|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jan 18, 2020 4:17:23 GMT -5
(This is a continuation of the previous post)
So I do the only thing I can do. When Louden comes back into the room later, a knowing smile plastered all over his face because I know he knows I saw him talking to Holly, I speak up. I know this could be fake, something Louden has done to try and make me break. But if it’s true, Holly is really coming and she’ll die before she gets in here. I can’t take chances like that, I can’t stake her life on Louden’s little games. That’s what he wants.
“Let’s make a deal,” I say, sitting up in the hospital bed
“Oh?” Louden smiles “it’s good to see you’ve come to your senses. And what deal would that be?”
“I will tell you everything you need to know, on one condition. I film a message to be broadcast throughout Panem, and you make damn sure Holly sees it. I won’t let her come here.”
“And if I say no?” Louden responds
“Then my lips stay sealed,” I shrug “and we’re both in for a long month or so where you torture me until I break. You could have what you want now, all you have to do is grant me that request.”
“And you are aware that once I have all the information I want from you, I’ll kill you? I don’t keep things I have no use for.”
“Perfectly aware,” I reply “but I don’t see things ending any differently no matter what I do.”
In reality, I have to do this to protect Holly. And besides, a video would give me an opportunity to say some stuff I want to say. Some things I need to say, because Macaria and Alessandro taught me a lot about how you need to make sure people know how you feel.
Louden agreed to my deal, but tells me I’m not allowed to say on camera that I’m going to tell Louden what I know; it’ll tip the rebels off. If I say anything like that, our deal is off and he won’t broadcast the message. Then he and a couple of guards take me to a room. Not the stage, a much smaller room. There’s a camera, and a chair. It’s the room Louden was speaking to Holly from earlier. He gestures for me to take a seat, and before I know it the camera is rolling.
“This is a message for Panem, and for my friends and family. I know you must be surprised to see my face, but I assure you that this isn’t a hologram or a prerecorded message. I’m alive. But I won’t be for long; I expect I’ll be dead by this time tomorrow. So this is a final goodbye.
To my parents and my sisters, I’m so sorry that I did this to you. I guess I always did have a way of biting off more than I could chew, huh?”
I chuckle bitterly at those words.
“I love you all, but I know you’ll be okay without me. The rebels, my friends, they’ll take care of you all. You’re just losing me one more time, that’s all. Maybe once I’m gone I won’t be able to bring you so much pain and worry anymore. It’ll be over. Just keep strong. And girls? Be good. Don’t join the rebels for my sake.”
I take a deep breath. I don’t have long.
“To the rebels and my fellow tributes, I know you can win this war. But it has to be without me. I’m sorry, I tried but I wasn’t good enough. I did everything right and this happened anyway. So take care of one another, protect one another. That’s the only way to survive. Stay together, and keep fighting for what you believe in.
“To the Districts, see how the Capitol has lied to you. The fact that I’m alive proves they don’t tell the truth. Those of you who aren’t fighting yet, I beg you to rise up. You see me and the other tributes, young people laying down our lives for a cause we believe in. And yeah, I’m scared to die. But I’m not scared to die for this. Neither should you be. Fight, because the Capitol are cruel. They take from the districts and give only pain in return.”
I may not be as sharp and scathing with my tongue as Holly or even Macaria can be, but I’m good with words. Good enough for this.
But perhaps not good enough for what I’m going to say next. My voice immediately catches in my throat.
“And finally,” I begin “I address Holly now. When I was captured, I could imagine you saying I told you so. You warned me this was not a good idea. And you were right, and I’m sorry. I let my own stupid prideful need to feel useful get in the way of clarity. I caused you and my family so much pain and hurt just because I wanted to do something bigger. But I’m still glad I did it, somehow. Because I am like you, I want to be heard. And I was never going to be heard back at the rebel base. I was just going to be useless and then probably end up getting killed anyway. At least I did something, at least I was heard. I left a mark.
“But that wasn’t what I wanted to say. I wanted to say I love you, because this would be a stupid time not to say it. I fell for you right from the reaping, because of course I had to be difficult and fall in love in the Hunger Games. I was an idiot not to say anything sooner, but we’re here now. Please don’t come to the Capitol, you know it’s a bad idea. Don’t get yourself killed for me, because my part in this is over. Yours is only just beginning and I’m not going to be the reason you don’t get to play it.”
|
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jan 18, 2020 20:08:09 GMT -5
It’s a week before Amadrya and Everest’s wedding, which means the base has been a flurry of activity lately as the last preparations are made. Macaria got incredibly invested in the wedding, and so far it’s mainly been Holly‘s job to rein her in and stop things getting crazy. Amadrya and Everest only want a small ceremony, but with Macaria in the bridal party things have been getting more elaborate. Luckily Holly can talk sense into Amadrya, who was very nearly convinced to include an ice sculpture by Macaria.
I’m sitting in my room, stitching. The seam has come away on the suit jacket I’m wearing for the wedding, so I’m working on fixing it. It’s the first time I’ve picked up a needle and thread since I sutured my wound in the Arena. I don’t let anyone look at that, not even my sisters or Holly. I didn’t have the proper suturing kit or anything when I did it, and it’s not like the job I did was exactly medical standard. Enough to keep me alive, but not enough to keep my thigh from looking a mess. It didn’t heal right. But sometimes I see one of the former career pack - especially Macaria - glancing there and remembering when the wound was made. And Holly, she looks a lot. Remembers when she was helping me tend to it. We all do the same - tiptoe around one another’s wounds, but are acutely aware of what we’ve all gone through. Clothes don’t always hide the scars lacing Everest, Amadrya or Holly’s bodies from their torture. The rest of us bear scars from the Arena, and I know Macaria hates seeing them on other people, especially if they’re ones she made. Some of Holly’s, for example.
Speaking of Holly, there’s a knock on my door. I know that knock and instantly know it’s her, and I don’t have to open the door or even say anything because the District 8 girl walks straight in, a notebook and pen in hand.
“I need your help with something.”
“...Okay,” I say hesitantly “what with?”
“Amadrya wants me to make a speech and I’m terrible at writing... sentimental wedding-type stuff.”
“You can’t ask Amadrya to choose someone else? Macaria would literally thrive off the attention of making a speech.”
“For the love of God, don’t encourage Macaria,” Holly warms “she was going to do the speech, but it ended up being very intense and Macaria-like. There was a segment where she juggled flaming knives and it’s just honestly best not to ask.”
I don’t ask - I am, in fact, in a stunned and confused silence as I try to process all this. Holly gets impatient.
“Hey, Acton, are you going to help me or not?”
I hold my hand up for a moment, to silence her (which she looks very offended by, for the record) before taking a deep breath.
“Let me clear something up before we continue.” I begin “You, Holly Alandria, are asking me, Burton Acton, for help with something?”
“Yes,” Holly replies exasperatedly
“Therefore you admit that you cannot do this thing on your own, and that you need me for this. You could not complete this task without my help.”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” Holly says, but she’s smiling “I swear I’ll just ask Halina or Ari.”
“Shhh,” I say “let me revel in this moment.”
——————————
It’s a week later, early in the morning, and I am running down the hallway past my friends’ rooms, screaming at the top of my lungs.
“GET UP, BITCHES! IT’S THE WEDDING DAY! YOU CAN’T GET MARRIED IF YOU’RE ASLEEP THAT’S ILLEGAL. WHOOOOOO!”
I hear a number of voices yelling different things back at me as I run past, shouting and banging on the doors.
“Burton if we wanted a goddamn rooster we’d get one” I hear Holly groaning
“Put him in the wedding party, she said. It’ll be fine, she said,” Everest mutters
“I said put him in the wedding party, not set him to go off at 6 AM,” I hear Amadrya calling back to him from next door “we needed a groomsman not an alarm clock.”
“Who put money in the dumbass?” Macaria shouts “I sleep with a knife don’t be playing games with my REM sleep we all know I’m not kidding I will kill you.”
“I volunteered for the Hunger Games,” Halina calls out “I did not volunteer for this.”
“Due to Burton reasons I no longer want to be part of the wedding,” I hear Ari shout “I value my lie in.”
“TOO LATE YOU’RE ALL AWAKE NOW!” I scream down the corridor “THERE IS NO SLEEP IN HELL!”
So Amadrya and Everest’s wedding day begins with everyone getting up on time but also hating me because yes I had to wake up a bunch of teenagers at 6 AM. It was fun, I don’t regret it, would definitely do it again. At least nobody was late and the wedding went smoothly.
|
|
|
|
Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Jan 18, 2020 21:49:43 GMT -5
(I love you Burton.
“There is no sleep in hell.”)
|
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jan 19, 2020 3:10:50 GMT -5
I had a lot of fun with that post)
|
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jan 19, 2020 5:16:37 GMT -5
(Okay so this is in a situation where Burton did get caught and all that stuff but the thing with Holly and him agreeing to tell Louden what he knew never happened. He was tortured for information but also Louden knew the others would be coming for Burton at some point so he prepared for that eventuality...)
I’m in my cell, just sitting against the wall and staring at nothing. There has been nobody here to speak to apart from Louden and the guards, nobody to keep me anchored. After the first week or so of the torture I stopped trying to irritate Louden with jokes, puns, relentless optimism. Stopped being loud and outspoken and retreated into my mind instead. But my mind has not been my best friend lately either. I just want it to be over.
There are little scars, burns and bruises all over me. I’ve lost weight, gone pale. This doesn’t feel like me. But I’m not entirely sure I know who I am anymore.
It was a few weeks ago that Louden started a new form of torture. They’d inject me with tracker-jacket venom. It would burn through my body, feeling as if it were singeing my veins. I had to have my wrists strapped down because it the pain made me want to tear at my skin. And then the hallucinations would start, and they would show me memories. Mainly of Holly, but sometimes of the other tributes, especially Macaria. My family and a few of the other tributes were untouched.
These memories felt half-remembered, like a distant dream. And then they’d turn into nightmares. They’d tell me how the people I considered my friends hurt me, how the rebels did nothing for me but bring me pain. How my family were in danger with them and I shouldn’t trust them. How Holly was not my friend. Holly did not make friends, she just survived. And she certainly didn’t love me. She was a liar and never cared about me, only about having a human shield in the Games. She would betray me if given the chance. A hollow heart.
That’s what they told me, that’s what they showed me. And gradually, things started to blur. It all feels real and at the same time none of it does. I don’t know what to think, what in the confused fog of my memory is the truth anymore.
It’s late at night, and the guards are at their fewest. Which is why when I hear a commotion nearby it grabs my attention, and I finally snap out of my thoughts. The door bursts open, and a group of people rush into the cell. Familiar people. Diana, Alistair, Everest and Amadrya. Macaria guards the door with Ari while Halina keeps watch further down.
“Thank God you’re alright. Come on,” Amadrya’s saying “we gotta go.”
She and the others approach me, offering their hands to help me stand. Instead, I shrink away. They seem confused, and Amadrya grabs one arm and Everest the other as they haul my to my feet. But I fight my way out of their grip, because the rebels are bad, aren’t they? And Amadrya and Everest were there when Macaria hurt me, they were part of it. They’re dangerous, they only look out for one another. Flashes of the bloody blade of an axe, of a gun going off. They can’t be trusted. Everest’s note. Kill them. The note. He would have betrayed us.
“Get away from me!” I’m saying as I step back
Everest tries to approach me again and I aim a punch to his face. He wasn’t expecting it; it’s enough to turn his head to the side, and the surprised look on his face as he turns back to look at me makes me feel more confused than ever. How is he surprised, after everything he and the others have done?
As soon as I struck Everest, Amadrya snapped into action. From behind, she’s grabbed both of my arms. I struggle against her but in my weak state it’s no use, especially since I just used up a lot of my energy on that punch. Everest helps her restrain me when I try to struggle against them.
“What the hell is going on?” Amadrya’s saying “something’s not right.”
“Screw something’s not right!” Everest says “the guy just punched me in the face. Thank you for getting me out of here would’ve worked just as well.”
Diana, who has been silent so far, approaches me. Looks at my face, searching my eyes. I see her look at Alistair, and they seem to communicate without needing to say anything. She looks with an expression I can’t describe, and his response seems grave but confirming. Whatever she’s thinking, he agrees but it isn’t good.
“I’ve seen this before,” she says “we should leave him here, it’d be dangerous to take him with us.”
“Um,” I hear Macaria call from he place keeping watch “we did not come all this way to leave him. It’s not like getting here was a picnic. Plus Holly may genuinely murder us if we come back without him.”
“She’s already mad enough you didn’t let her come because she is too close to Burton, personal stakes and all that stuff,” Everest adds
“He’s been hijacked,” Diana explains “we don’t know what they’ve done but we know they’ve altered his memories. He is like a bomb just waiting to go off if the wrong memory is triggered, and I’m willing to bet he has terrible memories of all of you now. It’s dangerous for all of you, and it’ll be distressing for you and for his family to see him like this.”
“Well then we take him back and we try and help him!” Amadrya insists, though she speaks through gritted teeth as she struggles to hold me still “Nobody gets left behind. We can’t just leave him here to be tortured or killed. Especially since you got him into this mess in the first place by lying to us about the trackers.”
That left sentence stops Diana in her tracks. She looks at me and sighs, but she nods.
“Fine, okay. But he’ll have to be sedated. Alistair?”
Alistair lets go of me for a moment to rummage in a pack on his back, coming out with a needle and a vial if clear liquid. He pierced the lid of the vial with the needle, and draws up some of the liquid before passing it to Everest. Everest looks a little nervous about the whole thing, but Alistair taps a spot on his neck and Everest nods. I struggle more intensely now, but between Amadrya and Everest I’m not getting free of their grip. More needles. More injections. The panic must be evident on my face now. I feel like I’m about to get another dose of venom, even though I know it doesn’t look like that. I’m panicking now, though.
“Sorry, man,” Everest mutters as I feel the needle pierce my neck, “see you on the other side.”
——————
I wake up in a very clean hospital-like room, on a bed. It doesn’t look or feel the same as the room I was in after I got shot in the Capitol. I’m in the rebel base. Which is not good because the rebels will hurt me. Everyone will hurt me. But at least while I’m here I might have a chance of getting my family out of here so they’re safe from them.
The door opens, and a girl steps inside. A girl with black hair and green eyes. Green eyes that haunt my nightmares now, that fill me with fear and anger. I can’t read the expression on her face. She looks maybe uncertain? Sad? Nervous? A little angry? But also relieved? I don’t know. But maybe I shouldn’t even try. Hollow hearts don’t feel, after all.
“Hey, Acton,” she says as she steps slowly closer.
I might have a lot of memories of Holly, but in none of them does she seem uncertain about anything. She’s always been so sure of herself, confident. This feels strange. But when I look at her, that face and those eyes, awful memories come flooding back. Memories where she hurt me, or would have if the arena hadn’t been destroyed. Where she was dangerous, or bad, or betrayed us.
And so there’s a moment of silence and calm before the storm.
I look at her for a moment, but without even really thinking, filled with nothing but anger and fear, I launch myself at her. I have my hands around her neck when Amadrya and Everest, who were waiting outside it would seem, rush in. Everest hauls me off Holly, and Amadrya stands between me and Holly, who is rising to her feet, rubbing at her neck. I hadn’t had enough time to do anything, she stayed conscious and she’s largely unhurt. She’ll be fine. Unfortunately.
“I’m sorry, Holly,” Amadrya is saying “we really thought you’d be the best person for him to see when he woke up.”
“It’s okay,” Holly says, before looking at me with anger but also hurt in her eyes “I’m fine.”
I’m struggling again, and I must have been sedated again at some point because everything goes black. The next time I wake up, I’m restrained to the bed. For my own safety, Diana explains.
I don’t know what to believe anymore. I’m in a black hole and I’m falling and there’s no light. Nothing to guide me towards the truth. Not even my memory.
|
|
|
|
Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Jan 19, 2020 14:29:41 GMT -5
(Oh ho ho....
