exoskeleton | lillybird ii.

♛

Losing two friends in the space of two days has been a strange thing to deal with. It's not that I'm sad, not necessarily, because I never really let myself know these people enough to be sad about them dying. Letting my guard down seems catastrophic for someone like me; I'm a volunteer with a point to prove, a home to get back to, and I've got an onslaught of swears to shout in M word's face when I finally see him again.

And I will see him again - I have to be confident in that. The anger that he's given me is what keeps me going; it can't compare to the adrenaline the arena provides because anger is unchained adrenaline. It moves over lines and barriers, it does not care about whether or not you want it. It's  there in the forefront of your mind, burning a beating heart red and turning palms sweaty because it's somewhat impossible to not let the frustration take over.

I've been feeling more anger than sadness, really. First Quentin and now Elijah - I don't know, it's an anger that they weren't able to stick around longer. Because why did it have to be them and not the people we were fighting? Was it something we did? Was it something we said? We'd spend every morning going over our plan, mapping out where we'd go, walking for what felt like miles until the sky finally broke into day. Was all that meticulous thinking for nothing? It's starting to feel like there's nothing a person can say or do in this arena that'll save them.

Maybe it isn't about being saved, though.

I look out at the horizon with my knees tucked into my chest. My sword is bloodied and so are my wounds. The metallic tang of blood fills my nostrils and it's a constant reminder of the violence around me. I'm not scared of it, in fact, I think I'm learning to embrace it - the streets of Five felt a lot scarier and I had someone to fall back on. Here, it's just me, because who knows if I can really trust anyone else here? The enchantment of this arena is tainted completely with a cacophony of death and despair, but it doesn't stop me from wanting to complete my simple mission. I close my eyes and think of the audience in the Capitol: endless roars and applause swarm through the wrinkles of my brain before they fall out of my ears and are replaced by a thick silence. It isn't about being saved at all, it's about entertainment.

I chip off some of the dried blood from my blade and catch a glimpse of my reflection. I'm double the person I was a few days ago, that's for sure, because I'm contorted with a rage and fear that is unrivalled by any upbringing Five can inflict. The dangers of Five and living on the streets feels like the safest of havens compared to this, because here, it's not about stealing to stop yourself going hungry. It's kill or be killed, and I don't get a choice. I never thought I'd end up being a ruthless murderer, but when the alternative is certain death, it seems like the right choice.

Besides, it's the only choice I have that allows me to see M word again, and I don't think anything will beat the satisfaction of making him feel small after not saying goodbye to me. I'd make him pay for it. With every moment that goes by, my body becomes more consumed with darkness and it leaves no room for forgiveness. Forgiveness - pfttt, who has time for that anyway? I don't think my heart is soft enough for it anymore, and maybe that's for the best. I have cried since entering this place and in my eyes, that's a good thing.

I guess I'm becoming what they want. I didn't even shudder at the cannons today, and for once, the silence felt okay. I used to not know how to feel, but I think I'm starting to become a little more sure.

Everything makes sense in the context of applause.