[ Trigger Warning: Discussion of Hunger Games-style violence ] I suppose it was too much to hope for that we'd find a world without terrorists. They don't exist, do they? Even children's stories are riddled with evil people doing unspeakable things. I had hoped to shield the baby from anything on the
outside, but not only is it impossible but it's probably not advisable, is it?
I had more of a childhood than most in Panem. We were well-off, we believed that being Reaped for the Games was an honor. Serving our country and making our district proud was pressed into our heads; I remember reciting the names of past Victors in school when I could barely manage the alphabet. I was of course a Career - which means I trained for the Games on the off-chance that I would one day be picked. Although I'm not proud of it now, my training likely saved my life. I was fourteen when I was chosen for the death ring. I felt very grown up then - and had to be, honestly, due to the angle my stylist had chosen for me - but I didn't know a goddamn thing. Not a thing at all.
I grew up and out of my delusions, but I wonder sometimes about the men who follow terrorists like the Mandarin. What happened to them that they see something right in what they choose to believe? We all have something we would die for; what makes
him that something?
I'm not saying that they're good people or that they deserve empathy. I didn't deserve empathy when I learned where to cut on a man's throat to have him bleed out the fastest. But I do think they deserve a-- a pause. Because we could all be those men under the right circumstances with the right influences, forced or insidious. I truly believe that.
There's nothing to lose in questioning what's above you. Always. Even if you believe what you follow is just.
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