Good job for breaking my heart XD,)
|
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jan 19, 2020 14:30:33 GMT -5
Listen writing sad stuff is fun I won’t lie
Don’t worry the next thing I have planned is cute Mallory and Pascal stuff)
|
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jan 19, 2020 15:37:12 GMT -5
Apart from Diana, who explains about the restraints, the first person who comes into the room is my little sister. Lea steps inside, and the pure sadness and nerves on her face breaks my heart. She approaches cautiously but when I don’t react in anger at her presence, she feels safe enough to sit on the bed next to me.
“Burton,” she says softly “are you okay?”
I give her a look, and it must be similar to the kind of look I’d give her normally when she said something stupid, because she smiles a little, and I see the relief behind her eyes.
“A stupid question,” she murmurs
“A little,” I admit, and I pause before asking the question that’s been on my mind, “what did they send you in here to do?”
Lea shifts guiltily, and fixed her eyes on the floor.
“To see if I could get you to agree to talk to Holly,” she replies
“No,” I say “I won’t do that.”
“Burton,” she begs “They think that Holly is where they’ve concentrated your hijacking, where all the bad memories are. They think if you fix all this with her, if you talk to her, it could be the key to starting to help you recover from what it is they’ve done to you.”
“I don’t care if talking to Holly would make rainbows shoot out of my butt, it’s not going to happen”
“Please, I’m being serious about this,” Lea continues “I want my big brother back. If you care about me and Twylla, about mom and dad, you’ll try. Don’t make us live without the Burton we know. He’s still in there, but if you’re too selfish to even try and fix this then I guess he’s deeper down than I thought.”
The Burton she knew was lost from the moment I entered the Games, but I suppose she has a point
“Okay, okay, I’ll talk to her,” I say with a sigh
Lea gives another smile then, a bigger one this time, and hugs me. I can’t hug her back because of the restraints but she doesn’t seem the care.
When she leaves to go and tell Holly to come in, I’m glad of the restraints. Not because I don’t want to hurt Holly, but because Lea would never forgive me if I did. She wants me to try, and if I harmed Holly she’d hate me for not trying to fix this.
I can’t help but stiffen, though, when she comes in. All I can do is look at her with suspicion as she approaches. At first I think her hands are fixed on the restraints binding me to the bed, but I realise they’re on my hands. The hands I’d tried to kill her with last time she came in here.
“I agreed to do this for my sister,” I say, “not for the rebels and definitely not for you.”
“I know,” she says “and to be honest you’re pretty damn lucky I agreed to do this either after what you did last time.”
“And I’d probably do it again if I weren’t tied to this bed.”
Like I was when they injected me with the venom.
Holly looks at me for a moment, and her expression is so strange it makes me feel uncomfortable. It’s like she’s staring into my soul.
“What?” I ask defensively
“I don’t even know you anymore,” she says “this isn’t you.”
“Maybe more than just my memories changed. I don’t care, I don’t care what changed. I don’t care whether it’s just the hijacking, just the being locked alone in that cell, just the time I spent undercover. Or maybe it’s the Hunger Games. Based on what I’ve been through, I think I’ve every right to change. That doesn’t concern me right now. All I know is that I hate you.”
“But why?” Holly asks “I’ve been there through everything, did everything to protect you in the Arena.”
“Right, because I was never capable of looking after myself? I didn’t lose my parents like you, so that makes me naive. I didn’t have it as rough, so I’m weak and incompetent? Let me tell you something, Holly, you’re not the only one who’s had to be grown up and responsible. I had my family to think about and to take care of, I had my sisters to protect and be a role model for. I gave up everything for them. Who have you had to sacrifice for? Who did you leave when you went into the Arena?”
“Right, because I’ve lost people, I don’t care?” Holly scoffs “I care about people.”
“Who? Who did you care about?” I challenge
“I cared about you!” she yells, before lowering her voice “I cared about you, okay?”
“You don’t care, you don’t care about anyone. All you do is distance yourself, push people away. You don’t let yourself get close to people, you’re frightened of your own feelings. You’re so pathologically afraid of being close to people that you have to betray and hurt before they do the same to you. And do you know what? I’ve had enough of being hurt, of being betrayed. Whether what I remember is real or not, whether you really did what I remember you doing to me, it doesn’t matter. Because I know that one thing is true - I don’t want to be part of these stupid Games anymore. I do care, I wear my heart on my sleeve. Why should I be vulnerable around you when I know you’ll never do the same for me? You’ll let me get close, and then you’ll realise what’s happening and you’ll hurt me to push me away. Like you always do. And I fall for it every damn time.”
“I don’t know what you remember, but it’s not real,” Holly assures me “I’ve never hurt you before.”
“Maybe, but you know that’s what you do. Why would I let you do that? Why would I let you and the others poison my sisters into joining the rebels? Why would I let them be out in danger fighting a pointless cause?”
“That is not you speaking.” Holly firmly says
But her voice starts to crack, which startles me.
“I can’t do this,” she says “I’ve never been sure of anything since my father left. Especially not since I was chosen for the Games. But I met you and I was sure. I was sure that you would never change. With your optimism and your stupid puns. You’d always have hope, everything I didn’t have, and I knew that even through the Hunger Hames and through the war nothing could ever make you change. You were the first person I could trust and you’ve been the only thing I thought I could count on in all of this. He’ll never hurt me, I thought.”
I just look away, turning my head towards the wall.
“Isn’t it a shame I could never say the same about you?”
|
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jan 20, 2020 10:52:46 GMT -5
It’s not too long after we brought Mallory and Pascal back from District 3. We didn’t have anywhere for them to stay so when Burton left for the Capitol we put a couple of beds in his room for the two of them. It’s not like Burton will mind, and it’s been cleared of most of his stuff so there’s enough space. It’s still weird seeing the footage from before he left being aired to make it seem like he’s still here.
I’m sitting in the living area, having a bit of downtime. The first bit of proper downtime I’ve had in a while between missions, training and doing all the rebel propaganda stuff, from photoshoots to interviews. Holly hates that stuff too, but the fact that we both hate it kind of helps since we know we’re not on our own with it.
That’s when I hear a clattering sound from the training room.
“You’re so close!” I hear Macaria saying encouragingly.
I rise to my feet, talking quickly to stand in the doorway of the training room, where I see Macaria kneeling next to Mallory. A knife sits on the floor next to a target - a much closer target than Macaria would normally go for.
“Macaria Slayte,” I call in my most authoritative voice “please tell me you’re not teaching Mallory how to throw knives.”
“Relax, Seven,” she says with a roll of her eyes “they’re not my good knives.”
“No,” I say “you know what’s not what I mean. What did we say about sharp objects around the children?”
“I was younger than her when I started to learn!” Macaria challenges
“Yes, and you’re a psychopath,”
“Rude!” Macaria says with mock offence “if anything I’m more like a high functioning sociopath.”
I can’t help but smile at that joke, but I shake my head.
“Keep your knives away from the seven-year-old, I’m serious,” I warn
I see the grin on Macaria’s face as she figures out a loophole, though, so I quickly correct myself.
“And the three-year-old as well!”
Macaria huffs but turns back to Mallory. Satisfied that at the very least I warned Macaria and am therefore not responsible for anything that happens here, I turn to leave the room.
“Ignore Maddie,” I hear Macaria say quietly to Mallory “she’s a spoilsport. I bet she’s just jealous you’re better than her. I know that because I saw her try throwing knives in training and she’s terrible.”
I can’t help but snort at that, but I head back through to the living area only to find that it’s now occupied by Holly, who is being followed by Pascal. The boy still hasn’t spoken yet since we brought him and his sister here. Too shy, too scared by the loss of his father and overwhelmed by the war. Too young to understand the fear. But he’ll get there. Holly is trying to head down the hallway only to find that Pascal is following.
“Does it work like ducklings or something?” Holly asks me “am I just the first one he saw?”
“He likes you,” I say with a shrug “you must make him feel safe.”
“Yeah,” Holly says as she picks Pascal up and sits him on her shoulders “but he’s a kid. I don’t know how to do kids.”
“Well, get used to it,” I reply with a smirk “you’re his favourite now.”
Holly rolls her eyes, but I see a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. On some level, she’s kind of enjoying this.
“Fine,” she says before looking up at Pascal “shall we go play outside, then?”
“Yeah,” Pascal murmurs quietly
That makes both me and Holly freeze, and we look at the boy with stunned expressions.
“”Did...” I begin “did he just?”
“Speak?” Holly says in astonishment “yeah”
That’s the first time he’s said anything since we found him, so we’re both pretty excited.
“Oh my god,” I say with relief and excitement
“Yeah,” Holly says with a smile I could swear was like a proud grin “but you’ll think he’s a lot less cute when you find out he wrote his name on your bedroom wall.”
“What?”
I run down to my room, and open the door to see what Holly wasn’t wrong. ‘PASCAL’ is written on the wall, probably in some kind of crayon or something.
“His handwriting is pretty good, though, to be fair to him” I concede
|
|
|
|
Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Jan 20, 2020 18:13:42 GMT -5
(Dah.
They’re too cute.)
|
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jan 20, 2020 18:14:45 GMT -5
I’m glad you liked it! I’m gonna write some more stuff probably tomorrow)
|
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jan 21, 2020 11:58:06 GMT -5
I sit around the fire in the arena with the rest of the career pack. We can afford to have a fire, nobody will dare attack us. At the moment our group is the biggest in the Arena, not to mention our career pedigrees.
Alessandro is busy sorting out our supplies. We might go on the hunt later, and none of us should be carrying a load that’s too cumbersome. If it’s equally divided we should be fine. Plus when we get back from hunting tributes we can divide up the loot between us. That way we’ll all have plenty of food and supplies.
I’m sitting sharpening my knife on a piece of flat rubble - since I don’t have a whetstone. It’s not the ideal thing for sharpening but you take what you get in the Arena. Halina is scouting out the area and gathering supplies, as is Everest and Sapphire. We moved quite a lot today so it’s good to see where the supplies are around here and if there is any evidence of tributes in the area. It’ll make out jobs easier later. Amadrya is keeping the fire burning and cooking some food for when the others get back. She looks a little tense, I can tell by the tightness in her shoulders. She’s not comfortable on her own with Alessandro and I.
“You know, I’m surprised you’re still here,” I say to Amadrya as I work
“A bit on the nose to say that when you’re sharpening a knife, isn’t it?” Amadrya responds with a raised eyebrow, but I catch the flash of nerves that she tries to hide “what do you mean by that?”
“I just mean I thought you’d have cleared out as soon as you got a good stock of supplies after the bloodbath.”
“We both know that’d be stupid,” Amadrya scoffs “aside from one of two other tributes I’m the biggest threat to all of you in the Arena right now. If I left I’d have a pretty big target on my back, plus if I made off with a load of your supplies you’d make it your mission to come after me.”
“Keep your enemies close, huh?” I ask “you’re smarter than you look, Seven,”
“Don’t pretend you aren’t doing the same - you would never have let Everest invite me to join if it weren’t for that. Don’t think I can’t tell you’re planning on killing me as soon as I’ve gotten rid of your biggest threats. You just think I’m some muscle to kill off the big competitors and get you through the early days and then you can get rid of me, and Everest too, ideally, since you hate that he let me in. Two birds with one stone.”
“Is that so?” I ask cooly, though of course she’s right. She just doesn’t know the parts of my plan that involve the other careers, which means she isn’t as observant as she thinks.
“Don’t do that,” Amadrya snaps “don’t play your dumb innocent games with me, I saw through them from the start. Your boy toy might not have enough brains to see what you’re really doing but don’t assume the rest of us are as stupid. I’m more than a match for you.”
Her comment about Alessandro being stupid promoted him to stop what he was doing and reach for the sword laying beside him, but a simple look from me stopped him from doing anything. He knows I have this, and besides we can’t kill her yet. As irritating as she may be, she’s still useful.
“Oh, hon,” I respond, a hint of pity lacing my voice “I don’t think you have any idea who you’re dealing with. But then I suppose it does take quite a lot of arrogance for you to even think for a second that you’re anywhere near the level of a career. I’m more skilled than you in every way.”
“Including at needing other people to save your life,” Amadrya challenges “and a non-career to boot. I bet the fact that you almost died in the bloodbath will have lost you a good chunk of sponsors, sponsors that I will have gained for saving your life. Looks that academy education of yours hasn’t served you so well after all. But then what do I know, I’m just a dumb kid from District 7, right?”
“If you were really smart you’d have let me die. Nobody would have blamed you and you could have been down one career.”
“Lucky for you I’m stupid then, isn’t it?” she smirks
“Oh, believe me, love,” I grin “you’re messing with things you don’t understand. You’ll never get out of here, and do you know why? You’re still trying to be the good guy. I got news for you; nobody who wins the Games gets to be the good guy. Oh, the Capitol loves them, sure. And the people who want their money. But I promise you that you’ll always be a murderer. Me, on the other hand? I’m already the bad guy.”
————-//————
After our conversation, Amadrya heads off to get some air and presumably to get rid of some of the anger from our argument. Probably she’s hoping to find Everest. Alessandro has finished organising our packs and sits next to me.
“Is that what you really want?” he asks
“What?” I say
“To be the bad guy?”
“If you figured out a new method of winning the Hunger Games in the last five minutes I’m all ears,” I shrug “but last I heard it involves quite a bit of murder.”
“I’m being serious,” he says “don’t you think if you don’t survive this you would rather be remembered as good?”
“No,” I shrug “Listen, you and Amadrya, you both have families. People who will remember you for who you were. I don’t, all I have is what the academy made me. And if I want to be remembered, I have to make people remember me. I’m not going to be remembered by being nice, Arlo. Nobody remembers all the good kids who die in the Hunger Games. Those kids Astrape and Carlo, they won’t be remembered by anyone but their families once the victory tour ends. If I don’t win at least I won’t be forgotten.”
“And you’re going to pay for that with other people’s blood?” Alessandro asks
“”Don’t do this to me!” I sigh “you’re a Career too, you know what this takes. You know what we have to do to win the Games. If I could choose something else I would, but I can’t. It has to be this way, and who am I to change it? What right do I have to say any of this is wrong now? After already causing so much pain. You want to win too, you will kill too.”
“Sure,” he says “but to make the people who love me proud, not to make people remember me for the stuff I did in here.”
|
|
|
|
Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Jan 21, 2020 12:45:17 GMT -5
(Oh I’m inspired to do a Holly kind of perspective with Burton about her being remembered. Where instead of going on a death mission, she opens up about how she feels/breaks.)
|
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jan 21, 2020 13:40:44 GMT -5
Oooooh that would be awesome)
|
|
|
|
Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Jan 21, 2020 17:01:37 GMT -5
“I am not a nuisance, you’re a nuisance.” I comment back, glaring at the brunette boy who is taller than I.
“I was saying that I felt like a nuisance...um, sorry?” He responds to me, his eyes glinting in his complete confusion he just experienced on my behalf.
I cross my arms anyways, glaring at him, “You’re not a nuisance, I am,” I choose to say, grinning as he looks even more puzzled. He fixed me with this confused look, and I grin like a Cheshire Cat, fixing my eyes on his own.
“I can’t argue with that,” he decides on with a shrug.
Immediately, I’m up and snorting, “That’s rude!” I hiss out at him, before smirking, “So other then your poor family, who else do you know?”
I might be selfish for asking. If he asked me, I probably would refuse to answer. But I want to know more about him, I want to know about his life before the games. I want to know the real Burton.
“How’s my family poor? How would you know that?” He suddenly questions, and I do a double take for a moment. Confused, before it settled in. He gave me some vital information, his family doesn’t have much money.
“I meant that they had to deal with you.” I deadpan, I’m not too entirely surprised. I can see in his eyes, he’s much smarter and able then I give credit for. I can tell that he’s smirking to, that little upturn of his lips isn’t a quirk for him.
He snorts, clueing me in to the fact that he’s about to joke back, “As if! You’re the nuisance, you said so yourself.”
“Ah, dang. Guess I’ll just die then.” I huff out, shrugging as I tiptoe to the edge of the roof, we’re watching the metaphorical sunset, because obviously, we’re in a giant ass dome that is made up of images. So really, we’re just watching a giant TV. But Burton wanted to do it and it’s the thought that counts.
