Every day I try. I try to be better than I am. Different than I am. I go to therapy, ask for help, and even when it all fails I keep trying. I don’t do it for myself, God knows I’ve done enough for myself, I do it for my son.

Will, my sweet Will. He never asked to have someone like me as a father. A drunk. A liar. A cheat. I hate myself for that. I hate who I’ve let myself become. He doesn’t deserve that, and I don’t deserve him.

Ever since his mother died, I… I changed. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever been through, watching her pass and knowing I can’t do anything about it. I couldn’t comprehend the thought of living a life without Amy, with her chocolate brown hair and a laugh that could light up a room. She was my rock, my solid ground when I thought I was falling. She made me a better person, even when I didn’t want to be. Amy… she loved Will so much, I wish he got a chance to know her. She died the day he was born… I guess I always see his birthday as her death day. Just another way I’ve hurt him.

After she passed I… started using alcohol as my coping mechanism. I know I shouldn’t, I know it only hurts myself and Will more, but I can’t help it. When I’m high, everything is so funny, I don’t feel this empty whole in my chest anymore, I feel free. And smart. And like nothing else matters anymore. But I also act out of my control, and I do things I wish I never would have done, especially to Will.

I jump as I hear a knock at the glass door. I guess I never expected him to actually come, and now that he’s here, everything’s suddenly become a lot more real. I set my almost empty beer bottle on the table and walk to open the door.

I immediately notice his his furrowed brow and set jaw. “Hey. I thought you might never show up.” I say casually, though Will could probably sense the nervousness in my shaky voice. “I wasn’t going to, until you mentioned the inheritance,” is all he speaks as he marches inside and slouches down onto the velvet couch, looking up at the expensive chandelier above. He doesn’t bother to glance my direction as he asks, “Look just tell me what’s going on?” I sigh. This is for the best, I tell myself. “I… talked with some lawyers.” I respond. At this news Will perks up, “…And?” I take a deep breath. “Look, we all think it’s for the best if we wait.” Silence. Deafening silence. I anxiously plead with him, “Come on, Will. Say something, please?” The look on his face is something no father should ever have to witness from his son. Pure hatred radiates off his scowl. “I can’t believe it.” He scoffs. I smooth my voice and try to make him understand as I say, “Will, we just think it’s better to wait til you’re 18 to receive the money, we just don’t know if you’re responsible…” “YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT RESPONSIBILITY!” he cuts off, standing up and slamming his fists on the finely detailed coffee table.

I knew he would be upset, but this shocks even me. How dare he speak to his own father like that?! I feel myself start to boil in rage, and the alchohal definitely isn’t helping. I attempt to stop my tongue, but the liquor is taking over me, seeping into my every thought. He should be grateful I’m even giving him this money in the first place!

Before I know it, I’m jumping to tower over him as I shout, “SIT DOWN! YOU ARE 16 AND KNOW NOTHING OF RESPONSIBILITY, YOU HEAR ME? NOTHING!” My emotions are losing control, running free. I violently flip the coffee table over, shattering the glass beer bottle.

I see Will’s eyes widen with fear, and he takes a tentative step back. But as quickly as the emotion came, it’s replaced with an annoyed eye roll. “I’m done with this,” he sneers, “I’m done putting up with your crap. You don’t even know the hell you’ve put me through my whole life. You probably don’t even remember though your drunkenness.” I blink, only then do I realize the full extent the alchohal caused, and I silently curse myself. “Do you remember these?” he asks as he rolles up his shirt just high enough to reveal multiple, serious bruises. “Or these?” He extends his arm to display jagged scars along his biceps. My clenched hands release, and my quick breathing slows to a steady rhythm. I’ve never hated myself more than right now. I know those scars. Each one carries a regret I wish I could forget. Will speaks silently but deadly, “You’ve made me suffer through your selfishness, the least you can do is give me the money, and let me leave this place.” His eyes plead with me, begging me to allow him this one thing.

But if I know one thing about money, it’s that it changes people. I’m not going to let my only son make the same mistake I did. “You need to trust me, okay? I know I’ve done wrong, and I regret it. I regret everything, and I know I’ve been the worst father to you. But I won’t let you leave on your own, with enough money to go anywhere in the world. It’s not safe! I’m not doing this because I’m selfish, but because I love you.”

