Shattered Youth {Cloud, Closed}

Alex had stumbled upon many things in the times he had been out wandering near the outskirts of districts. Of course, living by himself and seeing what the world had to offer, it gave him many ideas. But never had expected to come across black bits. Alex had never seen this type of compost before. What is it used for? Why is it here? Alex was consumed in these types of thoughts, examining the piece of black bit in his hand, turning it over and trying to feel for something. It was hard on his hands and solid enough not to be broken when hit into a tree. But he examined where the bit had hit the tree, there was black markings on it imprinted onto the tree as if a rub-press. He looked down at his hands, they were becoming black as well. Had the black bit done this to his hands? He had answered his own question-It must have because there was nothing else Alex had touched that was black today.

There, from a distance where he stood, he saw hard hats and people covered in the dark dust looking almost like they could drown in it. They had just come up from some sort of ontraption Alex didnt recognize. This was strange to him and he had no clue what everyone was doing. He, of course, was hiding in a dense forest, the only thing seperating him from those workers was the fence. That's when he finally understood. The black bits, the black markings and the hard hats; he had finally reached District 12. He was confused for a while, just hiding in the dense forest waiting and thinking of a sort of plan. This black bit, the one he had thrown at the tree and twirled around in his hands was now in his pocket. He thought his best bet was to save them, like a souvenier, give him good luck, something anything to make him feel-happy, welcome?- Whatever Alex wanted to feel. What was he to do? He had finally reached the place where he had wanted to be after so many months of traveling and searching but he was just stuck. He had reached his destination all he had ever thought of was 'make it to District Twelve.' and now that he had done just that, he didnt make a plan on what to do after. He was so used to looking ahead he didnt look too ahead. Alex ust stood there, confused for a few moments, on how to proceed. He had never really been inside of another District before, well the districts he wanted to be in that was.

He wanted to be on the inside of the danger. To him, this was where he wanted to be at the moment. At times he gets signs of remorse and during this time he feels as if he wants to make up for lost time, he wants to hurry into the scene and wish that he could find anyone to talk to or listen to, anything to do really. He hadn't had human contact in about two months and he was dying for some. The urge in the pit of his stomach was filled with butterflies and his vision was getting heightened, adrenaline was pumping through his veins as he came closer, though still in the cover of the trees, to the fence. Pausing near the metal he listened for the hum he was so familiar with back home. The humming was nonexistent. He tried to look around for a sort of loophole or opening in the fence, high or low, anywhere to get in really. He scanned the area he was near, walking, pacing looking for a way he could get inside the way he wanted to involved the fence, but then again what way didnt?

There, by some high grass was a nitch. He may be able to fit into there if he gave it a shot. Carefully maneuvering the ground below his feet and his items he carried he listened for the hum once more, but, once again there was nothing. So, just to be sure. He waited a few more minutes before going near it. After he thought it was safe enough he began to lift the fence slightly. He tried to look around the district for anyone but it seemed as though not many were out. He slid his feet inside the opening first then his waist and arms then lastly his head.

Once he had reached the, if you can call it, safety of the district he began to take in the sights. Of course everything had a fine layer of black on it like what he had found on his hands and on the tree but in the district it seemed to fit the setting.The more the black stuff-the black bits-were around the more he seemed at home, the more he seemed comfortable to the place he was in. Usually this never happened, he hadnt felt this feeling in a while and the more he felt it the more he enjoyed it. The more he looked around the more he felt the need to be seen. And by seen he meant as in to be accepted. He had only seen a couple of miners from out in the forest area but he had finally seen people beginning to come out of these, houses or shops, he couldn't tell which. But the more people he saw the more the butterflies turned into those tiny bits of black bits in the pit of his stomach.