of the large houses were bolted down with wooden planks, metal poles and simple cardboard.   As the sun kept setting, my panic was returning.

I remember when it was the sixth night when the disease started, we weren't too scared because media hyped things up, we knew that.  We knew that.  But when I was in bed, the front door started banging.  Really, really aggressively.  It woke my fifteen-year-old self, as well as my older brother.  Mum and dad were already up, they were always arguing and for the past few days they were arguing about whether to stay at home or visit our grandparents.  But I was really scared. Adrenaline hit me, see?  And my heart was racing.  My brother's room was right next to mine, and I rushed into his room full of fear, to see that he was in his clothes, a backpack on his back and his sword on his waist.  He got that sword for his ninth birthday.  He loved Japanese culture, so a family friend got him an antique katana.  He looked at me when I walked in and asked if I was okay.  I hugged him.
Dad when to check the door.
That was the first mistake.
That was the first damned mistake.
The thing lunged at him.
It didn't bit him anywhere.
It tore him a part.
Drove its hands into his chest with its nails.  Mum ran down to help him, but they travel in packs.  They're smart.  They're very smart.
My brother and I stayed in his room.

My breath was coming quicker, I was running faster.  The sun was almost gone.  I finally saw the lighthouse.  Thank fuck.

But like I said, they're smart.  This disease... I know people would call them zombies.  I know people get angry when shows call them 'walkers' or 'undead' but I can't use the term zombie.  The disease is a strain of rabies and tumour cells.  The people who made it thought the two could cancel out one another.  But it made a mecha-virus.   A terrifying virus.  The cancer cells multiplied muscle cells and tissue as well as rapid brain cell growth.  It protected their minds while giving increased strength and longer limbs.  Then the rabies... it made them crazed.  Rapid movement,  sharper teeth and longer nails.  It shut down the analytical mind and amplified the murderous, kill-or-be-killed.  Then once they began eating flesh like cannibals, it warped their sense of sanity to the extreme, just like how cannibals are affected.

As I reached the water to the lighthouse I dove in without hesitation, swimming to the little island.  And by the time I made it to the door, the sky was purple.

My brother was always into dressing up as a superhero- spiderman, batman-- even as a Jedi master.  He had his sword ready as I quivered behind him, we both were watching the door.
We heard and saw the door shaking.  I felt tears forming.  He was sturdy.  Finally, the doorknob began turning.  Really slowly.  I thought about how in movies they did this to create suspense, but it was the killer toying with the prey.  The door shot open and the thing jumped at my brother.  I remember screaming as he swung his sword against the man's head.  It was rusty, but it cracked his skull and he dropped.  My brother was heaving.  More were coming through the door and he was slicing them.  When there was a break he shoved me, his backpack and something I didn't see under his bed, and he pushed several dead bodies over the bottom so I couldn't be seen or smelled.  And I was trying not to cry.  I was confused as to why he wasn't hiding with me.  But I waited under the bed for days.  Waited for him to get me.  Waited for me to stop being afraid.  But finally, I pushed out from under the bed, and stood up.
My legs were sore, as well as me back.  I tucked the little package he left into the bag and looked around and grabbed what I could.  I also checked around the entire house for useful items.  By the time I got to the front door, I noticed that mum and dad were tucked on the couch, looking like they were asleep, and the front door closed.  I sighed and opened it while saying goodbye to mum and dad.
I threw my shoulder against the door, falling into the lighthouse.  Up, up, up I went.  Finding my little sleeping ground by the rotating light.  I sat on my sleeping bag, looking through my backpack.  At the bottom was the little package my brother left me.  
I added another day to my journal.
It had been Seven Hundred and Eighty-Two Days.
Just over two years.
I sighed and pulled out the package.  He would be Twenty today.
I opened the package for the second time and reread the note inside of it.

Keep going, Isabelle, I'm out there.  I love you.  I'll find you by grandma's as soon as possible.  When you get there, wait for me.  I'll be waiting for you too.  But you need to get to -----

I dropped the package in water before I read it.  But I'll get there.  The sentence after talks about me meeting someone.  Someone by town hall.  The lighthouse is a thirty minute walk to town hall, and I sit there all day, and come back here to sleep.  I've been doing it for two years.

I heard the Lighthouse door open, fear slicing through my skull.  I grabbed the knife and huddled against the wall, waiting. 

Calling

I thought I would try to write you a poem

because I could never explain how I felt

but my throat always tightens from sadness

at the cards that I’ve been dealt. 

So I can’t tell you that my knees feel like they’ll give

or that my face is burning away

just because you acknowledge me

and leave me with nothing to say. 

So I thought that I could try

to bring these to words

but I’m falling

but I’m falling

but I’m falling.

Your simple smile towards me

makes my heart jump into my throat

making my mind explode in euphoria

and escape from my emotional boat.

I get so shaky that I can’t tell if I’m cold

or if it’s just from passing you

and I think so quickly that I can’t see

I can’t see if the sky is blue.