“Holly! Be careful!” He yelped, and I almost feel bad. But feeling bad is for wimps and I’m obviously not a wimp. “You’re near the edge of the roof! You’ll fall if you die-I mean, die if you fall!”
“Oh my goodness!” I call in some stupid accent, a mimicry, turning and laying my head back, laying my other arm over my head dramatically. “I’ll fall if I die!” I start, barely holding in chortles of laughter, “It’s almost as if you die by falling from skyscrapers! Who knew?”
He looks so panicked as I lean back, that I finally realize that maybe I’m going too far. So I look down, though I immediately regretted it. It’s so far down, and I can feel the wind pulling me like a current. The fall down suddenly becomes longer, looming, and I feel like I’m falling.
Then I feel arms around me, and I register how loud the beating of my heart is, how fast it’s running. Adrenaline had kicked in fast. But I felt frozen, staring down.
That’s when I come face to face with the fact that I could die. And it would be permanent, and immediately I feel very guilty.
I wanted to die, so he could live. But I knew he cared for me, maybe not in the same way I cared for him, but he did care. And you never get over that kind of pain. When someone leaves you, willingly.
“I can’t do it.” I croak, glaring down, realizing he dragged me away from the edge.
“Holly!” He is about to scorn my actions, but I think he saw my face, and his voice is softer, “What can’t you do?”
“I can’t do it!” I repeat, like somehow it gives him anymore context, “I can’t just go off and die and be forgotten! I can’t just leave you behind!”
It takes me like two seconds to realize that I didn’t think those words and that I said them out loud. His face is very pale, broken really, and sad. I feel like I kicked a puppy. Except I didn’t, I kicked an overly happy teenage fashionista(basically) who I somehow decided to befriend and I felt like the scum of the earth.
Scratch that, I’m already the scum of the earth but still. I somehow feel guilty in the middle of the bloodbath for doing the one thing I always did. Not using a filter and spitting out whatever the hell insults I thought out.
“Why-?” He starts, and I huff out angrily.
“Shut up.” I comment, fixing him with a simple glare, “I refuse to die and become some broken doll of a memory. Screw the Capitol. Screw Macaria and Alessandro and all the other careers. I’m not giving up on my life. I might be a nuisance and have literally nothing other than some wierd ass freak-boy friend to live for, but whatever, Screw life I’m not dying.”
I break down laughing after that at the extremely confused look he wore. He looks at me, raising an eyebrow. “Um, you okay?”
“Am I okay? Are you an idiot? Haha, no!” I snicker, my snakelike eyes focused on his, “Just like you’re not a cool diehard career.”
“That is rude, but thanks.” He shrugs.
“So, in case I die in some weird accident involving me and a katana and me thinking I’m a career all of a sudden - or you know, the Capitol gaining a brain and killing me - I want to be remembered for more than some snarky puns.”
“Okay?”
I flash a smirk, he still looks confused, maybe a little sad, but also is hiding a smirk.
I don’t know how, and I quirk a brow at it, but whatever, “I’m an orphan. My momma got hung up in an issue with a friend, and my dad did up and up left,” I commented, “Of course, I was the one time they didn’t use protection, either that or I ate my twin in the womb,” I shrug, “So I lived the greater part of my life as a sob story who was determined not the be a sob story, wanna know what happened next?” I questioned.
Wearing that same look, he nodded, “Uh, sure?”
“Still a sob story!” I exclaimed, waving my hands around exaggeratingly, “So for some reason, I built this persona that was like ‘I’m all mysterious and shit, no one’s going to know about my past and everyone’s going to be afraid to talk to me because I’m going to act emotionless’. I’m still like that, by the way, don’t expect me to ever change.” I commented, before popping my butt right back on the edge of the roof and dangling my legs over the edge, “And I built a fear of being forgotten. Because I let myself believe the things some useless asshats told me, like Macaria.” I heart a snort behind me. “So I, being the intelligent, perfect masochist I am, decided ‘Hey, I’m going to get attached to someone during the Hunger Games because there’s absolutely nothing that could go wrong with that’ and now you’re stuck with me.”
“Forever?” He groaned playfully, before speaking again, I could hear the smile he had by the tone of his voice, “Man, I thought maybe I could kill you when you were sleeping tonight.”
“Hey, you’re treading into dangerous territory, obviously I’d kill you first. We’ve already talked about this!” I retorted, crossing my arms.
“Yeah, sure, sure, let’s get to bed.” He commented and I roll my eyes in annoyance.
—
The next day, we were scavenging. He’s in a building, and I’m on watch when I hear someone near by. Though I’m not too alarmed by it.
“Fun to meet you here, Macaria,” I start, snickering as I hear the footfalls stop, “I just noticed you noticing me and wanted to give you notice that I’m noticing you in return.”
I turn back, she’s still a bit away, she seemed to be alone, probably being a sightseer for her group right now. That means the others can’t be far away, I’ll have to stall her until Burton gets done, though I’m not too entirely concerned. She looks much too tired to deal with me. Which will make this even more fun.
“Well, could I interest you in some small talk before you try canoodling me and my bud out of lives?”
She snorts, she’s not going to offer up a respond yet. So I continue on.
“While we wait then, Macaria, I’d like to get to know more about you. Where were you born? Was it District 13? I hear that’s where most of the accidents happen.”
I chortle at the huff she gives off. Annoying her is too easy, and way too fun.
“Are you always this stupid and idiotic?” She questions me, rolling her eyes.
“Of course I am!” I respond, cooing slightly, “I have to be if I want people like you to understand what I say.”
“You’re not insulting me any, just so you know. You’re just being annoying. Every word will make your death that much longer.”
“Well put me out of my misery then! Looking at you is like looking at a bloated dog,” I shrug, “Anyways, I’d love to insult you, but nature’s already done enough on that front.”
Her face twists into a grimace of annoyance. But I don’t really care too much. If she ever catches me, I’ll be dead anyways. I’m going to have fun when I’m alive.
“Real funny, Alandria.” She spits back, obviously about to say something more, but I interrupt.
“Like, seriously,” I mimic an accent more like hers, snickering, then, dropping it as I deadpanned staring at her, “You’re the sperm that won?”
“At least I’ll be alive when this is over,” She commented back, crossing her arms, “And I don’t look like you, and I’m never going to be forgotten like you.”
I am surprised, that usually would have hit close to home, but I just flash a smile back, “Slayte, in order to insult me, I must first value your opinion. And there’s nothing about you to value. But nice try,” I flash a sweet innocent smile at her.
“You’re loved by no one, Alandria, you’re really getting no where with this.”
“And here I thought that was you!” I then rubbed my temples, “Everytime you speak, I feel my brain cells committing suicide. Though I doubt you could relate, I don’t think you have any left.”
“Do you ever shut up?” She snapped.
“Haha! No!” I pointed out, before using my wit(what was left of it) to sing her a little lullaby, “Twinkle, twinkle, little star! I wish you would drown in tar! Jump off a building oh so high! Hope you break your neck and die! Twinkle-“
“What the hell is she doing here?” Burton questioned, suddenly walking out the door and staring like a deer at Macaria.
I simply shrugged, “I’m being a savage and insulting her, what did it look like?”
“We should probably handle her now, though.” He pointed out.
“Eh, I know.” I hummed, about to continue.
“I’m still here, you’re both going to die so you better start running,” Macaria warned.
“Oh sweetie,” I started, snickering softly, “If I wanted to die I could just kill myself by climbing up your ego and landing on your IQ.”
All of us stared at each other. Me with a cheeky ass smile on my face. Burton just looked awkward trying to hold in his laughter. Macaria looked pissed off.
Finally Burton turned to me, eyes wide.
“Holly, run.”
(I’m sorry that was too much fun.)
|
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jan 21, 2020 18:12:52 GMT -5
The rebellion is over, but nothing else is.
We are the symbol of the new Panem. Youthful, brave, strong. Fighters. Everest and I? Our love is a symbol of hope to the people. Holly’s undaunted nature, her fierce perseverance, is a symbol of the revolutionary spirit. Burton’s optimism and laughter, his sense of humour, it’s our hope for a brighter future. A hope that lies in young people like us. Ari’s kindness a symbol of the new relationship between the districts, their unity and connectedness. Halina is a symbol of friendship, of the strength of the rebellion, of the hope for a Panem which can trust and care for its districts - and of the bravery of the young people, being that apart from Ari she’s the youngest of us.
We’re celebrities now, famous just like we would have been if we were victors.
We’re bothered constantly by the media. Holly and I take particular offence to it, and are known far more than others to get a little...curt in interviews. But probably one of the worst of us affected by it is Macaria. She would normally have loved the fame and attention, if it weren’t for the constant reminders of Alessandro.
Her loss of the boy she loved is being used to show how the new government sympathises with those who lost family in the rebellion. They do interviews constantly asking her about him, they even did an awful photoshoot with her in a black mourning dress. It makes me feel sick.
For the rest of us, sometimes they emphasise or hide our flaws as they see fit. Sometimes they make a feature of our scars if it serves the story they’re telling, sometimes they cover them with makeup. They mess with our image as they see fit, sometimes dressing me in my rebel uniform with my axe in hand. Other times, they dress me in ultra feminine gowns. Sometimes, since Everest and I are married now and so I’m the ‘married’ one of the group, they dress me like a middle aged mother to get a more ‘homey’ feeel. None of it is anything I’d ever choose to wear.
We’re all living in our big house between Districts 7 and 8, which is wonderful. I love it. But it offers us no escape from the press. In fact, I’m relaxing in our living area when I hear a clamouring outside the building.
When I head outside, without makeup and dressed simply in jeans and a jumper with my hair unbraided, I’m immediately blinded by flashing cameras. Microphones are thrust into my face.
“Amadrya, what do you say to the rumours that you’re pregnant?” one interviewer asked
“Uh,” I begin, a little in shock and dazed by the suddenness of the question “Everest and I aren’t ready to share any information like that right now.”
“So is that a yes?”
“We’re not going to discuss pregnancy or babies at the moment,” I insist “I assure you that any pregnancy news will be shared at an appropriate time.”
I am pregnant, but I’m only a month pregnant. I’ve only told Everest, not even our friends know yet, though I think Holly suspects. I’m not ready to share this news yet, not until it feels right. I have to tell at least mine and Everest’s families first.
“Can you comment on whether Burton and Holly are in a relationship?”
“That isn’t my information to share,” I reply, but my smile is getting strained now
“Do your scars affect your body image and self-confidence?”
“Why are all the questions for the girls about our love lives or our bodies?” I ask, annoyance creeping into my voice
“How does it feel now that the rebellion is over?” one reporter asks
“Did the Hunger Games change you as a person?” another chimes in
“How has your heroic rebel status affected your life?” asks another
That’s when I snap. I purse my lips before giving a tight smile
“I have a message for Panem,” I announce
The cameras move closer, the microphones held closer to my face as reporters desperately try to catch my words
“I am sick of all these questions from reporters. I am not a heroic rebel. Yes, the rebellion and the Hunger Games changed me and not for the better - there is nothing glamorous or mysterious about it. My suffering is not for your amusement. Just like Macaria’s loss shouldn’t be made out like it’s an attractive quality. I don’t need anyone’s sympathy either. I’m not someone you’re meant to look up to. I’m just a girl, a girl who happened to survive things she shouldn’t have because of the amazing people she had by her side. Apart from my ability to swing an axe, I’m entirely unremarkable. I’m a woman who just got married and would like to start my life with my husband in peace, and for our future children to grow up without being harassed. I want their lives to be entirely separate from the horrors their parents went through. But nobody cares about us, just what we represent. Well, let me tell you something.”
I lean forward so that my mouth is very close to one of the microphones.
“We all still have our weapons and we’re kind of getting tired of this whole thing to be honest, so if you want my advice GET OUT!”
I tell those last words, startling the crowd of reporters, who rush to pack up and leave as I return inside the house to see Holly lying across the couch, arms folded behind her head.
“Too much?” I ask her with a smirk
“Nah,” Holly grins “I thought you underdid it if anything.”
|
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jan 22, 2020 4:16:20 GMT -5
I’m in the Arena, keeping watch. I couldn’t sleep, so when Halina came to take my watch I told her to go get some more sleep. I did the same for Alessandro, then Sapphire, and in a few hours I’ll do the same for Amadrya and Everest. Everyone is exhausted, which is why we’re not doing double watches tonight like we would usually do. We went on a long and unsuccessful mission of tribute hunting and the exhaustion is creeping in.
So why can’t I sleep?
I stare at the little fire that flickers in front of me, throwing little embers that drift into the endless blackness above me. The buildings are shadowy and imposing against the navy sky, but I’m not scared of them. I’ve never been afraid of a city, not like Amadrya. I know anywhere without trees isn’t her forte, and I can see how outside her comfort zone she is.
The District 8 tribute, on the other hand, they run around this place with complete trust and comfort. More than even I and the other careers. I’ve seen it, when I’ve been scouting out their camp. District 8 is a city that looks a lot like this, just not crumbling as much as this one. Always spewing black smoke from factory chimneys, that’s what my tutor at the academy told me.
I try to remember everything the academy taught me. Be pretty and glamorous, be likeable, be strong, be humble, be flirty, be deadly. Walk with poise, keep your head up. Be graceful, move with purpose. Everything must be carefully calculated. Be smarter than you look. Dumb enough that the other tributes underestimate you, but not so dumb that the Capitol does. Remember this is an honour, a chance to bring glory to the district and to partake in a tradition Panem could not survive without. Play carefully, but play ruthlessly.
Be without mercy and without regret.
But I don’t know if I can do that. I never anticipated that this would be my problem in the arena; I thought it would be that I wasn’t a good enough manipulator, that I couldn’t get the Capitol to like me or the other tributes to trust me. But apparently not. Apparently it’s morality.
I keep seeing Carlo’s face when my knife hits him, when he was trying to get to Astrape. Just trying to help her, someone he barely knew. He died with more goodness than I ever could. He was just a kid. Hell, we’re all just kids but they were fourteen.
I know it’s too late, that goodness is far beyond my reach. And besides, why should I get to change? Why do I deserve to still be alive, to have a chance to become better when there are people better than me who are dead? I always said people don’t change, and I operated under that assumption. Never even tried to be better. I don’t get to turn my back on that now, it wouldn’t be fair.
I look at Alessandro, asleep not too far away. He looks different when he’s asleep. We all do; all look younger, more carefree, without troubles. Even the most intimidating of the group just look like kids when they’re sleeping. But as I look at Alessandro, the amber light of the flames flickering on his face, I know he thinks I’m so much better than I am. I want to be the person he thinks I am, but I’m not. And what if I can never live up to the girl he fell in love with?
But more than that; after all of this, how can I carry on? How can I just kill Alessandro and the others and end the career pack just like that, for the sake of a win? How can I still pursue the victory here? Do I even deserve to win? I won’t be missed, but all the people around me will.
That’s what Alessandro said in the end, when I told him about wanting to be remembered.
“I’d rather be missed,”
And he’s right, isn’t he? But I can’t make people miss me. Nobody at home will miss me, nobody at home loved me. Nobody here will miss me, especially not since all but one of us will die. I’m the manipulator, emotionless and cold. I’m the bad guy.
Maybe my best course of action is to do nothing. Maybe I just stay with the pack and let someone else make the move. One day, one of us will end the pack. Everest, Halina, Sapphire, Alessandro. One of them will do it. Alessandro is my bet; Everest and Amadrya think I haven’t heard them talking about striking out on their own. They don’t want a fight. So when Alessandro finally decides to kill off the rest of the pack, maybe I just let him. Maybe I let someone who will be missed have a chance at winning.
Or I could leave on my own like Everest and Amadrya. It wouldn’t be hard, I’d only have to pack up a bag. I could go now, while everyone is asleep. But then if I ran into Holly and her district partner I’d be on my own, and I already made the dumb decision of threatening her at training. And if Everest and Amadrya leave I’d probably be their first target. No, I need the security of the group.
I’m sick of not knowing who I am and who I need to be. Not knowing whether what I’m doing is right, not knowing whether people see the real me or not. I don’t know, I’m not even sure who the real me is anymore. I lost that a long time ago. And I always thought I’d find it again if I won but that’s starting to seem like a more and more remote possibility.
