you always take it further [Deval Standalone]
Nov 24, 2013 16:56:14 GMT -5
Post by Sampson on Nov 24, 2013 16:56:14 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, text-align:justify;][atrb=style, background-color:#e3eed0;][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,20,true] deval izar And you thought the lions were bad Well they tried to kill my brothers And for every king that died Oh they would crown another Iago has become an obsession of mine lately. It's hard not to waste away by the television's screen, my eyes glued to the faceless tributes that stand in the way of my cousin winning his life back. They keep him him from coming home, keep him from preserving what he chose to put on the line for Sampson. I can't help but hate them all, even Iago's alliance members. The longer he stays with them, the more I think of Benat and how that ended so terribly for my brother. Scout and Emery could easily become Ivy and Elodie. I don't know much about Ewe, but I assume he'll follow the lead just as he's followed the alliance group around. My cousin could easily succumb to the same horrible betrayal that killed Benat, yet a quiet voice in the back of my mind keeps telling me he won't. In two ways, Iago has already surpassed by brother in the Games. He has gone further by rising to the top and being part of the nine remaining souls in the arena, but he has also descended into a level of savagery that I feel is unrecognizable. I grew worried about him after the Bloodbath, when he strangled that girl from 9 with a thin wire and told her that her life was his to take. He'd acted like the Grim Reaper then, intent on controlling things that are not meant to be handled by human hands. Anyone who believes they can control another's mortality is a fool. That's why we have laws against it outside the arena. Hell, I don't know why we don't have laws controlling the creation of life too. Murder and having children are two equally dangerous games. That's probably why the Hunger Games are so entertaining. We throw together 24 children—beings we have created with care—and allow them to destroy each other. We play with life and death like we have the right. So that's why I worry for Iago. He seems to have somehow developed a similar mindset as the entire nation of Panem. I had hoped he'd go into the games with some kind of humanity but I realized he hadn't when he cut out poor Shadow's tongue. He'd silenced the little lamb and made everything about himself—at that moment—repulsive. I'd almost asked Sampson to leave, almost rose to my feet so I could push him out the front door and off our porch and scream, "Run!" because if he saw his savior that way, I wondered if he could ever forgive him. Sampson owed Iago his life, but the way Iago was handling himself in the arena could have easily wounded the the big heart Sampson carried in his chest. On day two, I'd wondered if it would get any better. I'd hoped. Then they ended up clashing with Hope Woodwards's group. I'd hoped and somehow, ruined everything for the girl named Hope. The fury in Iago's eyes, as he tried endlessly to maim the girl from 8, was venomous. It was hard to cheer on Iago as he looked to kill yet again, ready to strike down the little girl whose brother had also died in a previous games. I couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for Hope, just because I believed I knew how it felt. I was actually relieved that it was Emery Moreno's fire that ended up devouring Hope. It meant Iago had a little less blood on his hands. That was before he started carving out Hope's eyes. I'd been watching that part by myself, in the town square where the giant screen hanging there makes sure we don't forget what's going on while we work. My eyes had shifted to the screen when I'd heard the low gasps and people stopped leaning over the rows of grapes to see what was going on. They'd all straightened up, like a bunch of meerkats, desperate to see what was going on with our district's tributes. That was when someone behind me shrieked with horror and I realized what I was watching was not some nightmare created by my mind—Iago was digging out Hope's eyes. My whole body started shaking with anger. Granted, I had been shivering before because my autumn clothes weren't doing the best job at keeping out the cold while I worked in the grip of fall's chilly air, but I knew that the shaking had suddenly changed. I was filled with disgust for Iago, simply because the eyes were sacred. It was practically an act against God to touch those little girl's eyes. They were windows to her soul, little openings for her to see the world and for the world to see within her. It was an abomination that he even think of taking them. He'd already killed the innocent light in them, so why destroy them further? Numb hands finding a rock, I'd stepped out from the rows of cold grapes and chunked it the screen. My voice had never been so loud as I screamed, "Iago! Don't you fucking touch her eyes. You monster! That's enough. That's enough!" Everyone was suddenly watching me as I damned my brother's savior and hurled obscenities at his image on the screen. The Peacekeepers stepped towards me to put me back in my place, but my fire quickly burned itself out. I was left standing in the empty aisle between the rows of fall crops, chest heaving out white bursts of cloud into the cold air. On day three, Scout crushed Brandon Halt's head after Iago told him that he was going to cut it off and bring it to Arbor. I was quiet as I watched that time. To me, nothing was so treacherous as taking Hope's eyes. But now it's day four and Iago is battling some strange group of pitfall lizards. They're doing alright, so I can't bring myself to worry. At least, that's what I want to believe is the reason I don't fear that Iago might die from their poisonous teeth. It's either that reason or it's because I can't bring myself to cheer for Iago to come home anymore and I honestly cannot think like that. My cousin has become a monster, but he is still the boy who saved my little brother. I can't turn my back on him yet. Even if Iago has taken everything too far and I should hate him for it, I can't. Whatever he does in the arena is excusable because he saved Sampson and I can't ask for anything more than that. And it's harder than you think Telling dreams from one another And you thought the lions were bad Well they tried to kill my brothers | [atrb=style, width: 160px; height: 700px; background-image: url(http://i424.photobucket.com/albums/pp324/Sky7622309/3a778810-fb7b-4256-aa97-d4ca5bb7010e_zpsfbb63ec8.jpg);] |