So I need to feel your soul

I need you to hear

that I’m calling

that I’m calling

that I’m calling

you

The Sea

I think I was swimming in an ocean of dreams

When my vision began to ebb

and the stars I was so used to seeing

Decided they wanted to go to bed

I didn’t think too much of it at first

because Jupiter began to shine so bright

and as I let my heavy head fall into the sea

My heart lifted to see it was sunlight.

The Little Mud in Life

When she was young, she tied her hair up away from her face.
His hair was trimmed but messy as he ran through the field with his friends.
She carried a colouring book to the swings, laughing with her older sister.
As she tried matching the blue sky to her picture, her sister pushed her gently.
He was slipping in the mud and yelling at his mates, screaming with joy.
But he slipped too close to the swings, and kicked up some mud onto her.
Her white stocking were wrecked, and the picture she worked on wasn't able to be seen.
Her sister started yelling,
He tried to apologize,
She didn't say anything,
and then the bell rang.
All the students scurried inside, trying not to be late.
But the boy stayed behind to try to wipe the mud off the swing.
The girl wasn't angry, just embarrassed that she was so dirty.
She was sent to the washroom to clean up, but on her way she saw through the window that the boy was using his water bottle to clear the mud from the swings.
She blinked a few times before walking into the bathroom.  She opened the closet full of cleaning supplies and grabbed the bucket and sponge.
She filled it up with soap and some water, but when she got to the swings there was no sight of him.
When she was about to turn away, she heard a slapping noise behind her.  To her feet were a pair of mucky black running shoes.  Her confusion was short, because after she saw them, she looked up.  At the top of the swing set was the boy, and in his hand was one of his socks as he was scrubbing the post.
She called for him to come down, but he resisted.
Finally, she soaked the sponge and threw it at him.  A squishy splat echoed in the air, and a large, oval, damp shape cloaked his navy t-shirt.
He was stunned for a moment, and both the boy and girl watched the sponge squish back onto the gravel.
He hopped down, and asked her what she was doing out of class.
She didn't speak, but pulled falling strands away from her eyes.  She reached down for the sponge and began cleaning his runners.
They didn't speak for a while, but cleaned the mess around them.
He put on his shoes bare-footed as she tried getting the mud out of her stockings.
And when they walked into the school again, they went into their own classrooms.
They didn't see each other again, for he played soccer when he was older while she drew.
But when they passed each other, he thought of her ruined stockings while she thought of his shoes.
And they went their ways.

Amen.

It seems like humanity is lost.
That's heard pretty often from people, yeah?
But every once in a while something will happen that will make your heart feel like a bit of gold is shining on it.
Like there's so many good people out there.

A year or so ago, I wasn't feeling great.  None of my friends were at school that day, I felt alone, depressed and hopeless. It was cold outside, and air helps calm my mind, so I decided I'd go outside in the cold to cry, since no one would be out there.
I was contemplating ditching out the rest of the day, just go home.  Don't even grab my bag, just go.  That's what I was thinking.  And I was going to.
I don't necessarily believe in a god.  I'm spiritual.  And before you glare at your computer screen, whip out the holy water and spray this technology while verbalising the Holy Bible and chanting what a sinner I am, hold up.  Just, fucking stop for a second.
When I was in such a state of despair, I kid you not, a shadow fell across my feet.
Empty field.
Empty courtyard.
Just me.
And as I looked up, clearly upset, I see a dark figure with the sun beams wrapping its edges so clearly she looked like an unearthly being.
I tried to stop crying.
I feel embarrassed crying in front of people.
But this girl, as she bent towards me, sitting down next to me, didn't speak.
I knew her vaguely, she was a yer ahead of me and in my drama class.  I also knew her sister, and I knew that both of them moved from Nigeria a year prior- for her sister and I got along in the classes we had together.  I didn't know either of them though.  But these girls... I can honestly say I've never met two purely whole people that cared so deeply about others.  I consider myself a caring person, but to plants, animals and a few people who I feel deserve it.  This is why I always carry change when I take the train, so if someone needs some, I can say yes.
I'll call this girl Renee.  Yeah... that's pretty, like her soul.  She didn't say anything, but turned her head to me and asked quietly, "Is it okay if I pray?"
I'm not against religion.  I love it.  I love hearing about it.
I loved that she asked this. I nodded and tried to smile.  She bowed her head, her black hair covering her face, and I can hear what she's saying.
"Dear God, I am praying to you for this beautiful heart, for she is feeling ill right now.  And I'm going to tell you why she deserves to feel better.  She deserves to feel better because she has had the sorrow for more than any person should feel.  I know this may be needed of her, but please, please take the pain away for a bit.  Please let her feel healed for a long while before she has to face what is hurting her so.  If you've truly seen her as everyone has, you'd see how she needs a break.  Just a break.  Amen."
And she sat with me for a bit, before she tugged at her scarf and put her hand on my shoulder.
"Emily, please know that you'll be in my prayers."
And she left.
I think that's one of the last times I saw her.
But my gosh, that is one of my most treasured moments.
So when you see a homeless man or woman on the street, and they're asking for change- or they're not- either way, maybe give them what you have, no matter what they use it to buy, just giving them something can make them feel that same glow, that same love and thanks.
It's an idea.
But maybe,
humanity isn't as lost as we think it is.
Maybe we're just looking in the wrong places.