I’m torn, and confused, and filled with guilt and doubt.
|
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jan 22, 2020 12:28:20 GMT -5
It was the day of the wedding, and Everest stood at the altar ready. Amadrya was meant to walk down the aisle five minutes ago, but there had been no sign of her yet.
Everest had already sent the wedding party looking for her when she hadn’t arrived, but had heard nothing back from any of the bridesmaids or groomsmen.
That was when the door burst open and a man stood at the threshold. It didn’t take Everest any time at all to recognise Louden, his blood running cold at the sight of the man after everything he and the people he cared about had been through.
”You know, it really was a shame not to get an invitation,” Louden said with mock hurt, but a smile grew on his face as he began to stroll nonchalantly down the aisle.
”Where’s Amadrya?” Everest asked abruptly, refusing to play Louden’s game here.
”Ah, yes!” Louden said, as if remembering something suddenly “the wedding simply can’t go ahead without the bride.”
He clicked his fingers, and out of a door to one side of the room stepped two peacekeepers, holding a struggling Amadrya, still in her wedding dress. Louden approached her, grabbing her chin and lifting it so she looked at him.
”Give us a smile, dear, it’s your wedding day,” Louden mocked “you’d look so pretty if you smiled.”
Amadrya’s only response to that was to spit at Louden, and continue to struggle. Louden, though, turned back towards Everest.
”Oh, and to answer the questions I’m sure you’re having. If anyone is thinking of leaving...”
He clicked his fingers once again and a group of armed peacekeepers poured into the room, their guns aimed at the wedding guests in their seats.
”I wouldn’t advise it. And if you’re wondering where your wedding party have gotten to...”
He pointed through the door Amadrya came through and down into a hallway, where a few peacekeepers stood guard at a door about halfway down. Distant yelling could be heard from inside, and then a crash on the door.
——————
”I think I just broke my shoulder” Burton groaned
”Well maybe next time don’t ram a door with it, genius!” Holly commented, rolling her eyes
”I know how to break down a door!”
”Clearly not or we wouldn’t be here,” Halina pointed out
”I know it’s a bad time, but I feel like I should mention I’m a little claustrophobic,” Macaria interrupted
”You’re telling us this now?” Burton shouted incredulously
”I’m sorry my panic attack isn’t coming at a convenient time for you, Burton,” Macaria retorted
”Um, angry peacekeepers?” Holly asks, slamming her palm against the door “can we get a paper bag in here or something? The big tough career is hyperventilating.”
”Am not!” Macaria insisted
”You keep telling yourself that,” Holly smirks “just don’t use up the oxygen.”
Macaria went bright red
”Shut up!”
————————
Everest could hear the emotion and the banging from the door but the words weren’t clear. It didn’t matter though, because he knew Louden wasn’t lying. Those were his friend’s voices.
”It’s just you, me, and your fiancée.”
”Wife,” Everest corrected
”Oh, not yet. And she won’t be unless you make the right decision here.”
”Fine,” Everest said, crossing his arms “what do you want from me?”
”Anything I tell you and your friends to do to bring down the rebels. If you don’t, Maddie here dies.”
Louden grabbed Amadrya from the peacekeepers holding her, dismissing them with a wave of his hand. He drew a knife from its sheath, and held it against Amadrya’s neck.
”Everest, don’t be stupid!” Amadrya cried “don’t do it.”
”Shut up, will you?” Louden said with a roll of his eyes, digging the blade in slightly “don’t forget you’re not as strong as you think you are without your axe.”
He looked to Everest again, smiling.
”She did the same for you, didn’t she? Agreed to my deal to protect you. And don’t forget, I have your friends in that room too and I might just throw them in as well if you need the stakes upping.
”So what’ll it be? How far will you go?”
|
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jan 24, 2020 18:15:17 GMT -5
I’m sitting in the doorway of a building, staring into the hazy distance. It’s dawn now, which means the careers should be ready to head back to camp not that their prime tribute hunting time is over.
I’m alone. I lost Holly two days ago, when she sacrificed herself to lead the careers away from her camp and from me.
———
I remember sitting with her one evening, talking in hushed tones as darkness began to grow deeper around us, enveloping us and making us feel secure. Holly has told me how the careers were closing in on the location of our camp, and they’d already injured me.
“We can’t take an attack from them,” Holly pointed out “we have to do something.”
I looked at her hesitantly. I had my reservations about doing anything to mess with the careers, especially right then while they still had lots of food supplies and were strong. Plus I could already kind of see where this is going.
“I’m assuming the thing you think has to be done will involve putting yourself at risk?” I asked
“Probably,” Holly shrugged
“You could die!” I hissed
Holly gave me an exasperated look then, I could see it even in the dim light, her eyes glinting at me.
“That’s kind of the name of the game, Acton,” she pointed out, before staring past me into the ruined city outside “besides, I’m not afraid of that.”
Then it was my turn to get exasperated. I rose to my feet suddenly, running my hands frustratedly through my hair as I paced. Holly gave me a questioning look.
“That’s just your problem, isn’t it!” I said “you’re not afraid of death. You think you won’t be missed, or whatever. But I’d be devastated if you died, Holly! Death doesn’t happen to you, it happens to the people around you.”
“And what do you know about death?” Holly challenged
“More than I’m sure you assume,” I counter, “just please listen to me. I can’t lose you.”
She went quiet in that moment, but it was an uncomfortable silence. Because I knew I hadn’t changed her mind at all. She was still thinking about it, planning it.
————
And that’s what she did. Knocked me out and ran off to lead the careers away from our camp. I’d tried to stop her, because I’d do anything to protect her, I always have. But when I woke up I was just in time to hear the cannon.
I was already too late when I found her. Macaria and the careers must have only just left because they hadn’t collected her body yet. Staring up, unseeing, at the sky. Her dark hair gently ruffled by a breeze, touching skin that couldn’t feel anymore. She was covered in cuts and gashes before the fatal wound that ended her. I knew Macaria had enjoyed whatever twisted fun she’d had here. Carving swirls and patterns. Only she would do that. Everest or Alessandro would have at least given her a quick death. So would Halina. Amadrya would never have hurt her without being forced, I know Holly had made an impression on her in the Arena.
I still remember her eyes. The green had dulled and seemed lifeless, without the spark. Without the ferocity and pure determination that always seemed to burn there. A being of pure defiance, who would go on living purely to spite a life that didn’t seem to want her to. But it seemed that running from death had finally caught up with her, as I am sure it soon will with me. I’d closed her eyes before I left. Arranged her hair, zipped up her jacket. Drew the District 8 crest on the dusty ground beside her, for the cameras to see.
All we do is kill and die.
But now I’m out of supplies. Holly’s were already gone, looted from her body, not that I’m sure I would have been able to bring myself to take anything that was hers. As much as I don’t want to move, don’t want to do anything. I know I have to seek supplies. So, heavily, I rise to my feet and head off into the early morning.
———
I have maybe been searching in the arena an hour before I almost run into two figures. Macaria and Alessandro. As soon as she sees me, a smile stretches across Macaria’s face. She even scrunches her nose as if it’s a totally innocent, friendly smile.
“Hey, Burton!” she says with a tilt of her head “how’s the leg?”
“Macaria,” I say, half angry and half still in shock that she’s suddenly standing right in front of me.
“I was wondering when we’d run into you again,” she continues “where’ve you been, honey?”
“I don’t know if you’ve heard of a little thing called the Hunger Games,” I reply sarcastically “but that’s what I’ve been up to recently.”
I take a step back, but come up against a wall. It’s a dead end, since Alessandro blocks the entrance I came in through and Macaria blocks the entrance they entered from. I’m reaching for the knife I have stored on the outside of my bag.
“You killed Holly,” I growl
“Yes,” Macaria nods “I don’t know if you’re heard of a little thing called the Hunger Games, but that’s what we’ve been up to.”
“Shut up!” I snap
“Well,” Macaria smiles “since we’ve got you here, I figure we should right a few wrongs. Yes, Alessandro?”
She looks over at Alessandro, who approaches with a smile, resting his elbow on Macaria’s shoulder
“Oh, I think it’s long overdue.”
“See,” Macaria says as she turns a knife in her fingers “our time was cut short before, and we didn’t get to play a game like we did with Holly.”
“Get out of my way, bitch,” I warn “I’m not kidding.”
“It’s okay, Eight,” Alessandro says “Macaria’s an artist.”
“Hey, Arlo, shall we play another game?” Macaria says
“Okay,” Alessandro says, turning to look at Macaria, brushing a piece of hair over her shoulder as he leans towards her neck “but this time I get to kill him.”
“Um...” I say “if you’re going to kill me can you do the flirting and PDA afterwards? I don’t mean to kill the vibe or whatever but it doesn’t feel like the time. You know, considering the whole murdering me thing.”
They ignore me, as Macaria passes Alessandro one of her knives, and they both start to approach me.
Macaria stands in front of me, pinning me against the wall. She raises her knife and gets to work, making a cut on my cheek following the line of my cheekbone. I cry out, and try to struggle against her grip. That’s when I see a necklace around Macaria’s neck. A locket. Holly’s.
“That necklace isn’t yours,” I snarl, furious
“Well, it’s not hers anymore,” Macaria says with a smile “it’s a trophy.”
That’s when she catches sight of the dreamcatcher necklace around my neck, the tribute token from my sister. She looks to Alessandro.
“What do you think?” she asks “do you want it?”
“Oh, no,” I say in a low voice “you won’t be taking this, and you’ll be giving back Holly’s necklace for a start.”
At that moment I pull the knife from where I had it stored on my backpack. There’s enough anger and adrenaline in me, plus the element of surprise that I’m able to rip the necklace from Macaria’s neck, charge past both of them, and run back towards my camp.
I’ll have to move camp immediately if I don’t want them to find me, but it’s a good start. At least I got away alive.
|
|
|
|
Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Jan 24, 2020 18:19:38 GMT -5
(Oh my goodness he mad.
Mega mad boi coming for the Careers woot woot.)
|
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jan 24, 2020 18:22:16 GMT -5
He won’t take any shit when it comes to his friends she had Holly’s necklace and he wasn’t about to let that happen. The ending wasn’t amazingly written but XD I tried)
|
|
|
|
Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Jan 25, 2020 13:44:20 GMT -5
When the Birds Take Flight
(Holly)
Things were starting to switch around in the rebel base. Relationships bloomed like pesky little flowers, and trust traded like passing glances. All of them trusted so easily, but never had I.
No, when your damaged like me, you never trust so simply. When you’re life is a toy, you don’t find joy in the company of those who toyed with you. I may have made amends with Macaria Slayte, but by no means did I consider her anymore of a friend to me than a peacekeeper. I talked to her, and sometimes enjoyed her peaceful company. But I always kept as watchful eye on her. After all, snakes never tend to change their habits, and are willing to strike at any time.
Perhaps that’s why I noticed her mannerisms change, noticed the soft, but vivid changes she was experiencing at that time. The bags around her eyes started to look like matching holes, just shades darker everyday. Her body, becoming just a tad bit skinnier. That faraway look, and the concern she experienced at times. I’ve suffered through loss so heart wrenching too, I know it wasn’t the first time she had been like this. But she wasn’t taking care of herself properly. Not sleeping, barely eating, always depressed. And that concern that came to life? I almost put money on the fact that she was experiencing her past trauma, seeing him hanging like a rag doll.
In the past, I found it hilarious when my abusers came to find torment in their lives. When Raine died in the games, I remember a little wicked grin on my face. I felt no remorse, I know I should have, but it was almost enjoyable to see people that hurt me so writhe in pain.
I was tempted to kill Lancaster myself. But he had children, and he didn’t leave them like he left me. So the very idea was out of the question. I may be immoral and selfish and downright horrible at times, but I had some compassion. Mostly due to Burton, who wormed his way into my heart, but I thought that was gone. He chose to leave, and I shouldn’t have cared.
But I did, like the foolish girl I was. I missed every heart wrenching day. The hours felt long, like when I was in the Capitol. And his sisters were reminders of him.
In the past few weeks, however, I gained a sweet follower. Someone so new and bewildering, that I could have expected his company had I dreamt it up in some fantastical way. Little Pascal took a liking to me, for some reason, and refused the company of anyone but his sister or I.
It was one of those days, he was tailing me like some duck, grabbing the tails of my cloak and pulling on it to get my attention. I snapped a glare at him, but it did nothing to deter a bright smile from forming on his face.
“Why don’t you go bother someone else?” I snapped. I may be kind when the situation permits, but in no matter was I a nice person. And I didn’t handle children well. Children, the epitomes of all I hated about my life. Innocence, love, and hope. I had none left.
“Auntie Hawwy!” He cooed, and I felt my eye twitch in return. I heard laughter behind me, and snapped a glare at Macaria. How dare she find pleasure in my torture? But her gaze softened at the kid.
“He wants you to pay attention to him, dear Panem, Holly, he’s been trying to get your attention for days.” She pointed out, and she wasn’t wrong. The annoying twerp had no idea was personal privacy was, he waddled like some lost pet after me. I had no idea what to do either. He wasn’t some cat that could be satisfied with a few pets and food. He wanted me to sing to him at night, he wanted to be by my side, day and night. And I had no idea why.
“That’s so cute,” I said, not meaning a word I had said, and glared down at the annoyance, “But I don’t do babysitting.”
“You know, I always took you for a hollow hearted asshole,” Oh, she brought up that little fiasco. Capitol loved dubbing me as some empty hearted thing, like I felt no emotions. It was one of the smart things they did, but still, the phrase stung a bit, “But being an ass to a kid, Holly? Now that’s low.”
“Well what the hell do you suggest I do?” I snapped back, a fury in my voice, as the kids insistent pulling on my little overcloak became harder. I wanted to go out on a walk. The others were having some picnic to bond or some crap, and while I had a little place in my heart for all of them, I wanted alone time.
“Take him with you. Talk to him. Get to know him. Act like a decent human being,” She grumbled a ‘for once’ under her breath and I snorted slightly. But she became stern, “Just talk to the kid. He’s more like you than you realize, he’s lost his family too, he’s lost everything too.”
“I thought he has a nuisance named Mallory,” I pointed out, but she gave me a stern glare and I shut up immediately.
“He just wants a friend, and he trusts you because you helped save him. Please stop being an ass for once in your life and bond with the kid.”
“Pwease?” We both sported a look to the small little...thing as he begged, staring at me with big, doe-like eyes. I groaned in frustration then, feeling terrible.
“Fine, wanna come on a walk with me, Pascal?” I questioned.
He beamed, and that little part of me that felt so dull filled with a bright burning feeling. I fought off a smile, remembering Macaria was there, but offered my hand to him. He took it in an iron grasp, laughing happily and merrily as he did so.
—
(Macaria)
I’m pretty sure that I’ve never seen Holly around a kid. Because if I had, I wouldn’t have ever foreseen how terrible she is with children. It’s almost like she despises them, and even I couldn’t even really fathom it. Sure, I found small little ducklings annoying when they wouldn’t leave you alone, but Pascal barely spoke, he just followed and silently tried to get her attention, ever polite and sweet.
When I watched her walk off, arms crossed, but a faint smile on her face, I felt a building hope that maybe she would open up some.
Other than that fiasco, my mind warred with itself. Ever since I lost Alessandro, I felt like I couldn’t eat, I felt so tired all the time, but never slept. I had experienced it all before, when my own sister helped me escape the quarantine zone in District 2, and when my mother had died. I knew Lucasta had as well, part of me knew as soon as she got sick.
But Alessandro was something that cut deep and wouldn’t leave. I had found some boys interesting before, I had seen them as interesting, sometimes annoying, but a true attachment never came with them. But Arlo’s shameless flirtations, and genuine concern regarding me made me realize that I could change. I changed for him. And he was gone.
And that part of me that had changed felt like it was going to fade away. I fought demons in my sleep. I wanted to fight them when I was awake.
“Macaria?” Someone beckoned me, causing me to turn and fix that small blond with a stare, her heterochromatic eyes narrowed at me, genuine concern and sass hid under that smart little gaze of her. She was a sassy, smart girl, resourceful, and downright manipulative. But she was also a good kid.