His tear stained eyes finally look up to meet my gaze, but his face is filled with hate. His eyes glare into mine in a way I wish I never knew. After a long moment of silence, he finally speaks.

“If this is love, then I wish I never have to suffer through it again.”

He says nothing more as he closes the door behind him.

To all the Hunger Games lovers out there :)

Brilliant. It’s all brilliant. I dont care much about what other people say, the Hunger Games is a masterful idea. What better way to punish the districts for their deceitfulness and incompetence during this war? Today is a very special day. You see, today we will finally get to meet the mastermind behind this whole project, Casca Highbottom.

I rush down the hallway as soon as school ends and make my way towards the front of the building. There’s a stage set up in the center of the room, with Panem flags hung on many stands. Even the student’s families are gathered around, children eager to finally meet Casca.

One particular boy stands out to me. He couldn’t be more than 8 years of age, and has white-blonde hair. He seems very intrigued by the whole event, taking in every detail. As the rest of the children are running around him, I aproach the young boy.

“Hello son, what is your name?” I extend my hand to formally greet the small boy. “Snow. Coriolanus Snow,” he replies, shaking my hand in a gentlemen like manner. “Nice to meet you, my name is Sully Brown.” I can already tell Coriolanus acts much older than he is, not wanting to partake in the childhood nonsense going on around him. As soon as the lights start to dim, he ushers me to be quiet, for the show is about to begin.

“Welcome one and welcome all!” Casca enters excitedly, and the crowd goes wild. “Thank you all so much for having me at this wonderful academy, and thank you to your principle for his hard work to make this event happen!” More claps and cheers from the audience. “Now I’m sure you all are wondering why I am here…” The crowd turns into soft mumbles as they listen closely to his next words. “We all have witnessed the hardships caused from this war. And the only ones to blame for this monstrosity are the districts!” A few cheers from some men in the back… “Well, as most of you know, I have come up with a brilliant sollution to ensure that punishment and order will be upon the districts. I call it “The Hunger Games.”” At this, the crowd erupts into cheers, I even witness a few men in the front reach over the stage to try and shake Casca’s hand. Once the applause dies down to a soft chatter, Casca continues, “These games are not only meant to punish the districts, but also to bring honor to Panem! What better way can you respect your country than to fight the enemies against it! This is exactly why I am here today. I have chosen one of you to participate in these games to represent Panem, and the greatness our country holds!”

People all around me are shocked at this revelation. Who will it be? Whoever it is, they will surely become the most famous person in the school! I can’t believe someone from my school is actually going to be the first into these games and represent our whole country!

I’m so invested into Casca’s words that I almost forget Coriolanus at my side. He tugs on my jacket to whisper a question in my ear. “Do you want to do it?” he asks. I wasn’t quite sure as first. The games sound a little intense, but the more I think about it, the more I admire the idea. Sully Brown, the world’s first Hunger Games champion! And imagine the money I would win! I wouldn’t need to worry about a thing the rest of my life! And not only that, but the fame that could follow is unimaginable! The more I thought about it, the more clear my answer became… “Yes. Yes I would.”

Casca holds the mic close, ready to continue. “We have chosen who we believe is the best and most qualified choice. He has great academic grades, amazing extracurriculars, and holds the most spirit for all of Panem. The winner is…”

My heart is thundering now, waiting with anticipation… I hope it’s me. It should be me.

“Sullivan Ezra Brown.”

The crowd goes nuts. People I’ve never met in my life are congratulating me, patting me on the back, but I hear none of it. My mind goes silent, still trying to comprehend what just happened. I won! I did it! I’m going to be the one to bring honor to all of Panem!

The rest of the night is a blur. I went on stage to accept an award, and celebrated with a huge party at the end. But just before I left to return home, I ran into Coriolanus again.

“Hey there!” He exclaims, running up to me. “Oh hey Coriolanus, is everything all right?” “Yes, It’s just… I overheard my father speaking to Casca about the rules of the game. They’re going to allow you one non-lethal weapon into the arena, and… I want you to take this with you.” He proceeds to fumble through his pockets, and pulls out a small ring. It holds a black band with a large crimson, ruby in the center. What on earth is this? I stumble in my confusion, “Oh..um.. a ring. Look that’s really thoughtful, but if I’m going into a life or death situation, I should bring something more practical. Maybe a book on poisonous plants, or even sunblock. Why a ring? His voice held a serious tone, “Listen I can’t tell you here, there’s too many people watching. You’re just going to have to trust me, okay? If you run into any sort of danger, press the ruby gem in the center, It will help you out.” His pleading eyes met mine. “Please, you need to bring this, it could help you win the games.”

