qualities of light // sunrise & marik

Here’s a nice thing about elevators, from someone who's never ridden in one before: in the middle of the night, if you sit yourself down on the floor and push all of the buttons over and over again, you can gaze out of the fancy windows and sit in that thing for hours.

Plus, if someone opens the door to find you there on the floor, you may creep them out just enough to send them to a different elevator. It’s foolproof.

I spend this time thinking about my interview, and about what I’ll say. About what I know I have to say. About how I won’t ever know how my family will react, except to assume the worst. About whether it matters that I am authentic to myself, right before the end.

I’m thinking all of this as the door opens. I look up, dazed, and expect to find a confused victor stumbling home late from some bar. Instead, I see the face of another tribute. Even this late at night, my studying of the Reaping videos pays off; I recognize him as Marik Shadow. I remember liking his name; both of us with complementary qualities of light.

I haven’t talked to him yet, but I want to. I pat the spot next to me on the ground.

”I don’t know where you’re headed, but you can sit with me for awhile.”