I Want to be Free
I love my family, I truly do. I adore my little sister Prim and would do anything for her. My father was my hero and my protector who would do anything for me. My mother I like well enough, I used to love her until she broke down on me and Prim after father died. We had never had a lot of money but we had each other and to use that was all that mattered. Laughter rang throughout our small Seam home at the end of the day when my father would come home from the mines, never to tired for me, my sister or my mother. He was the heart and soul of the family, the provider. He would always tell me that he loved taking care of us because that was his job, to take care of his family and he was thankful he had one to take care of. If he had ever regreted anything in his life he never let any of us know, he would come home after work wearing a smile, happy to be with us. He would always tell me that I could be anything I wanted, when I was young I told him I wanted to be a Mockingjay. He would laugh, say he believed in me and told me I already had the voice, but I just wanted to fly.
Until the mines accident, just like that I lost him, we lost him, we might as well have lost my mother too because she couldn't go on living without him. She became a shell of her former self and I hated her for it. Not moving, not speaking, leaving me and Prim to fend for ourselves. I had spent countless nights outside our house that was no longer a home screaming at the sky "How could you!" I would yell into the nothingness "How could you leave?" I never got an answer, I'm not even sure who I was yelling at, no one could hear me and I don't even know if I wanted anyone too. Hatred coursed through me as it never had, hatred at the Capitol, peacekeepers, towns people, and coalminers alike. I hated my mother who would stare at nothing all day long, my sister who tried to hide tears caused by hunger, making me feel like a failure, but most of all I hated my father, for leaving me when I needed him, making me the family's provider and just being gone.
I hunted as he taught me, bringing food from the woods to feed my family. I met my best friend who had become my new protector as I become his. I was surviving, not as well as he did but I managed to make ends meet. I was carrying the remnants of a family on my shoulders, my mother and my sister did what they could, but it was mainly on mine. I will often lay out in the meadows and stare at the sky, wondering who I could have been in another life. A life where my father didn't die, my mother wasn't depressed, and the weight of the world wasn't on my shoulders. My anger at my father has long since vanished, but resentment remains as I suspect it always will. Resentment over a lost childhood that he so wanted for me to have that was taken away when he was.
Yes, I love my family, or rather I loved what it was, a mother and father with two children who they adored. When I was very young I dreamed of that life for myself, I would find a husband, marry him, have children and be happy. I no longer want that life, I don't want to become my mother trapped by long dead love, I wish for the impossible in this cruel world. I wish for safety from harm, to escape into the woods with my best friend and take him up on his never ending offers to run away. I wish that I was not needed as I am to take care of others and spend time doing nothing of any importance. I want to become one with the woods and look forward to living each day. But most of all I wish for my childhood dream, to become a Mockingjay, to fly away.
I want to be free.