Unfortunately, I don't own the hunger games… BUT I DO OWN A GANDALF STAFF.
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Sometimes, I wish things were different. Sometimes, I wish that I had run off with Gale the day of the reaping, before I became a victor, before I became the mockingjay, before I became a broken, used- up doll. That's what I am, right? Something to dress up and manipulate and control. But other times, I wish I had shot him when I had the chance. But most of the time, I just want my best friend back, but then I have to remind myself that he's not my friend anymore. That he's a murderer, a monster.
A monster with smoky grey eyes that could use your eyes like doors and penetrate you very being. A monster with rough, scarred hands that could create intricate snares to entrap prey, but could just as easily entrap me?
I'm a fool. A broken, scarred, cowardly fool. Why wasn't I brave enough to face the facts? That even though Gale had had a part to play in prims death, after all this time, I still had feelings for him. Sometimes, the memories of him hit me with the force of the storm which he was named for and I couldn't take it. I couldn't face Peeta, who has been so good to me even though I didn't deserve him.
Those times are hard. Sometimes, I feel like gossamer, still hanging on, but knowing that someday, the wind will win and I will blow away. Other times, I feel like a rock. Solid. Planted firmly on the ground.
But most of the time, I feel like happiness is just out of reach. Like a dog chasing its tail. A morbid and cruel game. Sometimes, I can taste it. All chili, ginger and sugar. Fiery and sweet. Other times, its just not there. Vanished into thin air.
At one point, I cant take it anymore. So I drown my sorrows in drink. But then I discover something unsettling:
sorrow can swim.