The Forest Has Ears (Urgorn-Meghan-Gemini)

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Isn't it funny how the littlest of white lies can spiral out of the liar's control? Even if one meant for their lie to be a cover up for one occasion and for one person, it can escalate immensely, even to the extent that it becomes one's new identity. Their mask of a lie moves forward as time goes on, twisting and turning around itself in a dance of secrets and untruths. At some moment in the lie's deception, it convinces its own teller of its legitimacy. Their body no longer becomes their own and they lose all their carefully constructed control and deliberation.

Soon the lie has a life of its own outside of its master. It travels freely from person to person and solidifies its identity. If one was to tell the truth during the height of this lie's power, they would be accused of falsehood and responded to accordingly. The lie would become the truth, and the truth would become the new lie. It it eerie how often this very thing often occurs in a small community. One would think they understand everything and everyone within their hometown, especially if they had grown up surrounded by that person's true reality. It's strange how often you forget who you are and accept your own deception.

“It is better to offer no excuse than a bad one.”

It seems that any one comment or any one thought can launch a plethora of ideas into Raegan's head. Minutes passed before he emerged into his surrounding reality again. The girl was still there, invading his spot, as if she had ownership over that tree. She had asked him something, but Raegan barely caught onto the last four words."Do you like music?" That was a trick question, if Raegan had ever heard one. Was she trying to peer into his very soul and steal all of his secrets? Did she want to prove him wrong of any sort of deception or trickery? He almost wanted to hit her for such a prying question, but he had been taught to not hit girls. They were 'fragile' or something like that. Bullcrap! If girls could survive, then win the Hunger Games, then they were definitely not the porcelain dolls so many people described them as.

Raegan turned towards the girl and discovered that she was not one, but two girls now. They both looked happy to be in his presence. Happy? They weren't allowed to be happy. Raegan had no use for happy girls. He was supposed to use them and leave them, or in the very least, convince them that if they didn't run, he would do just that. He needed to act quick if he was going to change their minds on his presence.

“She says he says, but she could be lying to me, and he could be lying to her, so I can’t believe her, even if I could believe her.
”

"Music? Music is for silly girls like you." That wasn't convincing at all, he just sounded like he wanted their compliance in believing his lies. "Where did you even get your stupid instrument in the first place? Did you steal it from the Capitol?" He sneered at her and turned to examine a small trail of passing red ants, who each had a leaf or a crumb carried on the top of their backs. It was very obviously gathering time, the little creatures were probably in a hurry to get to their queen. In all likelihood, they were terrified of the three humans sitting near them. Raegan only hoped the girls wouldn't see where he was looking, he didn't want any harm to befall the little insects. They were innocent in this world.

His eyes tore up and focused on the second girl. She mentioned the beauty of sunsets. How cliche. He loved sunsets, in all honesty. They were usually finishing around the first leg of his shift. The sun always had a new, creative way to illuminate the leaves within the forest where he so tirelessly toiled. The subtle oranges, reds, yellows, and the occasional pink highlighted the most glorious hour of his work. When the last rays finally faded, he would be surrounded only by the light of lanterns and the sounds of his fellow lumberjacks whistles. Chop. Chop. Chop. Another tree would fall, and he would tie it to a long cart to be whisked away to the wood shop. Chop. Chop. Chop. The next six hours would be overcome by the steady beat of an axe and the whoosh of a fallen tree. Every night would be the same, and only the sunset contrasted his job of monotony.

Raegan didn't say anything to the girls. He only laid down on his back and watched the sun play its usual games with the forest.