“Yes, Halina?” I responded, deciding to approach the younger past-career. She looked away quickly, a smile back on her face, dazzling as she clapped her hands together.
“We have a picnic, remember!” I know her statement was meant to be a question, but it was more of a command, those sharp eyes couldn’t fool anyone. But still, I laughed in a well-natured way, and followed.
It was a bit odd, in a manner, to see Halina so open around me. According to something Amadrya told me a while back, Halina did something before the arena opened in an almost betrayal. Macaria never asked for the details, because whenever she did, Amadrya got this sad look and would always fix Everest with some look of desperation. Like she wanted to change something but couldn’t.
Then again, anytime you asked Everest what happened in the Capitol, you got similar results. He just looked away if anyone mentioned the interviews.
Dear goodness, if you ever asked Ari about anything, he looked clueless. I figured out just recently that he was a bit alone after Robin’s little rendezvous meeting with Arlo and I. He joined the other group during the escape.
That left Halina, who just would change the topic, and Holly, who would savagely roast anything I said and make me feel a bit like an idiot. She was a sarcastic little ass.
“Uh, Yeah?” Again, That should have been a statement, but I asked it like a question, I couldn’t really do much else, to be frankly honest.
“Then what are you standing around for?” She snapped, smile falling momentarily, reminding me that the girl was prone to spurts of temperment.
I simply laughed, though it felt hollow, and followed after the smaller girl as she lead me outside to the peaceful little picnic. Everyone was there, tribute wise, except from Holly, who had claimed she ‘didn’t see the point in eating in the grass and inhaling dirt when we ate together everyday anyways’, her words, not mine.
But their conversation passed like a train past me, too many words to catch hold of. So I only gave short responses to stupid questions, or quirky snapbacks and teasing to the others. It was a rather fun ordeal.
But it was cut like butter, a loud static in the air, and I found myself immediately reaching for my walkie-talkie. Pressing a button on the side, I was alarmed by the horrified voice on the other line. Alistair had never sounded so panicked to me before. He was speaking so fast, I couldn’t understand a word he was saying. It was just static, like someone was interfering with the communication lines, someone, or something.
“What’s going on?” Amadrya questioned, standing up, already looking frantic, and concerned.
I fixed her with my sharpest deadpan look, glaring, “Shut up and maybe I’ll know.” I hissed, questioning why she was trying to interrupt the already hard to hear message.
We all waited for a few moments, for the static to clear, it didn’t, but I could pick up some frantic words now. So I took a deep breath, “Alistair, calm down, what’s going on?”
We all waited with baited breath as we heard the male take a deep breath in, but then he spoke, and I froze, “They who were here!” He started, seeming a bit more calm.
His comment created more questions than awnsers. I firmly glared down at the little device in my hands, “How do we know they know where were at?” She questioned then.
“Something’s going off on the detectors. Something’s near the base and Louden’s already called Diana. They want us to surrender.” He commented, some words jumbled, but Macaria filled them in as best as she could, “Diana’s trying to stall him until everyone’s hidden.”
“How much longer will that take?” Amadrya asked, already calm in the face of danger, and I thought it was a good question.
“It’s already done, the base is bunkered. But we couldn’t get a hold of you guys for a while. I need you guys to listen carefully-“
The words barely left his mouth, he was still talking, but a hovercraft was floating, and just like that, fireworks and fire were lighting up the already brightened sky.
|
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jan 25, 2020 16:07:24 GMT -5
Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall It’s another sleepless night in the Arena, and I’m throwing another log on the fire, hardly even paying attention to what I’m doing. Tears are streaming down my cheeks, and I bury my face in my hands. Now it’s just me, Alessandro and Sapphire and the others have left. We’re vulnerable now that the pack is split, but that’s not why I’m crying. I’m crying for a lot of reasons, guilt not the least of them.
It’s time for Alessandro’s watch, and he stirs without me even having to wake him. I try my best to wipe the tears before he sees me because even though I trust him more than anyone, I’m not so stupid as to think it’s a good idea to show this kind of vulnerability in the Games. Alessandro and I know where we stand, at least; what we’re doing is just a bit of fun, entertainment really. But when the time comes we’ll kill one another like we would anyone else.
That’s the understanding, anyway. The reality is somewhat different, for me if not for him.
As he stirs, I catch his eye.
“You should go back to sleep,” I say softly “you have to get your strength back, get your ankle better.”
He rises, approaching and taking a seat next to me at the piece of wall I’m sitting against. His movements are slow, painful. I hate what Amadrya did to him. I’ll get that bitch back for this, mark my words.
“Forget about my stupid ankle,” he says, searching my face “what’s wrong?”
Fresh tears flow down my face then, and all I can do is shake my head and bury my head in his shoulder.
“I’m a monster,” I say through sobs “what I did to Alandria today, what I would have done if Darrow hadn’t stopped me...I do the most horrible things and I’m not even strong enough to own them. I just sit and sob like a child. What kind of disgusting person am I?”
“You’re not a monster,” Arlo assures me
“I am,” I reply
“No,” he says, firmly and more insistently “you’re not.”
I pause, wiping my eyes as I lean back to look at him, a little bit of surprise registering on my face.
“You really think so, don’t you?” I ask quietly
“As a matter of fact, I do,” Arlo says “but you should get some sleep. You’re overtired and it’s bad enough me being injured without you not being on your top form.”
“I can’t,” I murmur hopelessly “the nightmares...”
The nightmares are worse than anything in my waking days. Worse than the endless days trapped among these hellish dusty ruins, doing things that make me despise myself. At night my worst fears and darkest memories come for me. Watching my mother and sister waste away. Wandering the streets, starving. The horrible changes I saw in myself in the Academy. Hurting Burton and Holly. Killing Astrape.
“It’s okay,” Arlo says, shushing me “you don’t have to sleep then. I’ll stay here with you.”
“You will?”
“Of course,” he says “dusk til dawn if I have to.”
——————
I’m watching the screen in the Capitol cell, and my heart drops the moment I see his face. He is proud but defeated. Dignity in the face of death. The boy who taught me that I was wrong to think that people don’t change. He made me want to change, made me want to be better than I am. Nobody had ever done that before.
“Arlo,” I say, my voice coming out as a whisper to the screen, a void from which he cannot hear me.
As heartbroken as I am, the tears falling already, I feel a surge of pride at his last words. Good riddance. He is undaunted, brave, defiant. Everything I want to be, wish I could be. Everything he makes me want to be.
“I’ll be with you from dusk til dawn,” I say, recalling the words he said in the Arena
I wish I could hold him, hug him, tell him it’s going to be okay. That he doesn’t have to be afraid. That I love him. That he isn’t alone.
I’m sobbing openly now, tears falling in silvery rivers. I know I shriek when it drops, some inhuman sound I didn’t know I was capable of making. And then he looks into the camera, and mouths words that break my heart all the more. Because I know they’re meant for me. I, who don’t deserve him, am the last person he’s thinking about when he dies.
“I love you,” he’s mouthing
And I can see in his face that he doesn’t know if I’m listening. That he’s speaking out into a void and will never know if I saw. Or what my response would be. It feels like he’s searching for me out there somewhere.
“Baby,‘I’m right here!” I scream out, as if he could here
I break down from just tears into shuddering, gulping sobs then.
“I love you, too,”
And that was his downfall. Nobody who loves me lives, I learned that a long time ago. A cruel twist of fate, but then fate is cruel. Something else I learned. And what is the point, then, in trying to be good? In being loving and kind? Because it opens you up to hurt you don’t deserve, and hurt you can inflict on others.
At least if you’re bad you can believe in karma. If you get hurt you can tell yourself you deserve it. That way the universe is fair, it has its order. All being good has done is taught me about its futility, about a world that doesn’t care and never will. A universe that only seems to want to take.
I loved him, and it was the greatest joy and the worst mistake of my life.
————————
“You’re depressed.”
Holly has cornered me in my room, just about the only place I can’t run from her. I guess it is obvious by this point. I’ve lost weight, I’ve gone quieter than usual, I spend more time alone than I ever used to. I don’t sleep anymore, because the nightmares are worse than ever.
All I see is him, hanging limp. A boy who used to be strong, a boy who was the only person I’d opened my heart to in a decade. A boy who was my only reason for believing in goodness.
“And the sky is blue,” I respond “what do you want me to do about it?”
“I want you to get angry,” Holly says, crossing her arms
“What?” I ask, confused
“I want you to get angry, for God’s sake!” Holly blurts “I know you are depressed, and you lost Arlo, and it hurts. But I know you, or at least I like to think I do. What you need to do is channel that emotion. Instead of pitying yourself because you lost Alessandro, use it! Get angry at the universe, because it’s shit! It doesn’t care and it throws shit at you that sometimes you can’t handle. Get out of your room, and do something about all this!”
She grabs my wrist and starts pulling my out of the room, down the corridor
“Where are we going?” I ask
“Training,” Holly says “we’re going to get you strong and healthy again, we’re going to give you something to focus on instead of how sad you feel, and then we’re going to take down Louden.”
I stop, forcing Holly to do so as well. Wordlessly, I wrap her in a hug.
“Thank you,” I say as I pull away
“Listen don’t get it twisted, I still don’t like you,” Holly responds
“No, but you care,”
Holly just rolls her eyes, but aa she turns around to lead me down the hallways again, I swear I see a smile on her face for a moment.
——————
We’re in the Capitol, on a mission with the rest of the team. Officially our goal is to sneak in and disable the Capitol’s television and internal communications. But Holy and I have made an agreement to split off from the group at the first opportunity and then to find and kill Louden.
We’re among a crowd in the main square, who are pushing and jostling all around us. There are peacekeepers at the entrance of the building the team and I have to get into. They’re some distance back in the crowd. They’re going to need a distraction to get in, and at least if Holly and I are doing that when they go in it gives us the chance to sneak off and find Louden, since the group will separate.
But how to do it?
That’s when I turn to Holly, having had an idea.
“Punch me in the face,” I say quickly
“What?” Holly asks, understandably confused and a little frustrated because she has no idea what’s going on
“Didn’t you hear me?” I said “punch me in the face.”
That’s when holly sees the guards, and realises my plan. She turns to me and squares up, readying her fists.
“I always hear ‘punch me’ when you’re talking,” Holly says with a smile “but it’s usually subtext.”
“Just hurry up and punch me!” I snap
And she does, hard enough that I know I’m at the very least going to have an ugly bruise tomorrow.
“Was that good?” Holly asks “did it look real? Should I do it again?”
“No!”
“I heard do it again,” she says with a shrug
She does, which of course I take as my cue to punch her in return. Soon enough we have what looks like a realistic fight, enough to draw the peacekeepers’ attention as they begin to fight through the crowd to get to us. By the time they get here we’ll be gone, and our friends will have gotten inside.
——————
Our mission did not work out, to say the least. Which is why I find myself in a grey room, artificially lit with one flickering light, and a peacekeeper pointing a gun at my head. Louden stands beside him, a smirk on his face.
“Please,” I say “I won’t cause any more trouble. I won’t think anymore, I won’t breathe another word.”
I’m reverting back to my old self. The old me who was broken by the academy into submission, into giving up my values. I might seem strong, but underneath it is someone who has been taught to give in. Submissiveness and obedience towards the authority that is the Capitol.
I’ve only just started trying to change, they can’t kill me yet. Not when I’m so close. Not when I finally know who I am and what’s important to me. I wish I could be better than the scared girl I am now, I wish I could be better. I wish I could be like Alessandro was and face this with defiance. But the truth is I don’t have that in me anymore. Alessandro believed in the rebellion, he believed that he was doing the right thing and it would lay off. I don’t believe goodness is worth anything any more. All the noble intentions in the world won’t change anything now. No amount of defiance will help the rebellion or me anymore.
All I have is fear, and it’s taking over me.
“Please,” I beg, hanging my head “I’m scared.”
That’s when I realise something. My walkie talkie sits in Louden’s hand, turned on. He’s transmitting all of this to my friends. Who will know what a fraud I am. Holly will be disappointed, knowing I’m not the person she thought I was. I’m not the person who could be strong like Holly, I never have been. I’m weak, otherwise the Capitol wouldn’t have broken me. I tried to change, but it was too late.
It’s too late.
The gun goes off |
|
|
|
Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Jan 26, 2020 0:35:09 GMT -5
Now The Feathers Fall
I found myself in pleasant company, to be quite frank. As I stepped around old dead logs, enjoying the peaceful call of nature, I kept hands with a softly spoken, wide eyed and smiling Pascal. It made me quite happy, to make a friend so carelessly. Back in District 8, I had a reputation of being bad luck. That being, no one let me be around their kids, no one trusted me. And I never had any interest in children.
I never even knew what it felt like to love someone before I met Burton. Before that, I didn’t believe in love, I always saw that as lust. But I don’t see him as attractive, I don’t see anyone like that. I just like his personality, and his caring for his family, his friends. And deep down I understand what he’s doing.
It’s just hard. It’s hard not to let myself spiral over it. But I’m grounded now, with my little buddy. He’s pleasant company, I’m sure his sister is too. But she’s always around Everest, or in the medical bay, getting a check up. I feel bad for the kids, I sympathize with them just like I sympathize with Macaria. They lost their family, and automatically, I picked up on them easier. Orphans, like myself.
“Hawwy?” I internally cringe, children speak has always annoyed me. But it’s disconcertingly cute all the same. He’s behind this big log I just climbed over, and he looks so frightened of it.
I laughed, despite myself, intrigued by his childish fears and wonders. Gently, I offered a hand, he took it, and I helped him climb the spiteful log. It was there that we came to a little pond.
“You wook sad.” He pointed out, bluntly in his child-speech, and I immediately turn to look at him. People didn’t tend to point such things out, not so bluntly, to me. Never had a child.
I felt my forlorn gaze cast over that pond. It reminded me much of the arena, the note, when Everest and Amadrya got caught. I didn’t even realize I had my gaze so glazed over for a long while. I ignored his question, though everything flashed again.
I couldn’t escape this arena, could I? It’s so stormy, dark, and an air of danger is there. Off a distance, rain is pouring like acid.
It’s out of nowhere when that canon goes off. It’s chilling, a reminder that this isn’t normal. And I’m about a block from the little shelter I had built with Burton. With those little pesky creatures I’d have to kill sooner or later.
But they saved me. And I didn’t know how I could kill them. I had a feeling that rain was meant to handle that little issue.
So as anysane person would have gone, I took off running the opposite way of the rain. It’s still a while off, that was obvious to tell. But not long, and I had a lingering doubt that I wouldn’t make it back.
As I had watched the ground, scrambling over the rubble, not as graceful as I used to be. The wounds still hurt, from the stupid little career girl. I still remember those little knicks digging into my skin. So silly too, so funny, Louden picked up a few mannerisms from her for his torture.
But still, I made it back, ready to run in, leave Halina out there to die. Though I doubted she was even out there. I didn’t see tracks, and while I wasn’t a hunter, I wasn’t stupid person either. But out of the corner of my eye, a little parachute floated down. Like it was there just for me.
It was. I later learned.
But when it got close enough to me, I jumped up, roughly snatching it from the air, snaring it in my fingers. It was surprisingly light.
I had been so disappointed to see the rocks inside it. Such a tease, really. I wonder who paid to play such a cruel joke. But by accident, I turned the little canister around.
On the back, a folded piece of paper lie. It was taped close, like a card I had seen to some of my bosses back in eight. I plucked it open.
I remember dropping the canister, horrified at the very idea of what the little card told me me to do.
And when I looked up, trying to find a camera. It kind of clicked for me, that one of those messages gave me the clue I needed. But I couldn’t do what they wanted. I was a caged bird for far too long.
I had ripped the note in half, clean, like cutting fabric, ripping a nice, clean line. And I stuffed the one cursed end in that amulet. I had no idea why I kept it. What a reminder.
And I remember sitting in our hideout, staring out the window. Seeing the arena open, and being forced to reckon with the true message behind that little note. I could have prevented this.
