stone-cold heartache // Giraffe

I knew the finale would come but it’s much sooner than I had anticipated. It doesn’t help that I punched a hole in the screen of our TV at home so I can’t watch it there; I’m forced to sit on a bench in the district square, eyes glued to the large screens placed high up on the walls of a building. There’s quite a few other people that are watching it – standing perfectly still and watching both our tributes fight for their lives – but then there are the others that just walk on by, carrying on like nothing is happening. That’s what I do – that’s what I should be doing, but I can’t. I find myself gripping the armrest rather tightly, knuckles white. My leg is slightly shaking – a habit I’ve just recently started to notice when I get anxious.

It’s just the twins and two others. They should be fine, right? If they stick together and gang up on the others then surely one of them will be able to come home. It pains me to think that I’d rather have just one of them come home but it’s true: as long as one Keeni returns, that’s all I care about.

Frankly I never imagined either of them to make it this far. They’re both pyromaniacs, but in the arena fire can’t get you very far. You can’t just burn everyone and come out the winner – no, that’s not how it works. And poor Pyrian: him being deaf and all, it surprises me he wasn’t ambushed earlier. I don’t know whose doing that is, keeping him alive, but it worked.

And now here he is, fighting alongside Gypsy against two other tributes that I don’t give a rat’s ass about.

I let go of the armrest, setting my hands in my lap and leaning forward. This damn wooden bench feels more like a slab of stone underneath my ass but I refuse to stand up. Call me stupid, but it’s a psychological thing: if I stand then I make myself think that this fight will be over quickly; but if I sit, then this fight will last a long time. A longer fight, in my mind, means a greater chance for success for the twins. I look back at all those strangers that are standing at watching, silently and vehemently willing them all to just sit down on the dirt if they have to. But they don’t.

That’s when Gypsy attacks Pyrian and I don’t think I’ve ever become so enraged this fast before. I’m up and off the bench before I can even fully process what has just happened.

”Gypsy!” I bellow viciously at the large screen in the square. ”Don’t you fucking dare attack him! He’s your brother for Ripred’s fucking sake!” I stoop down and scoop up a stone, hurling it as hard as I can at the screen.

You don’t attack family – you just don’t. And whatever’s gotten into Gypsy’s little shithead is completely and utterly wrong. Keenis are supposed to stick together through thick and thin and she sure as hell isn’t going by that rule anymore.

I throw another stone, screeching angrily and tossing swears around without a care to who I accidentally hurt in the process. Another stone, and another, and another, and another, all the while yelling somewhat incoherently.