Post by Deleted on Aug 3, 2014 7:50:27 GMT -7
How do you document real life when real life's getting close to fiction each day?
Ambrosia couldn't stand being in the room anymore. Everything was too much for her--the colors, the fanciness of it all. She just wanted some peace and quiet without her escort talking her ear off. She had thrown on some shorts and a t-shirt provided by the Capitol and exited the room she was in. The red-haired girl didn't know where she was going to go, but it was a helluva lot better than the fancy room. She wished that her name was never called and that she would be back home in District 10. She just wanted to look at the stars and sit on the hay bales with her brother as she told tall tales that would make him question what reality really was. She was questioning was reality really was, and why these horrendous Games were part of anyone's life if all they did was ruin lives. Ambrosia had gotten in the elevator and went down into the lobby. It was late at night, and she sat down at one of the many tables they had.
An avox went over to Ambrosia. She knew that the speachless man wanted to know if she wanted anything, and she had shaken her head. "No, thank you," she had told him, and he left her to be alone. The lobby, still quiet fancy, was still fancy but had been different than the room. She had just sat down, and she was finally alone. The silent room was so foreign to her after all of the buzzing noise that filled the air since she had gotten here. It was nice, and though she knew it would probably be spoiled soon, she didn't care. All she wanted was some peace and quiet for those few minutes, and she would be thankful she got some. Ambrosia had looked at the television that was playing a previous year's games, and she watched it. She knew she probably shouldn't, but the harsh entertainment of Panem was something that she had grown used to watching over the years. And in a couple days, she would be watched by everyone in Panem.
WORD COUNT: 371