Panem High (ON HOLD)

Chapter 19

Johanna's POV

    Well, today has been a roller coaster, I think as I sit alone in the living room. Cato and Glimmer broke up because Cato was in love with Clove, then Cato and Clove got together because she was in love with him too. Then Marvel asked Glimmer out, and she said if he gave her one month, she would be over Cato enough to start dating, and she would love it if he was the first guys she dated after the break up, blah, blah, blah.

   To me, romance is crap, and true love doesn't really exist. To most people, "true love" is being swept off of your feet by your "soulmate" or the "love of your life", and it's "the happiest feeling in the world". But that's not how it works in the real world, and people who think true love exists are either blind or ignorant. I know that the feeling of thinking you're in love feels like you're on Cloud 9 or whatever, but you have to be prepared for what happens when you fall off of the cloud. It's not pretty, and most people aren't prepared for the fall, but it's one hard fall.

   It happened to my parents, and it happened to me freshman year. But Id rather not remember freshman year. But my parents...well, it happened officially when I was 13. They were high school sweethearts, and crowned their senior class prom king and queen. After they won, they went and celebrated, if you know what I mean. 2 weeks later, they found out I was on the way, and it kind of turned their worlds upside down in one of the worst ways. Even though I wasn't supposed to come so soon, I know that I wasn't really a mistake, because both of my parents loved me very much. Mom still does, but I don't even if that's true about my douchebag of a dad. Anyway, they had both been accepted to some college in Area 8, but they couldn't afford the tuition for 2 people, plus support a baby. I suppose they could've asked their parents for help, but that would've been a little hard, since their parents stopped talking to them as soon as they found out about the pregnancy. They lived in a small town where teenage pregnancy was deeply frowned upon, and in extreme cases, shamed, which is what happened to my parents. So, naturally, I have never met my paternal or maternal grandparents.

   They still ended up moving to Area 8, but lived with some friends. My mom got a job as a maid, and my dad took any decent job he could get, sometimes working 3 at a time. They eventually saved enough money for my dad to take night classes at a cheap college. 9 months later I was born, and they had enough money to move out of their friends' house and to a crappy, one bedroom apartment in Area 10. We lived there in a bad neighborhood until I was 2, then my dad got a well paying job in Area 1, so we moved there. They then had a proper wedding, since they couldn't afford it for the past 2 years and 9 months. My childhood was great. My dad would always be home for dinner, and while I was at school, my mom would take classes at a community college, so she could get a job too. We would spend every Sunday together.

   It wasn't until I was 11, and in 6th grade that things started going downhill. I woke up one night to my parents screaming at each other. There was the sound of breaking glass, then my dad storming out and slamming the door behind him, and my mom sobbing. I knew that my life was about to change.

   My dad starting going out at night, staying out longer and longer, almost always missing dinner. He claimed it was "work stuff" but even at 11 and 12 I knew that "work stuff" meant going out to the bar with friends and getting drunk out of his mind. My mom tried to stay strong for me; she tried to act like everything was normal, but there were so many nights where I would get up to go to the bathroom, or get water, and I would see her in their room holding her wedding ring in hand and just silently crying. It's the worst thing in the world, watching your mom cry, and knowing that there is nothing you can do to help, because you're just a kid, and what's happening is so much bigger than saying sorry and continuing on with life.

   I was forced to grow up at a young age, and I built walls around myself. I had seen what "love" does to people. I had seen what it did to my parents. They cared so much for each other, then so called love screwed them over. Love is shit. That's what it is. Crappy shit.