Post by NOAH SCOTT BRONZE on Jun 18, 2012 14:54:09 GMT -5
Noah cursed at himself as he crumpled up the parchment paper and threw it in the large pile with the others identicle to it. He couldn't find the right words to say, or make his letters look right. It was driving him mad! He slid another paper over and started again.
Dear Saran, I'm not sure you know me at all, or have even heard of me. I'm Noah Bronze, a past victor from the 90th Hunger Games. [/b]
He stopped, breathing heavily. First line down. It sounded too hard and straight forward. Awkward. The more he looked at it, the more convinced her was of just leaving it there. He continued.
I'm writing you today as a favor to the Gamemakers. They have requested we all have a "pen pal" to write, to connect with. [/b]
What a terrible lie! It had been so sudden, the thought of creating a fake story. If it would get her talking, then he would do it though.
The thing is, we aren't supposed to let the other victors know of the pen pal until we meet up in the future. Then we can connect more. [/b]
The lies were slipping from his brain now faster than rain off a steep hill.
So, I'm not very good at this whole letter thing. Not at all. So how about we get to know each other? Maybe some questions? I'll write you some, you answer along with some of your own questions? Any family? Pets? Friends? Lovers?... [/b]
The dots trailing off on the paper were too apparent. Why had he been so fast to ask that? Was he really that desperate to know of such things? He ran his hands through his tangled mess of hair and sighed. He urged himself to continue.
So, I hope to hear from you soon. the post might take a while, but write back soon.
Your pen pal,
Noah[/b]
Noah sealed the letter up fast so that he wouldn't be tempted to start over. Was his last line to desperate? Would she be able to read his nervous scribble enough to reply? He could only hope not. He signed the envelope with the adress of his house and just her name. He knew that since they were both victors, their mail would be allowed to be sent, even though there wasn't allowed any contact between disctricts.
He raced out the door of hs victor house and to the city hall. He pushed in and to the front desk of a short, stubby, balding man with a nasaly voice and shoved it into his working hands. " Please send this right away. to the victor Saran in district 12. Please." he said, out of breathe and heart racing. The little man just grunted and put it in the postal bag. Another man picked up the bag and went through the back door.
Noah ran out the front door and around the building to see the man board a tiny capital train and start off. He hoped he had made the right decision in sending her his letter...
Dear Saran, I'm not sure you know me at all, or have even heard of me. I'm Noah Bronze, a past victor from the 90th Hunger Games. [/b]
He stopped, breathing heavily. First line down. It sounded too hard and straight forward. Awkward. The more he looked at it, the more convinced her was of just leaving it there. He continued.
I'm writing you today as a favor to the Gamemakers. They have requested we all have a "pen pal" to write, to connect with. [/b]
What a terrible lie! It had been so sudden, the thought of creating a fake story. If it would get her talking, then he would do it though.
The thing is, we aren't supposed to let the other victors know of the pen pal until we meet up in the future. Then we can connect more. [/b]
The lies were slipping from his brain now faster than rain off a steep hill.
So, I'm not very good at this whole letter thing. Not at all. So how about we get to know each other? Maybe some questions? I'll write you some, you answer along with some of your own questions? Any family? Pets? Friends? Lovers?... [/b]
The dots trailing off on the paper were too apparent. Why had he been so fast to ask that? Was he really that desperate to know of such things? He ran his hands through his tangled mess of hair and sighed. He urged himself to continue.
So, I hope to hear from you soon. the post might take a while, but write back soon.
Your pen pal,
Noah[/b]
Noah sealed the letter up fast so that he wouldn't be tempted to start over. Was his last line to desperate? Would she be able to read his nervous scribble enough to reply? He could only hope not. He signed the envelope with the adress of his house and just her name. He knew that since they were both victors, their mail would be allowed to be sent, even though there wasn't allowed any contact between disctricts.
He raced out the door of hs victor house and to the city hall. He pushed in and to the front desk of a short, stubby, balding man with a nasaly voice and shoved it into his working hands. " Please send this right away. to the victor Saran in district 12. Please." he said, out of breathe and heart racing. The little man just grunted and put it in the postal bag. Another man picked up the bag and went through the back door.
Noah ran out the front door and around the building to see the man board a tiny capital train and start off. He hoped he had made the right decision in sending her his letter...