I should be practical about this. I need to bring what will be most useful to me. But what if this ring really does help me win? Can I take that risk?

After a moment of careful thought, I take the ring and shove it in my coat pocket. I’ll probably regret this later on…

As I leave I hear Casca’s voice call over the microphone one last time. “Congratulations again to our winner Sullivan! I think I speak for all of Panem when I say, may the odds be ever in your favor!”

Hope is a strange thing

One moment life is no better than death and the dark, no different than the light but as we struggle to take our last breath we see a glimpse of hope in our sight

Death is a strange thing

If we say we do not love than we are dead to our heart but if we die and rise to heaven above our death is now worlds apart

Love is a strange thing

We can hate with all our might But still love in secret For wherever there is light the flowers will find it

Life is a strange thing

We value it above all we own yet we’ll throw it away for love Our life will always continue to grow but when it ends, we’ll start a new one above

Mable was 7 years old when she died. Boys at school still tell the tale of how she passed to try and spook me, but I knew better to believe it. The story went like this…

There once was a girl named Mable, and she loved her grandfathers lake. He warned her never to go there alone without him, but one day, while he was gone fishing, she snuck out. She walked along the deck and hung her feet over the edge. She watched the dark water, and saw it bubbling. She heard a strange voice in her head, asking her for help.

“Hello girl, would you be able to help me?” It would ask. “Who are you?” She questioned. “I want to be your friend. I know you have a hard time making those these days don’t you sweety?”

All the kids at school made fun of her for her bright red hair and freckled face. But no matter what they said, she always chose not to believe them. She still longed for just one friend in her life…

“Ok, I want to be friends, but how can I help you?” “All I need is a single freckle, ” It asked. “But I like my freckles, my papa says they’re kisses from angels.” “I know honey, but see, even just one freckle would be enough to help me. You want to help me don’t you? You want a friend?” “…well, I guess one freckle won’t hurt.”

She took her grandfathers pocketknife she always carried, and scraped the edge of her shoulder until a flake of skin fell off. It sunk deep into the murky water, and the ghostly women thanked her.

But everyday when the girl returned, it would request another freckle. And another. And another, until one stormy day she slipped off the edge of the deck, and fell into the water. The thunder created massive waves, and the rain poured down against her. It was as if the whole world were against her in that moment. Poor girl was always to afraid to learn how to swim so she drowned. Folks say she still haunts this very lake to the day, waiting to get revenge on the supernatural woman.

I knew it was all dumb rumers, but I was still a little hesitant to go out to the lake this morning. My father told me to go and fish, and this has always been the best spot. Probably because there are so little people that dare to come out here.

I hung my feet over the edge of the water and casted my fishing rod. I swore I heard a crash of thunder, but the sky was nothing but a murky gray. it must’ve been my imagination, but I kept hearing it. Crash… Crash… Crash… A gust of cold wind peirced my back, and the rocks boardering the other side of the lake seemed to look like people in the foggy sky. No, not people. A young girls face. It was filled with agony and its eyes bore into mine, pleading for help. It took all my might to tear my eyes away. It’s my imagination. Crash. Just imagination. Crash.

I heard footsteps behind me. Definitely not my imagination this time. I spun around to see a small girl standing behind me, fog surrounding her frizzy red hair, and skinny body. My nostrils inhaled her stench and, though her appearance frightened me, it felt impossible to look away.

Her eye sockets were sunken in, her eyeballs big and filled with hate. Her body looked starved, and I could see the outline of her small ribs poking through her ripped t-shirt.

But worst of all was her skin. It was covered in scars of carved out freckles. From head to toe, her skin was blistered and colored an ugly shade of crimson. Her limbs stretched out to mine, trying to grasp my body. Heart racing, I jumped back, not aware of the edge of the dock. I slipped and fell into the water. I could feel a force pulling me down, down, down. I gasped for air as the ice cold water penetrated my thin jacket, surounding my skin and flooding my senses. The last thing I heard before I went under was the sound of Mable’s pericing cry. Then I sunk.

