So, I heard all about the fuss of the Hunger Games. Bought the book. Read it in three hours. Could. Not. Put. It. Down.
Went to see the movie the day after. I can see why there is a big fuss. XD
The lyrics are from the English version of 'Bad Apple' by Cristina Vee.
Just so you know, I have nothing against Katniss. You can also find this on my Quizilla Account: NoirAlice
Maybe it's a dream; maybe nothing else is real
But it wouldn't mean a thing if I told you how I feel…
You pursed your lips, gazing at the dough that had been laid out by Mrs. Mellark earlier. It was almost ready, so long as you did your job right and kneaded the sticky dough correctly before rolling it into the required shape for baking.
With a sigh, you set yourself on the job, the only thing you could do as a girl from an impoverished family in District 12. Sure, growing up had been difficult. Yes, you had done your best to live through each day, each year, with a smile on your face and a stride in your step.
Suddenly from the back door he came, flour dusted all over his apron and tousled blonde hair. He offered you a kind, almost shy smile, which you reciprocated. This boy, Peeta Mellark, your best friend since you were kids at school.
And as you looked down at the dough and took it out of the bowl to knead it, your attention went to memories of yesteryear; of two children picking dandelions and playing tag. Of pinky swears, frosting cakes and sharing bread crusts. Yes, life wasn't so bad if you had Peeta.
But you knew you wouldn't have him for long.
Arranging the fresh bread loaves on the table across from you, you watched as he observed the outside world. A figure was approaching rapidly, just as she always did this time of day.
Your face fell as you watched him watch her, dark braid pronounced by pale skin. You watched his pinked cheeks; the ocean eyes gazed in silent awe as he held on to the warm loaf between his long fingers as she passed by the store window.
Fighting to bite your lower lip as a rebellion to this display, you kneaded the dough even harder than you had to. It wasn't as if the dough could feel pain. You gathered it was a proper substitute for the ignorant girl who had caught the love of the boy with the bread.
You could only hope that she would acknowledge him. Even though, you already had long before.
If I make another move, there'll be no more turning back
Because everything will change and it all will fade to black…