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Word Count: 818[/size]

Raegan Harold; District 7

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Cold on the inside
In phases my lights die
Staring through ardent eyes
I love you, but I lied
Cold on the inside
In faces a smile dies
Staring through ardent eyes
I loathe you, but I lied

[/color] [/b]Nothing like his brothers. No similar traits at all. He was the weakling, the coward,[/i] the girl. He would never amount to more than that third child, more than the weakling, more than who he really was. Nolan made sure to remind him of that, to remind him of his fate in this cruel world. For the rest of his life, these words would haunt him. Remind him of who he was and what he failed to become. The underdog, the failure, the third. Anything he would ever accomplish would never be enough. Not enough to surpass the perfection that was Findlay and Neil. Raegan could only pretend. His flaws would become non-existent, he would become them, their identity, their creation. He was them. Their identity. Their creation. His body was no longer his own. His body was enslaved to theirs. He was gone to their lies and so thoroughly convinced of his own wrongdoing. If only he understood his escape, if only he understood his fate. If only he could break free and fly, but he would always be under their chains, under their control.[/color] "I own you, Raegan Harold. You are who I tell you to be, you are who I want you to be. You are mine."[/i]

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All the pain and the way it was
All of the shame and the hate,
because I was in love with the way it was
All that I do I do for you
If you're not breathing Why am I?
left alone in this shit. If you're not
breathing Why am I left alone?

"Victim: a person who is deceived or cheated, as by his or her own emotions or ignorance, by the dishonesty of others, or by some impersonal agency." When Raegan was little he liked to take walks. Much like today, he would wander through the forest that was District Seven for hours at a time. When he would arrive home, he would always be covered in sweat and dirt and charcoal. That was the difference between the Raegan Harold of then and the Raegan Harold today. Charcoal and paper, visions and imagination. The sweet things that he would give to his mother would always cause his father to lash out, to yell, to promise him that he would "never amount to anything". Then the fire came. Raegan came home from school one day only to see all his artwork, his creation, his beauty torn apart and thrown into the fire. "It's for your own good, you know." For whose own good? Raegan's? Destroying his identity was for his own good? But Raegan would never tell himself this. In his world, this would never happen. His father was kind, his father just wanted to raise a boy with a good head on his shoulders. Raegan would rise up above his brothers and become their leader. Too late, he was already gone. Too late, he was already enslaved.

And I don't feel the need to go on
I was happier singing along the way
I had things, I need to say
But now it's like a swallowed tape
That holds up my face from inside
As everything just falls apart
'Cause everything just fell apart for me

Guilt washed over soul, guilt washed away again. Guilt came in the dark, guilt destroyed at light. Guilt was the color of his choices, the paint on the walls of his mind, and the reward for a job well done. Guilt turned over in Raegan's stomach and he felt like he was going to be sick. Is this what he had become? Who was this monster sitting in front of these girls, lying to them about his own nature? When did he allow himself to fall this deep into the pits of his father's hell? All he wanted to do was to shout his apologies, to scream of his victimization and tell the girl that he didn't want to hurt her. But that wasn't his role to play, that wasn't the mask he wore. He was an asshole, he was a womanizer, and he was lost. Raegan Harold did not possess the strength to talk to this girl. Not like this, not right now, not with the web of lies that had spun around his very life.

He sat up, and looked into her eyes for the briefest of moments. Could she see his heart? Could she feel his pain and hear his thoughts? Did his lies wash over her like they washed over him? He wondered if she knew him in a past life. No, that wouldn't make any sense. She clearly had no idea of who he was, who he had been. She only saw who he had become, and he regretted it. If he had the words to speak he would say, "I'm sorry, I didn't want to hurt you. Of course you didn't steal it. You would never be in the Capitol in the first place, you're innocent. Your music is very beautiful, as are you. You would never do anything to hurt me, so why should I hurt you?" But he would never say these things. He didn't know how. He only knew how to throw his fear into his eyes, his hurt, and hope for the best, for her to understand him. Could she see his heart? He didn't know. He wished she could.

He was going to be late to work if he stayed here for much longer. Somehow they had been there until sunset, and beyond. His shift weighed heavily on the forefront of his mind. The chopping, the tying, the work that he did every night. Mindless. He didn't know what to do, what to say to escape this. So he stayed silent, waiting for the girl to say anything.

I asked it where it had been
Then we started arguing
I'm just like the other ones
But I don't believe you think I'm dumb

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Word Count: 1068