'can't let go so hold on tight' [shrimp]

there's a fire

Work had ended early for the girl - after all, Katie Morven's survival into the final two had been something to cheer about, after all. District Three hadn't been particularly lucky when it came to murdering other kids, so oftentimes they died out early, just like Karl. Poor boy - when he had been reaped, she felt something seem to stab at her heart. He seemed to be just like her younger siblings; afraid, too young to die. It scared her, for all of them, not just her siblings, had lives that were worth fulfilling. And two lives would be snuffed out early each year - how likely was it for the electronics district to win anyways? They weren't particularly strong, nor were wires and such normally found in the arena.

She could only hope then, that she wouldn't be more affected by the games than she already had been. Gage had known the girl after all - she had been able to decipher that much at the coffee-shoppe. And to see her survive day after day after day, well she knew that Gage was fragile, but his friend teetering on the edge of survival would be too much for him if she faltered and fell into the dark cataclysm of death. And in this sense, she felt that it would have been best for her to either die quickly, or not die at all. Of course, the latter would have been the preferred choice, but it wouldn't be likely. It would never be likely for a girl from 3 to make it out, possibly even less than those from 12 (although with their lucky streak, that statement wasn't quite adequate enough). If Katie made it far, and then died, then how would Gage react?

To be honest, Dashica didn't care about the girl as much as Gage did. Sure, she felt sympathetic for the girl, wished that she hadn't been chosen, but she felt that the games had been something that was just... Detached from her life. And therefore, Katie Morven was no longer a part of it. She had been whisked away to some unforgivable arena, yes. But she no longer was in District 3, and District 3 was life. She was dead the moment the gong rang out - all of them were, even the victor. After all, they would never be the same, none of them would be. Twenty four teenagers would return, hollow of all life. And that was why they were all dead, and why she found it difficult to care for a corpse.

Ballet flats slapped quietly onto the pavement as the girl followed the steps that she would probably follow for the rest of her life. Travel to work, travel home. Back and forth, back and forth. It would be an endless cycle, full of coughing and lung disease and smog and depression. Just like her father, who walked alongside her, a small thermos in his hand. Every so often, he would take a sip of the black coffee that lurked in it - it was routine for him, just as this walk had been for a good forty or so years. His breath was shallow, wheezes heard every other breath. But she couldn't ask him to stop working - no, if he did that they would have to starve to death. There were a large amount of people in the Starr household, and almost all of them worked. And Dashica's former job had earned her money, along with a reputation. Now nobody wanted to hire her - who would want a slut to work for them? Luckily, there were no qualms about hiring a skank on the factory line. A worker was just a worker in their minds - no feelings, no emotion. Just hands that moved gears, connected wires, created money.

There was a slightly cheery atmosphere earlier in the morning, but as dusk fell it had settled back into the depressive air that it had always been. Rumors had circulated that she had in fact, died right after they had all been let out. Not many people had been able to see it for themselves. So there was a tenseness in the crowd as they clustered towards screens. Dashica and her father were separated - she was directed to the right, towards the screens while he couldn't turn in time, and was sent sprawling onto the floor. She tried to get to him, but she was just pushed backwards, loud, annoyed voices reprimanding her for backing the line up. She was washed away in the wave, and as she was forced to turn the corner she didn't know if he got back up or not.

The flow waxed and waned, yet she was still forced to move along with the crowd, finally stopping in front of one of the smaller screens plastered against the wall. And she could see her. Katie Morven looked worse for the wear - far worse than her legless companion. Blood oozed from wounds that had clearly been recently inflicted, and there seemed to be a flicker of hysteria in her voice, yet it seemed more sane than before, like she had somehow gained her senses in the final fight. Or some sort of it anyways, for Dashica, as well as the entirety of District 3, were forced to watch the girl kill herself.

"Wh-why w-w-wouldn't you llllet m...let me h-help you?"

"I-I cou- could- could help y-you!"

She winced, closing her eyes as the squelch of a knife hitting organs was heard, and then Katie Morven was truly dead. A soft murmur had run through the crowd, and they began to move again, only this time in separate directions, so Dashica was soon left standing alone, staring at the television set, which showed Heron gathering a blood-stained yellow wire from the ground - her token. How many had that girl gained now? 3? Her allies' were in her collection, and now she had added her last competitor to her group. Disgusting, the girl thought, not being able to believe that she could just calmly collect blood-stained tokens of her fellow teenagers.

Yet there were more pressing issues at hand. So quickly, Dashica re-wrapped the scarf around her neck, and walked home, shoes hitting the surface a tad bit louder this time. A larger screen floated into vision as the girl entered the District Square, filled with empty space. There were one or two sketchy people littered along the sides, so she walked quickly, ignoring the cat call that became audible from one particularly nasty boy - he had always called her a slut in school, making sure that only she could hear it. After all, who would believe her, the girl who had dressed in scantily clad ensembles for the past few years? Her reputation was not unnoticed by teachers. She sighed once, then continued on her way, glancing quickly at a figure that was huddled against a wall. That's strange, the girl thought. He looks a bit like...

She turned around.

"... Gage?"

starting in my heart