Running, like a doe, frightened for myself, seeing the hovercraft, but not needing to see it. I knew the clearing was a mistake, but what could I have done to stop them. I had went in, leaving behind others to face the fate I thought I could escape. People who saved me.
But I met that end to. The water, like a suffocating cage. Like that cage. I wanted out. I wanted out.
I want out.
“Holly?” Now that was so much clearer. I don’t even look at him as I come back to my senses. I kneeling in the pond, my fists dug in. I don’t really remember how I got there either. I just see the tears streaming down my cheeks, a stark reflection. All of them are reminders. And now they’ll know. As soon as Burton contacts them. Or returns.
“Yeah Pascal?” I question, forcing that stupid croak from my throat, my eyes staring him down. But he hadn’t been looking at me. His wide eyes were on the horizon.
No, not the horizon. He’s looking back at the base.
And I turned my head to look to. I felt my eyes bug, staring at the base. Fire, starting to spread in the forest. Hovercrafts droning above, ready to pluck out survivors.
A few things register to me at that time. The first is that I was a coward last time I dealt with a situation like this, selfishly placing myself before others.
The second is that the base is pretty damaged. Missiled had struck it. And about at that moment, I realize the other tributes were going on some stupid picnic.
Lastly, I kindly realize that I’m in no condition to go galavanting off to help fight these idiots off. I’m in no position to run for safety.
“Mallory?” He questioned beside me, heartbreakingly, and I realized another thing yet.
I can’t leave, I have a kid with me, and his sister is back in that mess. Hovercrafts are everywhere.
And oh yeah, that’s fire surrounding us.
—
(Amadrya)
This isn’t good at all, just to clarify. We’re running from some hovercrafts and I don’t like the memories this brings up. I can tell the others don’t. My feel are landing on the ground in tandem with Everest, whose eyes are trained on me.
“We have to stick together!” I yelled out to my frightened companions. Well, at least to Halina and Ari. Everest won’t leave my side. And Macaria has this dainty smirk as she flips off a hovercraft above us. It’s like some old fire is back in her, despite this horrible situation.
“What the hell has you so happy?” I snap at her, unable to hold back that anger I get from having watched her.
“If we run and scatter like frightened deer, they win,” she barked back, glaring at me with those sharp eyes, “If we fight back, we avenge Alessandro. We avenge ourselves and what they did to us. Don’t you see Amadrya?” She commented, “We can’t just run from this. They’re here for us, they’re going to chase and hunt us.”
“It’s the Capitol Macaria! They have the numbers, Incase you didn’t realize!” I snapped back at her, fuming slightly at this whole talk. We didn’t have time to argue. But here we were, doing it.
“Advantage doesn’t come in numbers, it comes in strategy.” She points out, “We can’t run, we need to get back to the rebel base. If we run, they won’t stop until they get us. If we get back, we continue the revolution. Sure, we’ll fight some, but when has that ever bothered us?”
I couldn’t believe it, out of all of us, it was the past murderous career that would give the pep talk. The depressed girl who lost more than any of us.
“She’s not wrong.” Ari points out, staring at me. I may love Everest, and I may share Holly’s torturous experiences. But my trust in Ari is built from home. I nodded, looking back at the base.
“This won’t be easy,” Everest pointed out, cautionary glance on his face. But I already know this.
“I know,” I responded, “But Macaria’s right. We can’t just run, we have to get to the base.”
I found it odd, passing Halina, that the girl hadn’t put anything in. She just looked kind of frightened, and kind of excited for the thrill. It’s that duality she has, it’s so odd. Just like Macaria’s undying fire, Holly’s sarcastic nature, Ari’s quips and jokes, and Everest’s loving words.
—
(Macaria)
We followed Amadrya, she was strong, she would have a made a good leader had she been a bit more assertive. Then again, in the arena, she never would have had the chance.
Isn’t that just odd, how much I think back to the arena? How things could have changed.
Everytime I watch Holly, I see that guarded stare when she’s around me. She may pretend to like me, maybe even be an acquaintance, but she doesn’t trust me. Then again, I did draw on her with a knife like a canvas. I couldn’t blame her. And I felt sickened by my self.
And somehow, that makes something click for me. We’re nearing those hovercrafts, and I can spot the men waiting with guns and weapons of all sorts. I see their commanders, ordering them all around. They haven’t spotted us yet. But through the adrenaline, it seems we all let something slip our mind.
“Oh no,” I paled, feeling a horrible feeling in my gut. “Holly’s alone.”
“I know,” I hear Everest speak, eying me with an odd look. That brunette hair of his is all shaggy right now, drooping over his head like an ugly mop.
“The forest is on fire.” I pointed out, and the rest of the group swings around to take a peak. Surely enough, the little hiking spot our resident snark ass took is burning like District 13 must have back in the day.
“Oh,” Ari intelligibly put in, his eyes widened ever so slightly. “That’s not good.”
I fixed him with a dirty glare.
“She can handle herself.” Amadrya said then, shaking her head, “We have enough to worry about!”
“Well, that’s fine and all,” oh I shouldn’t say this, I know it, I’m being too sassy, “Except she has a kid with her.”
The owlish looks I got from everyone made me sink back, holding my hands up slightly in attempt to calm them.
“You just thought to mention that just now because?” Amadrya started, and I could tell she was mad. Her eyes are narrowed.
“Uh, well, you see-“ I begin, but I’m interrupted by the whizzing of a bullet that soars between Amadrya and I.
—
(Holly)
I had never coughed so much in my life. I felt like my throat was bleeding, and to be be sincerely honest, it probably was.
I had a scarf at the beggining of this, but I gave that to Pascal to cover his nose and mouth. The weak coughs that erupt from the small boy warn me that while he’s inhaling some smoke, it’s not much.
It’s horrifying, watching flames flicker, but I had never feared fire. No, at this point, I feared water more than fire. And my little moment a few moments ago reminded me that I was still way too comfortable with being in it’s presence. I had an audience too, which bites.
By the time I’m at the tree line, near the rebel base, I see the fighting happen. The rebel forces are fighting, amongst the mist, I see my friends there. I’m glad to see them all alive and breathing.
But I can’t just walk into the fight with a boy the size of a medium sized dog waddling after me. No, I have to find a way around the fighting. That’s when I spotted a peacekeeper pointing his gun in my direction, and I had immediately ducked, pulling Pascal down roughly, hugging him to me.
I’m terrified. I’m honestly terrified. I know the guy didn’t see me. He could have easily killed me if he had. But now I’m piecing my live back together, and I don’t want to lose it.
I’m not that girl anymore who would have thrown her life to the wind just for the sake of a boy. I’m not that suicidal girl with no care for myself.
I have too much to lose now.
“Shh,” I felt Pascal shaking, and frantically tried to comfort him by hugging him closer to myself, “I won’t let them get you.”
I then stand, leaving him to hide, spotting a peacekeeper’s body nearby, a gun just laying there beside him. Still in his hand’s, it’s kind of gross. But I get it still. But I freeze, something catching the corner of my eye. I hear this gunshot, see a body fall, and Pascal looks so scared, and it seems someone has responded to my earlier comment.
“Too late.” I hear a beckon before him. And I choke back a scream.
—
(Macaria)
When we got to the fighting, we were delighted to see Alistair and Diana leading some rebels into the fight. Protecting the base. All of us immediately got to our weapons, starting to fight.
I had my knives, I was engaged in a fight with a peacekeeper, but a swift knife to the chest sends him to the ground. I can’t really care if they die. Not really. They willingly choose to work for Louden, when they know another cause will greatfully welcome him.
I turn to make work on another when I spot Halina hovering over someone. And that’s when Panic sets in.
Ari’s on the ground, a bulletwound in his shoulder, very close to his heart, and he’s out cold. Halina in frantically calling his name, but I’m deafened by what I spot.
There, behind her, a peacekeeper sits by the tree line, he seems to be speaking. He’s facing the tree line, and I spot a little boy there, attempting to hide, he’s about to fire that gun. He’s about to kill Pascal.
But then I freeze, watching as Halina’s fiery eyes narrowed at the male. She’s crappy at throwing knives, she’s better with harpoons, but she’s dealing with what she can. The knife barely skims the skin of the guys leg, but he’s already facing back.
I can’t even warn her, he turns to face her, and with no hesitance in his eyes, he fires the gun and the bullet settles into her stomach. She rocketed down before I can reach her, I was already running for her though. It seems that Amadrya and Everest finally noticed what’s happened. Amadrya’s hands immediately fly to her mouth, and Everest is picking up his gun.
I immediately aim a knife at the male, feeling tears stinging my eyes. He taking everything I had left. But I freeze as I hear yet another gunshot.
The man is down, and behind him, I see Holly standing there, tears in her own eyes, a dirty look on her face of anger, and fear. She has ash everywhere on her, and her looked singed. But she had the gun help up, her eyes narrowed, and as soon as his body hit the ground, she dropped the gun. Call it a hunch, but I don’t think she’s ever really been the one to end a life, until now. But not guilt seems to be there’s, just shock, and anguish.
She and I make a quick glance at one another, and I spot almost something snapping in her, but then we’re racing to meet our two fallen companions. Pascal is behind her, safely hidden.
Amadrya is already beside both Ari and Halina. Ari’s out cold, but not dead. He looks so close to it though. He needs help, and soon.
Beside him, Halina’s curled up, groaning out in pain, tears in her own eyes. A reflection of my own. She’s in so much pain, and she doesn’t deserve it.
I spot where the bullet hit, and I’m immediately folded in on myself, reaching out to the tribute I had started to see like a little sister. It’s imbedded in her stomach.
She looks up at me, with those wild fearful dual-natured eyes of her, “I don’t want to die.”
I can’t tell her she won’t, I can’t lie to her.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, hugging her closer to me. “I know you don’t.”
“Please, I-I-“ She’s a sobbing mess, eyes closed in pain now, “I don’t want to-Macaria, it hurts.”
She opened those eyes again, staring at me, but they’re already losing their shine. And I wonder if I’m doomed to see everyone I love waste away.
“She doesn’t deserve this,” Amadrya choked out beside me, and I nodded.
“I know,” I whispered.
I’m about to take my knife and put the poor girl out of her misery, but her hand stops me.
“Let me do it,” Halina begged, eyes wide. “I wa-want to die on my o-own terms.”
I forced a smile, it’s not suicide, not really, she’s always been stubborn. It’s her last wish, and I can’t not grant her it.
She doesn’t wait for an answer, she plucks the knife from my hands. But she fixes me with a genuine smile.
“Don’t give up hope, please,” she begs. And I choke out a cry.
“Honey, I don’t think-“ I start, the endearment used to mean so much hate when I used it. But it’s genuine. How can I keep up hope?
“Please, try. I believed in you. Believe in you too.” I can’t say no. Not to her.
“I’ll try,” I agree, and she nods, before pointing away. I nod, turning, to look away from her, closing my eyes as the tears leak through.
I cover my ears like a frightened child when I hear the knife crushing through bone. But then there’s nothing at all.
The silence is more of a fright then anything else.
(I have never actually cried while writing a chapter. And I have done so now.) |
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jan 26, 2020 17:03:30 GMT -5
I’m in the rebel base, talking in the hallway with one of the rebels. A boy our age from District 5. I know his father is a victor, which means he and his father both have significant influence with Diana and Alistair. Victors always make extensive contacts in the Capitol. And Diana and Alistair haven’t been listening lately when I’ve been asking them to put all of us tribute kids into an actual mission. I need something more than training, I’m going stir crazy in here, too stuck in my own head. And my head isn’t exactly my favourite place since I lost Alessandro.
So I do the only thing I know how, and flirt a little. Bat my eyelashes, twirl my hair. Touch him on the arm. This all results in him agreeing to talk to Alistair and Diana, and leaving with a very smug grin on his face.
But as soon as he’s gone I realise someone was watching the whole exchange. Holly, who was leaning against the wall, moves to approach me. Fixing me with those fiery green eyes and crossing her arms.
“Holy shit,” she says, her voice laced with mock surprise, even admiration “I had no idea just how little shame you had.”
“What?” I ask, narrowing my eyes
“Alessandro is barely cold and here you are looking for another boy toy, that’s what!” she snaps
“I was just trying to get him to talk to Diana and Alistair about putting us on a mission,” I explain “I don’t care about him really.”
“Well, it sure looks like what you did with Alessandro. You know, you have the nerve to call me hollow. But I had you figured out from the start. You’re shallow, vacuous and fickle. You flirt with guys to get what you want and dispose of them as soon as their purpose is served. You would have killed Alessandro as soon as he had done his job of splitting the career pack up, killing them for you without you having to get your hands dirty and lose sponsors by turning on the group. You played dumb because you assumed everyone else is just as stupid, but I’m not. I knew your game right from when I met you. And I tell you what, at least I’m not a heartless bitch like you. At least I cared. But you don’t care about that boy. And you never cared about Alessandro, did you?”
And that’s when I lose it, my own eyes blazing with anger as I hold up my hand. Two rings adorn my fingers, both gold. One, a delicate golden band with intricate designs on it and a small diamond, was my mother’s. it’s been in my family for years, which is how we came to own such a beautiful and expensive thing. My mother’s family had been very well off but she married my father and was disowned by them. But she kept her ring. On another finger is a gold ring with a rune in it, and a ruby for Alessandro’s birth month. He told me it was given to him by his mom after his father left. His mother seemed proud to see it on my hand at his funeral, and bade me keep it even when I offered to return it to her.
“Would I have kept this if I didn’t care? I loved him, Holly. He made me better, so much better. He was the only person I’d opened my heart to in a decade. And watched him hang like a limp doll, watched him gasping for breath he would never get. And I wished with every ounce of my being that it could have been me instead because he didn’t deserve to die but I did. If anyone did, it was me. I deserved to die, and still do. But I’m alive still, and the least I can do is remember him. What I felt for him was real. And it broke my heart to lose him. So don’t you dare tell me I didn’t care.”
There’s only silence from Holly then as I put my hand back down again, and take a step closer to her.
“Do you think I don’t know what everyone says about me? Do you think I can’t tell what they think?” I challenge “I see the hatred in your eyes, and the fear in Burton’s whenever he sees me holding one of my knives. I see Carlo falling every time I close my eyes, I see you covered in blood, I see Burton screaming. I see Arlo hanging. I know you think I’m a bitch. I remember being mocked at the academy, everyone gossiping about how I was an orphan and I didn’t have anywhere to go when they left for home. They didn’t know or care about how I’d watched my mother and sister waste away before my eyes.
And then when I got older, I saw the way the boys stared at me. The way the tutors would tell me I would do well in the Games, because I was pretty. Good looks, they said, would go a long way. A little wink, a well-placed smile. I was like a piece of meat to them, and I always have been. I was to that boy I was just talking to. I was never appreciated for my talents, not like Everest. Hell, he’s a better career than I am. Apart from knife throwing I’m not really anything special. The others would beat me in a fight any day. The only person who cared about me for more than what I looked like was Alessandro. So you’ll forgive me for doing what I was taught to do in order to get something when nobody cares what you have to say because they’re too busy staring a foot south of your face like that kid was.”
Holly is silent for a moment, looking at me with curiosity and recognition. She’s looking at me in a completely different light now, I can tell.
“You know,” she says “you don’t have to do that anymore. I might hate you, but I kind of respect you and you’re better than that bullshit.”
—————
I’m sitting outside, staring into the treeline. It amazes me, because we don’t really have trees in District 2. It’s all hard, unforgiving, craggy rock. Not unlike the people, cold and tough and hardy. Trees are beautiful in a way I didn’t understand before. I understand Amadrya a little more now. She knows all the kinds of trees I can see in the forest here. Maybe she could show me how to climb them like she does.
It’s a couple of days since we lost Halina, and Ari got hurt. I’ve withdrawn more from the group, even more than before. I need to be alone. But I don’t know how to process this, especially not on my own. I saw Halina like a little sister, and if I’d just been faster with my response she would never have been in the firing line.
I look round when I hear footsteps to see Holly approaching, then sitting down to join me.
“I never understood you before,” Holly says as she stares into the distance
“I didn’t understand me either, it’s fine,” I say “but just to clarify, what do you mean specifically?”