I started throwing clothes into my duffle bag, holding back tears soon to come. He grabbed my arm with a jerk, forcing me to meet his forrest green eyes. I always hated those eyes. I hated how every time I looked into them it was like nothing else in the world mattered except us two. They always reminded me of a beautiful forrest, and now I’ll never be able to look at nature the same way. “What are you doing?” Jack asked. It was more of a demand than a question. “I’m packing.” “I can see that. What are you doing?” I didn’t have the heart to answer. How can you tell someone you have loved your whole life that you can’t be with them? I saw the realization hit his face as he said, “I can’t believe it. After all that’s happened, you‘re just leaving again. Were you even going to tell me at all?” His voice was filled with more hurt than anger. “You know why I have to leave. It’s for your own protection, Jack. If the King finds us together he’ll kill me, and do even worse to you!” I wanted him to understand. Wanted him to realize that Aristocrats and King’s sons don’t get to live a happily ever after. “I don’t care what my father says, I’ll make sure nothing like that ever happens to you Haze! We can run away together. Live a life out in the country, away from this hellish place!” “But if your father finds us he could kill you!” “Not being with you kills me more. I don’t care the risks. I just…” His eyes spoke more than words, pleading with me to stay. I still couldn’t believe this was once the annoying boy who would sneak out at night with me to play by the river. I never knew how he did it, but he told me he tricked the guards at the palace by stuffing pillows under his sheets to look like him. He said he even recorded the sound of his brother snoaring to make it more “realistic.” But the truth is that we’re not the same kids we once were. He’s going to be king, and I’m the enemy assigned to kill. No matter how much I want to say nothing matters, and we can run away together, live a life on our own, I know that’s not true. Even if all I want is for him to wrap his arms around me again, and tell me everything’s ok, I know it’s not. I know what I have to do. Even if it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done before. I took his hands and looked into those dark green eyes once last time. Memorizing the small flecks of gold scattered around it. “Goodbye Jack.” I let go of his hands as our fingers slowly brushed off. I walked away and told myself I wouldn’t look back, but my body refused to listen. One last glance at him forced the small sob I was holding back to break free. His face was unreadable. I could see a mix of confusion, anger, sadness, pleading. But above all was hurt. I told myself I would never let anything hurt this boy, and yet here I am. Hurting the one thing I’ve ever learned to love.

The spell broke, and just like that, she could see everything with fresh eyes. She could see her hands, with blood dripping down. She could feel the wind blowing against her ripped t-shirt. And she had never been happier in her life. No longer was she bound by the twisted spell which clouded her vision. She was free. Hazel turned to her left and saw Jack in the corner, coughing and spitting up blood over his jacket. It seems he had been fighting a Gorge right until she broke the magic and turned them to dust. As soon as he met her eyes it was like the world around them crumbled to nothing more than that of the disintegrating monsters. He tilted his head at her, questioning if she was free of the curse. She nodded through tear stained eyes. His face twisted into a bright smile as he raced towards her, arms open for an embrace. She practically jumped into them and sobbed at the feel of his touch. No longer was she numb to the feeling. She felt everything. She felt his breath against the back of her neck. The heat radiating through his blood stained shirt. She felt his strong arms as they held her tightly, a silent promise never to let her go. She felt his chest heave up and down through muffled sobs. After moments had passed, he slowly pulled her away just enough to see her eyes. His hands still shaky from adrenaline as he pushed her hair behind her ear to look at her, his dimples shining. “You did it Haze.” He pulled her into his chest again as she whispered against his ear, “I can feel you Grey. I can feel you, I never want this feeling to go away again.” “I know.” “Promise me? Promise me you won’t leave me.” “I promise. There is nothing left in this forsaken world that could pull me apart from you. I told you I would make sure we live long enough so you could see the stars… well, look up.” Hazel looked up and gasped at the infinite stars, dancing through the night sky. “Jack it’s… it’s more than I ever could have imagined.” She gasped through wide eyes. “And tomorrow, we can see them again, and again, and again for eternity. Hazel even when we die we can watch them through heavens eyes.” “Tomorrow. I like the sound of that.” “Tomorrow.” “Promise, Jack?” “I promise Hazel.”