“Killing people,” Holly responds
“Oh,” I sigh “that.”
“I’ve never done that before,” Holly admits “how do you...?”
She trails off, unable to find the words or unwilling to say them. But I know what she means
“You don’t,” I say “but you have the advantage that you killed because you were trying to do the right thing. You killed in defence of Halina, not to mention of a toddler you were protecting. As killing goes, it’s not so bad.”
“It doesn’t feel that way,” she confides
“I know.” I nod
“At least we’re equal now, you and I,” Holly says “we’ve both killed.”
But now she actually turns to me, takes in my face for a moment.
“How are you doing?” she asks “with Halina and everything?”
“Badly,” I scoff “I just... I feel like I’m cursed. Like everyone I dare to get close to ends up dying. Everything I touch turns to shit. Halina, we promised the world to her. Safety, friends, a cause to fight for. And it all turned out to be a lie. I just... I don’t want to dare start to care again.”
“I didn’t think you were the kind of girl to believe in curses and superstition,” Holly comments, looking me up and down
“I believe in what I see,” I reply “and you can’t deny there’s a pattern in my life.”
“I don’t believe you’re cursed,” Holly shrugs “you’re an asshole, but you’re an unlucky asshole, not a cursed one.”
I smile at that, and there’s a moment of silence between us before I speak up again
“I’ll help you,” I offer “you know, to work through killing that guy and everything.”
“Thank you,” Holly says “and I’ll help you get through grieving for Halina.”
I look at her, offer her a smile. The most genuine one since I last smiled at Alessandro.
“Thank you.”
|
|
|
|
Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Jan 26, 2020 19:38:51 GMT -5
Freedom Costs a Price
It’s so numb and dull. A pain, really, callousness frightening and tying around our hearts like ribbons. At least, it tied around mine.
I didn’t need to go and cry like them. I kind of remained a bit reclusive, mourning in silence because of my strength. It hurt, because I opened up again. Everyone I opened up to ended up dead.
It was so wierd, too, when Diana approached us a week after the battle. I dare not make any remembrance of Halina’s sad funeral. I couldn’t even look at Diana and Alistair’s guilty looks as they gave speeches about her. I couldn’t even recall my own speech.
I’m in the rebel base, talking in the hallway with one of the rebels. A boy our age from District 5. I know his father is a victor, which means he and his father both have significant influence with Diana and Alistair. Victors always make extensive contacts in the Capitol. And Diana and Alistair haven’t been listening lately when I’ve been asking them to put all of us tribute kids into an actual mission. I need something more than training, I’m going stir crazy in here, too stuck in my own head. And my head isn’t exactly my favourite place since I lost Alessandro.
So I do the only thing I know how, and flirt a little. Bat my eyelashes, twirl my hair. Touch him on the arm. This all results in him agreeing to talk to Alistair and Diana, and leaving with a very smug grin on his face.
But as soon as he’s gone I realise someone was watching the whole exchange. Holly, who was leaning against the wall, moves to approach me. Fixing me with those fiery green eyes and crossing her arms.
“Holy shit,” she says, her voice laced with mock surprise, even admiration “I had no idea just how little shame you had.”
“What?” I ask, narrowing my eyes
“Alessandro is barely cold and here you are looking for another boy toy, that’s what!” she snaps
“I was just trying to get him to talk to Diana and Alistair about putting us on a mission,” I explain “I don’t care about him really.”
“Well, it sure looks like what you did with Alessandro. You know, you have the nerve to call me hollow. But I had you figured out from the start. You’re shallow, vacuous and fickle. You flirt with guys to get what you want and dispose of them as soon as their purpose is served. You would have killed Alessandro as soon as he had done his job of splitting the career pack up, killing them for you without you having to get your hands dirty and lose sponsors by turning on the group. You played dumb because you assumed everyone else is just as stupid, but I’m not. I knew your game right from when I met you. And I tell you what, at least I’m not a heartless bitch like you. At least I cared. But you don’t care about that boy. And you never cared about Alessandro, did you?”
And that’s when I lose it, my own eyes blazing with anger as I hold up my hand. Two rings adorn my fingers, both gold. One, a delicate golden band with intricate designs on it and a small diamond, was my mother’s. it’s been in my family for years, which is how we came to own such a beautiful and expensive thing. My mother’s family had been very well off but she married my father and was disowned by them. But she kept her ring. On another finger is a gold ring with a rune in it, and a ruby for Alessandro’s birth month. He told me it was given to him by his mom after his father left. His mother seemed proud to see it on my hand at his funeral, and bade me keep it even when I offered to return it to her.
“Would I have kept this if I didn’t care? I loved him, Holly. He made me better, so much better. He was the only person I’d opened my heart to in a decade. And watched him hang like a limp doll, watched him gasping for breath he would never get. And I wished with every ounce of my being that it could have been me instead because he didn’t deserve to die but I did. If anyone did, it was me. I deserved to die, and still do. But I’m alive still, and the least I can do is remember him. What I felt for him was real. And it broke my heart to lose him. So don’t you dare tell me I didn’t care.”
There’s only silence from Holly then as I put my hand back down again, and take a step closer to her.
“Do you think I don’t know what everyone says about me? Do you think I can’t tell what they think?” I challenge “I see the hatred in your eyes, and the fear in Burton’s whenever he sees me holding one of my knives. I see Carlo falling every time I close my eyes, I see you covered in blood, I see Burton screaming. I see Arlo hanging. I know you think I’m a bitch. I remember being mocked at the academy, everyone gossiping about how I was an orphan and I didn’t have anywhere to go when they left for home. They didn’t know or care about how I’d watched my mother and sister waste away before my eyes.
And then when I got older, I saw the way the boys stared at me. The way the tutors would tell me I would do well in the Games, because I was pretty. Good looks, they said, would go a long way. A little wink, a well-placed smile. I was like a piece of meat to them, and I always have been. I was to that boy I was just talking to. I was never appreciated for my talents, not like Everest. Hell, he’s a better career than I am. Apart from knife throwing I’m not really anything special. The others would beat me in a fight any day. The only person who cared about me for more than what I looked like was Alessandro. So you’ll forgive me for doing what I was taught to do in order to get something when nobody cares what you have to say because they’re too busy staring a foot south of your face like that kid was.”
Holly is silent for a moment, looking at me with curiosity and recognition. She’s looking at me in a completely different light now, I can tell.
“You know,” she says “you don’t have to do that anymore. I might hate you, but I kind of respect you and you’re better than that bullshit.”
It’s like that for a few moments, just her little glare fixed on me, and my own fiery temper. Without a moments notice she swings around, and walks away from me.
I glared at her form, but then found myself catching up with her words. Maybe I was becoming even more hollow then she had. But she was wrong about me.
And to think we made any progress at all.
—
(Holly)
It’s a while after Halina’s death, and just a while after the wholesome little lot of BS I get when I see Macaria. Caring? Goodness, everyone though I was the hollow one in this foresaken base. None of them knew the half of it.
I’m going to meet with Diana and Alistair, our little hidden meetings. Like the ones they had with Burton. But it’s not prepping me on some castaway mission. No, it’s talking about the past.
Today, I’m getting to talk to Burton. Which I usually would have been excited for. But I still felt iffy on the whole thing. He chose to leave me, he knew how I felt about it. But that wasn’t what got me,
It’s the stupid stupid action of keeping the note in that stupid amulet. I’m an idiot. Such a stupid, stupid person. And the worst part? He’s going to be so confused about the ominous message, and no lie I’ve thought up explains it.
And if he learns the truth? What will he do? I’m scared for him, that’s what. I’ve jeopardized him by sharing that knowledge.
My errant thoughts come to a halt as I spot Alistair waiting for me. He’s made sure no one is near, and extends a hand for me. I’ve learned one thing about the past stylist. He’s a fashionista, but chivalrous to a fault. He opens the door for me, and I look down in guilt.
“Well, Catullus-“ I winced at the name, feeling my hand unconsciously clench at my side, the nails biting into skin. Such a bad habit. One of my sad little methods when I got nervous. I can’t stand them calling him by that name. “-Holly is here, would you like to talk to her now?”
I spot the camera, this isn’t a simple voicechat. It’s a face to face conversation, virtually, of course. He looks so much different, and I feel this dismayed feeling in my gut. However, Alistair shooed me forward, lightly slapping my shoulder with a good natured grin on his face.
I only frown in response, before stepping forward. Though I stop when I get into range of the camera, brushing my hair back with my fingers. I’ve never felt self-conscious around Burton before, but my guilt is eating at me. Maybe not even guilt, maybe just...
Do I even want to give it a name?
Before either of us have a chance to greet one another, I glare back at the older mentors, “I’d like some privacy with my friend if you don’t mind.” I snapped, placing my hands on my hips before turning back.
Neither of us speak until the door is heard slamming shut. Once we’re sure no one’s in ear shot, I begin.
“They tell you about Halina and Ari?” I questioned, finding my voice back at that hollow tone, like it used to be before I had anything to live for.
The look on him is so telltale, he knows, he looks like he just cried. He nods, and it’s all I need to know.
“Ari’s still alive, but he’s not doing good. We don’t know if he’s going to make it.” I know I don’t look upset, I’m really not. I’m used to people leaving me, I’m not even impacted anymore. Such a silly thing, to cry over spoiled milk.
“I know, Holly.” He points out, and I don’t know if he’s talking about our friends or something else.
“I know.” I whispered back, crossing my arms for security. I never treasured physical contact, at least, I never gave anybody the chance to hug me or heaven-forbid kiss me. I just didn’t. But I sheltered myself in my walls, and one-by-one, this boy could destroy them with simple words.
“Hey, Alanadria,” He teasingly says, and I know he’s trying to make me feel better for some reason, “Don’t feel bad about killing the guy, he...he killed-!” He doesn’t get to finish.
I don’t know if he shuts up because of the look on my face, which I can bet is almost smug, or the words I say that leave him stunned. “Everyone thinks I feel bad about killing him, I don’t.” I put blandly, shrugging slightly, “It’s not the first time I’ve thought about it, it might be the first time I did it, but I don’t feel bad about it. I’m just scared about how it made me feel.”
“How it made you feel?” He questions, glancing at me for a moment.
“Happy. Glad. I was downright thrilled to see the sick son-of-a-bitch bleed out,” I snapped then, “You’re supposed to be feel bad about that stuff. I don’t, once I had a tormentor named Raine, when she died and I seen everyone mourning her, I thought it was hilarious.”
“Oh my-“ He starts, before narrowing his eyes, “Is it...a sexual kind of thrill?” He sounds so disgusted, and I downright laugh.
“Uh, no. I have no interest in...that kind of stuff,” I point out blandly, “No, it just makes me feel like I’m being avenged. I know it’s wrong, but-.”
“No, I kind of understand. You’re tired of being pushed around, of having things taken away. Someone killed someone you loved, and you would never feel guilty about avenging them.” He points out, surprising me because he sounds experienced with it even though I know he’s not, “I’d do the same if my sisters were hurt. Or you.”
Awe, he added me in there. I smiled brightly at him, but then I frown. In frame, I see his hands. The note’s there. And without realizing it, I look away. I barely see it, but his smile falls and he glances at his hand when I does. His eyes gain this bright recognition to them, before he steels his gaze.
“Holly, why did you have this note?” He questions.
It’s blunt, I have to give him that. But I find myself curling more into myself. “Oh, that’s funny, you found that, huh?”
Now I’m playing stupid, like Macaria would. I hate how much I’m becoming like her. Burton and I both know that I know he found it.
“What does it mean? I mean, it’s kind of obvious, but why? Where did you get it?” He takes a deep breath, “Why did you tell anyone about it?”
It’s all silent now. I find it harder to try and awnser him when he looks so different. I find his concern endearing and downright annoying.
“It is obvious,” I point out, settling on that response, though my fingers are biting deeper into the skin, this time on my arm, and I wince, “The arena, and I think that last one is pretty dang obvious, Burton!” I’m glaring up at him, instead of staring at the ground.
But he’s gaping, looking so concerned and that stupid note falls from his hands as he moves closer to the camera. It’s like he just then realizes he’s talking to a screen, because he looks so pathetic and lost at that moment, I chuckle softly.
“What?” I questioned, looking around, “Is there something on me?”
“You-you cut yourself, you’re bleeding...” oh, I really had to stop doing that. Though I’m slightly annoyed. All this worrying for him to get caught up on a tiny scratch.
“I’m fine, it happens sometimes.” I point out, “Not on purpose!” I then quickly correct, to ease his worries. “I just get stressed, sometimes, and I’m scared. I didn’t want to lose you because you found out about the note.”
His eyes are stilled concerned, but he nods, a genuine smile coming to his face, charming as always, “You could never lose me, Holly. We’re inseparable, some stupid threatening note won’t change that. I’m just concerned about why you had it, and why...why-“
“It was from the rebels,” I start, deciding maybe I should open up, “I got it when I got the note saying ‘Run’,” he nods, he remembers, that’s good. Unconsciously, I waver from foot to foot, as I continue the explanation, “It didn’t click for me until I saw the rift, what exactly it meant.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” He then presses.
I can’t awnser that, so I sigh, shaking slightly, “But I knew, I knew someone would be caught, and I didn’t tell anyone! If I would have just followed orders, Everest and Amadrya would have never ended up in that cell! Macaria would have never lost Alessandro! Halina would have never died and Ari wouldn’t be on his deathbed if I just followed the plan!”
He’s looking at me, frowning deeply, he looks like he wants to say more, but suddenly the screen goes black.
I freeze, backing up. I don’t feel good about that at all, and silent like I always am, I leave to find out the cause.
That’s when I hear whispered words wafting through the door, Alistair and Diana, talking away like crickets. They think I’m still talking to Burton. They don’t know the call cut off for some reason.
I’m about to open the door and tell them when I freeze, my hand settling on the door handle, “We have to get the trackers out.” I hear Diana say.
That’s very odd, Diana told us before that they were already gone and out. Macaria had asked about it once.
“Shouldn’t we worry about moving first, this isn’t safe location anymore.” Alistair points out. I already knew this it was a plan since we were attacked. Move to somewhere else, somewhere with less chance of being found. But how were we found in the first place?
I realize the awnser is in my wrist, and has been all along. All of us.
“That won’t do good if they can track them still, now would it?” Diana snaps back, but I’m trying not to hyperventilate as I stare back. If we still have the trackers in, what about Burton?
“No, but what about Catullus?” I hate that they call him that name, so stupid, so stupid! But I’m trying not to have a panic attack, already feeling tears in my eyes.
I anticipate what she says before she says it.
“It’s too late for him.”
Forcing myself to unfreeze and breathe deeply, I wait a few moments, until they sound like they’re about to come in. I then open the door, greeted by two shocked faces.
“Holly?” Diana starts, cheerful in her tone once more, but I ignore it.
“Dear, you Alright?” Alistair then questions when I look away from them both. Before I glare back at them.
”Freedom costs a price” I lift my fingers in exaggeration of quotes, my narrowed eyes faltering as I glare at them both, “You said make sure you’re the only one to pay it. I ignored it then, but I’m sure paying now, huh?” I snapped.
I leave them with the mimicry of the note, guilt, and an overload of an emotions pent up inside. I glare back at them, sharp as ever, “Do me a favor and get the hell away from us, you’ve put us all in enough danger. I don’t need your idiocracy placing my family in more.”
That night, I left.
|
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jan 27, 2020 9:54:50 GMT -5
I’ve just gotten back from an important event. A dinner party hosted by a man Diana and Alistair told me I need to get close to. He has connections with President Louden, and is apparently rather loose-tongued in the right circumstances. He could be an ideal person to help me find out what I need to know. The weak link in Louden’s inner circle that I can exploit. Perhaps, if I’m lucky, I can even become one of Louden’s confidantes myself. That’s the aim.
It was a stressful party; I was constantly afraid someone would recognise me or realise that something was off. Not to mention the peacekeepers this guy had guarding his property.
It was a night, however, of expensive clothes and good wine. Food I’d never even tasted before. So much of it that they went and made themselves vomit between courses. I was scared I’d get it wrong, but I was able to observe everybody else and do my best to fit in. Which meant making myself vomit too, because if I acted in any way they thought was unusual I risked them realising I wasn’t really a Capitol citizen. Even though, remembering the month where the factory was late paying me and my parents and we ran out of food for a week or so, it made me feel disgusted to waste food. Thankfully I have Livia to guide me through all this.
She helped me to perfect the clipped Capitol accent I have to put on now in public. I just about got through the party by saying as little as possible, though. Which is probably the best strategy anyway, because I was able to find out a lot more by just observing quietly than by trying to partake actively in the conversation.
I’ve just succeeded in getting most of the heavy jewellery off and removing the makeup which is unnecessary (not the makeup that’s part of my disguise, I only remove that when I go to bed) when I hear a voice coming through my earpiece. It’s Diana.
“Catullus,” she’s saying
I would normally object, tell her just to call me Burton since that’s my name, but there’s a strange tone in her voice and I hear commotion in the background.
“I’m here,” I say “what’s going on?”
There’s a pause, and I’m sure I hear a strange noise coming from Diana, before she continues in that Capitol accent I’m so sick of hearing these days.
“It’s Halina and Ari.”
“What about them?”
“There was an attack at base, and Halina was killed. Ari got hit, but he’s alive. We’re hoping he stays that way but there’s no guarantee.”
“W-what?” I ask, my voice hushed by the shock of the moment. It’s as if everything stops.
Halina was just a kid really, the same age as my little sister. My family were on that base. I’m assuming they’re okay otherwise Diana would have told me, but it still hits me that it could have been Lea just as easily. Halina was a great kid, really. Not perfect, but nobody is. Her heart seemed to me to be in the right place, and I know for sure she didn’t deserve to die. It’s heartbreaking.
And Ari, who we all kind of see as a little brother. Especially Amadrya, who has a bond with him from home. He’s a sweet kid, he wouldn’t hurt a fly unless he was being threatened. He can handle himself, of course. But we’re all protective of him anyway sometimes. I can’t stand the idea that he’s hurt. I can’t stand that I’m here while my friends are going through all that at home.
“I’m sorry,” is all Diana says
“Don’t be sorry, send me a hovercraft!” I retort “I’m coming home.”
“Oh, no you’re not,” Diana replies “you’re staying right there. It’s too dangerous to send a hovercraft and bring you back now, not to mention the fact that we still don’t know how they found the base. It’s not safe here anymore, we’ll have to move soon. You have to stay there, in the Capitol. We need you there.”
I have a strange feeling that she’s lying about not knowing about how the Capitol found the base but it doesn’t matter to me right now anyway. All I care about is my friends and family.
“I’m not going to sit here and drink fancy wine and wear expensive clothes while my friends are suffering back there. Not to mention I have to make sure Holly is safe, my family is safe. It was stupid of me to leave them and forget that they are still in danger too. I’m not asking you, Diana, I’m telling you. Send a hovercraft for me right this second.”
“Catullus-“
“My name is not Catullus!” I snap
She’s stunned into silence for a second, but then continues as if it never happened.
“There is nothing you can do for your friends right now. And to fly back now would be to risk drawing attention to them even further and putting them in more danger. Don’t forget that this is a military operation, Acton, and you’re a common soldier. Which means that you listen to your superiors. I’m telling you to follow an order. Which means you stay in the Capitol and goddamn follow the order. Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” I respond with a sigh
“Good. We’ll make sure your family is safe, we’ll keep you updated on Ari’s condition, and we’ll schedule a call with Holly as soon as possible so you can talk to her and make sure she’s okay. In the meantime, keep doing what you’re doing. Stay put, do what we tell you, and keep yourself safe.”
When she’s finished talking I slump down on the couch for a moment, and put my face in my hands. How did it end up this way? My friends are at home dying and here I am in the Capitol. I’m still dicing with death daily here, and I feel isolated and alone, but I’m still going to glamorous parties and socialising with the Capitol’s elite. It doesn’t sit right with me.
And I think about Halina, who we lost. And I think about Ari, who is hurt and in danger. And I cry. I can’t be there to mourn Halina, to keep an eye on Ari while he heals. I can’t be there for my friends. And it hurts.
|
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Jan 27, 2020 15:44:21 GMT -5
My conversation with Diana seems to fly by in flashes. She tells me about the trackers, about how it’s too late for me. I shout and yell, and get angry. Tell her how I feel like I was betrayed by her. How it’s her fault that I’m going to get caught, her fault that Halina is dead and Ari was injured. How the rebels are no better than the Capitol, sacrificing kids for their political games, tracking our every move.
But in the end none of it matters. None of it is going to save me.
I rush around the apartment doing all the things I have been taught to in this eventuality. Burn paper records, destroy any technology I have with me. Contact Livia and tell her to get as far away from here as possible. They haven’t tracked her, she doesn’t need to go down with me, and with warning she won’t.
I allow myself one thing, though: I record some messages on my computer. One for my parents, one for my sisters, and one for Holly. I’ll hide the computer somewhere the peacekeepers won’t find it and ask Livia to come back for it and send my messages when it’s safe. I shouldn’t do this, but I have to.
I start with my parents.
“Hi, mom and dad.” I say with a small wave “um, I’m scared. I messed up pretty bad, and the Capitol are onto me. But you already know that because Livia sent you this video. I’m so sorry. I should have been better, I should have stayed. That’s what a good son and a good brother would have done. But I know you’ll be proud of me anyway because you’re amazing parents. I let you down by leaving.”
I look down, swallowing as the tears start to fall. But I look up to meet the camera again.
“I really think this is it this time,” I admit “but that doesn’t scare me so much. It’s that I have to leave you, and break your hearts all over again. At least now you don’t have to worry about me, I suppose. I should never have put my pride and my selfish need to feel like I was helping above being there for my family. You told me to be careful, Dad, and I really did try. I did everything right. But it didn’t matter in the end. Hopefully I still did something good, that all of this wasn’t for nothing. I have to go now, but I want you to know that I love you.”
And then I move on to my sisters.
“Hi, Lea and Twylla. You’re seeing this video, which means you already know I’m gone. And I’m sorry. I don’t want to leave you, but I don’t have any choice now. I wasn’t the brother you deserved, leaving you both like that when you only just got me back. And for that I’m so, so sorry. But I just know that the two of you are going to be fine. You always are, you’re so strong.
I want you both to keep yourselves safe and protect one another no matter what, like I should have done. Like I wanted to do. I want you to enjoy life. Don’t worry about stupid things like money or what people think of you. I did that too much. Just focus on one another. And please, don’t join the rebels. I know that won’t stop you, but I want you to know that mom and dad can’t lose another child. They need you, and you need one another. I’ll always protect you, don’t ever doubt that. That’s what big brothers do. But I have to go now. I love you both.”
And now for the final message, the one I most wanted to take my time over. I don’t care about wiping away the tears now. I know Holly would hate to see me crying but I can’t do anything about that now.
“Hi, Holly,” I say “you were right, I never should have come here. I’m sorry I left, I’m sorry that I hurt you by leaving. I want to thank you for all the times you saved my life, because I don’t think I would have lived this long without you. But they’re onto me now, and we both know I’m not coming back. I’ve always been an optimist, but even I know when it’s all over. So I need to get some things off my chest because I don’t want to die with any regrets, that scares me.
“I’m in love with you, I fell for you from the moment I saw you on that stage, mouthing those rebellious words. I saw you and I knew that you were meant to do something amazing, meant to be someone special. And you are. But that’s not me. I’m not meant to be special or a hero, I’m meant to be a protector. That’s what I was always meant to do, I know that now. You always thought you were the one who had to die, that I had to live and you’d give your life to make that happen. But it’s not true at all. You’re the one marked for something great, not me. You’re the one that has to live. So please don’t throw it all away. Stay safe, and don’t come trying to find me or avenge my death. You’ll only get yourself killed. I want you to keep being strong. Don’t stop being the girl I fell in love with. Promise me that. Because if you changed because you lost me, that would be the worst thing I could imagine. Just take down Louden for me.”
That’s when I start to hear banging at the door of my apartment, and I swear, frantically wiping the tears from my face
“I love you, Holly. It’s stupid, it’s so stupid to say it now. I wanted to wait until the right moment, until I knew for sure you felt the same, but I seem to be running a little short on moments to wait for now. I didn’t want it to be like this, I really didn’t. And I’m sorry because I know this will hurt you, you’re getting hurt again. But I have to go. I love you.”
By the time I end the video, they’ve almost broken the door down. I have just enough time to stash it before they rush into the room, pushing me to my knees. They pull my hair to force me to raise my head, and there’s Robin, smiling as always.
“So... is it him?”
|
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Feb 1, 2020 17:46:58 GMT -5
It’s been a pretty uncomfortable few hours since my arrival in the Capitol. My prep team hasn’t left me alone, plucking and shaving every single hair on my body and using all kinds of strange Capitol products I’ve never seen before. They’ve even washed my hair and and styled it; they said they had to make me presentable to meet my stylist. We’re so quaint in the districts, I hear them say to one another as they work on making me look suitable for Alistair’s inspection. It’s ironic to me, considering I’m from District 2, it’s not like I’m from District 12 or anything. But I suppose when the higher districts consider themselves refined like the Capitol we forget we’re barely even close to the Capitol level. We’re their favourites, sure, and they give us advantages over the other districts, and wealth and glamour. But that’s just the crumbs from the Capitol’s table, in reality.
After what feels like a million years of plucking, exfoliating, moisturising, shampooing, blow-drying and a million other things, the prep team finally deem me ‘cleaned up’ and sent me on my way to meet Alistair. I have to admit that I hesitate outside of the door for a moment, a little intimidated.
He’s a genius, the prep team told me. Mute, but one of the best stylists around at the moment. And I believe them; I’ve seen his work before. He has an eye for cutting to the core of the tributes he dresses, for representing them in their clothing in ways that nobody expects. Perhaps that’s what scares me - when he dresses me, who is it that I’ll see in the mirror? Will I like his reflection of me?
But I enter into a lavishly decorated room, where a man of about thirty sits on a plush velvet sofa, all dressed in gold. I already had the prep team tell him I speak sign, since that’ll make it easier for us to communicate. I learned when a girl I knew became an avox, so I could communicate with her. Of course, they shipped her off to the Capitol before long but I didn’t stop learning.
Alistair rises to his feet when he sees me and points to a platform. It’s set in front of a mirror, and surrounded by lights to illuminate the subject standing on it better. I head over to it, and step up onto the platform as he instructed.
After the prep team finished their work, they put my back in my reaping clothes; apparently it was better for Alistair to see us like that because it was a better reflection of our personalities than any generic Capitol clothes they might send me to meet him in. So I’m standing in the same white dress, contrasting with my olive skin, and with my dark hair in the updo with the colourful scarf wound through it. The only difference is that I’m now makeup-free, because Alistair wants to see our natural faces. I suppose he has to know what he’s working with.
I watch guardedly as he approaches me, and circles me for a little as I stand on the platform. Then he touches me face, turns it from side to side, tilts it up. He looks at my eyes. He unwinds the scarf from my hair and pulls it loose so he can see it, testing the texture between his fingers. I know he’s examining my physical appearance, trying to see what he has to work with, but it’s like he’s staring into my soul.
He takes a step back now, looking at me from a little more of a distance. This is where he is going to tell me what he envisions for me, how he wants to present me. What he sees me as.
“I see good looks,” he signs “a pretty face.”
And I try not t show it, but I’m crestfallen. He’s one of the best stylists in the Capitol, one who represents his tributes better than any other I’ve ever seen. And from him, possibly the most perceptive man in the Capitol, all I get is good looks? Is that all I am? Have I built my walls so thick that my personality, my real self, is too far down for even Alistair Helios to detect it?
Then he continues to sign. He isn’t done.
“But I see more in you. You’re like a gemstone.” he signs
There’s a pause while he picks up a diamond necklace that sat in a display on one side of the room and returns to me, placing it in my hand before continuing.
“Pretty, for sure, but far tougher than you might assume. At first it seems cold, but when it catches the light right..”
He pauses to turn the necklace in the light. And sure enough, at the right angle the stone seems to suddenly blaze, as if it’s been hit by lightning.
“...a fire.”
I look at him, speechless, but he just smiles and takes the necklace to put it around my neck.
“You don’t give up, not even when you know it’s pointless to try,” he signs “and that might be enough to get you through the rest of your life.”
“What?” I sign “you think I’m not going to survive the Games?”
Alistair’s facial expressions change two times in response to that question. First, he looks at me like I’m an idiot, like it’s a stupid question. Then he raises his eyebrow, and shakes his head in a knowing way. Behind the sass and the intelligent, perceptive gaze, I can see there’s pain there. Which doesn’t surprise me. Nobody here seems to be truly happy.
“I didn’t say that,” he replies “I know you think winning is an out to whatever pain you’ve gone through but let me promise you it isn’t. If you win, they’ll dig up that pain in front of the entire country. And you never stop being a victor.”
“Well, I don’t really see what my options are,” I sign irritatedly
Now he just looks exasperated, rolling his eyes.
“Please,” he signs “I know you’re playing dumb but I know you’re smarter than you pretend. You’ll figure it out.”
I don’t know now what I will one day. Right now I don’t spot the things that would seem obvious one day, things that tell me he’s a rebel. Maybe I am not as smart as he thinks I am, since I don’t figure it out now. But how could I have known?
Now he circles me one more time, and smiles. Something ignites in his eyes.
“I know exactly what kind of game you’re going to play. So I suggest we go for a romantic but dangerous kind of look, yes? Something to deceive the people you want t deceive, but also something that shows the sponsors you’re one to watch.”
That makes me grin.
“Let’s do it.”
|
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Feb 7, 2020 16:08:49 GMT -5
”Who are you, Macaria?”
The question from Holly cuts deep, because Alessandro asked me that very same question in the arena once. But the way she’s looking at me, the fire in her eyes, it prompts an answer from me that I wouldn’t normally give.
“I’m still the same girl who risked her damn life to get you out of the Capitol,” I reply, taking a step closer to the smaller girl
Holly matches my step when she speaks next, stepping closer to me as she fixes me with that intelligent gaze.
“And you’re also still the girl who almost killed me in the Arena,” she points out “so you’ll forgive me for getting mixed signals.”
I sigh. This isn’t the Hunger Games anymore, and even if it were I’ve changed since then. I have goals bigger than the Hunger Games now, so many more opportunities open to me since the rebellion. I don’t have to be a puppet anymore.
“Okay,” I say exasperatedly, “I’ve already apologised for everything I did in the Arena, as pointless as I know that is, and I didn’t expect your forgiveness. But I’m done now. I don’t need to prove anything to you, I don’t need validation from you, I don’t need to justify or explain myself, and I sure as hell don’t need your trust,”
I count the things I say I don’t need on my fingers as I speak, but when I’m done I pull one of my knives from its sheath and hand it to Holly.
“But if you really don’t trust me, if you’re really still suspicious of me,” I say, and then shrug “then kill me.”
“What?” Holly asks in surprise
“Kill me,” I repeat casually “I give you my full permission. You don’t trust me, I’m clearly dangerous, so kill me. Before I have a chance to betray or hurt anyone.”
Holly just looks at me, but raises the knife. We stand in tense silence for a few moments, and I see her hand twitch a few times but other than that she doesn’t move so much as an inch.
My heart does pound, even though I tell myself I don’t need to worry. Despite this, I can hear the rush of blood in my temples, can feel my pulse racing. The silence seems to deafen me, pressing against me in a suffocating way.
Eventually, she drops her hand back to her side. After an excruciating few moments of silence, I smile.
“I thought not,” I say, folding my arms “you can’t do it. Because there’s still some part of you, some part not completely taken over by your cynicism, that wants to see the best in people. That’s why you’re friends with Burton, why you can’t bring yourself to completely distrust me. You still want to believe there’s good in the world. You’re not as cynical and hollow as you like to pretend.”
I take my knife back from her at that moment, sheathing it.
“You’re so determined to believe I’m not to be trusted, that I’ve been lying to you all this time. But you’re blind to the lies you’ve been telling yourself, Holly.”
|
|
