where is my mind [ewe&eye]
Feb 13, 2014 1:01:00 GMT -5
Post by shrimp on Feb 13, 2014 1:01:00 GMT -5
[presto]
[/presto]
[/presto]The water is laughing at me.
It needs to shut the fuck up before I slit its throat, just like all the others (I know I did wrong I know I did I get it stop taunting me). My shoulders are shaking, my breath is quivering and is that a tear I feel rolling down my cheek? You’re pathetic. Useless. Selfish and oh so weak - shut up I did what I had to I had to I had to don’t you see? Their faces drift in front of my own – Linus, Iago, Saffron - and it’s all I can do to not start screaming immediately.
I can’t do this I can’t I can’t. The jug in my hand is too heavy to carry anymore, my twig-thin wrists shaking like an earthquake’s hit. For a second my eyes widen and my hands are rust-stained and cut, my leg is twisted and destroyed (more so than usual) and the resonating boom of Claudius Templesmith runs through my brain - ” Victor! Victor! Victor! Victor! Victor!”
When I got home I thought everything was going to be better, back to normal but then the nightmares began, twisted and dark, paralyzing me with fear as they floated around, screaming crying yelling smiling, their dismembered bodies oozing thick crimson liquid down down down in a flood that slowly sucked the oxygen out of the space (I should have just bled out on the maze floor, let myself be taken away because it must have been a better alternative than this nightmare. But I did it for them I did it to get back so it has to be worth it it has to).
I shouldn’t waste all the water, we wouldn’t have been able to afford the water bill a week ago so why should I just let it run now?
I can’t move my head though; it just refuses to inch any closer to the water, to be reborn into something entirely different. So the tap continues to run, the drain slowly losing its war against the current, building up bit by bit as the water curls around the tub. Just do it. Do it do it.. But I can’t.
Linus stares at me, his wide, frightened eyes glazed over as the blood trickles out of his mouth, dripping off of his chin and no no no I can’t look stop it don’t make me look make it stop. They’re beckoning me to join them, telling me not to let go, to always remember them, to always treasure them I know I should but I just can’t I can’t I can’t I was never strong enough for this I don’t know how they even got me onto the hovercraft much less out of the Hunger Games – they said my heart stopped twice. Maybe it should have stayed put. I look at Eye though, and I know that it shouldn’t have.
I can barely look at him anymore. I spend my days in my room, my hands lying listlessly beside me as I stare at the canvas with a scowl because I don’t want to draw their battered bodies and yet they’re the only things stuck in my mind. I go down to eat, I try to be happy, try to ensure Mother that her beaming smiles are warranted (“ I’m fine Ma I just need to rest I’m just tired and I’ll be down in one sec”), that Dad’s pride that glows from every inch of his being can be met with anything but regret.
I haven’t spoken to Eye since I got back. And I don’t know why. I just turn to say something and – nothing. I don’t know what to do I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know everything’s changed and I’m the only one who still wishes we could be back on the boat, in the water where we thrive instead of wilting in a house far-too-big-and-far-too-fancy for the four of us.
I’m not bullied anymore, but instead they give me sideway glances and make sure to be at least three feet away from me. I don’t know what’s worse, to be honest. I didn’t even have to go back to school, most victors don’t. Why am I still there?
My cheeks are warm with blood – no wait, that’s tears. And the sounds coming out of my mouth isn’t agony, but sobs. And this shouldn’t be so hard it’s just fucking hair dye why why why won’t my body let me change it why can’t I change like everyone else why am I stuck in a land where things are too big and I’m too small and I’m just trying to climb out out out away from all the red but I can never reach the surface? My body’s wracked with tremors and I’m burying my head in my arms, nestled on the tub’s edge. Everything’s different so so different so why am I the same?
It needs to shut the fuck up before I slit its throat, just like all the others (I know I did wrong I know I did I get it stop taunting me). My shoulders are shaking, my breath is quivering and is that a tear I feel rolling down my cheek? You’re pathetic. Useless. Selfish and oh so weak - shut up I did what I had to I had to I had to don’t you see? Their faces drift in front of my own – Linus, Iago, Saffron - and it’s all I can do to not start screaming immediately.
I can’t do this I can’t I can’t. The jug in my hand is too heavy to carry anymore, my twig-thin wrists shaking like an earthquake’s hit. For a second my eyes widen and my hands are rust-stained and cut, my leg is twisted and destroyed (more so than usual) and the resonating boom of Claudius Templesmith runs through my brain - ” Victor! Victor! Victor! Victor! Victor!”
When I got home I thought everything was going to be better, back to normal but then the nightmares began, twisted and dark, paralyzing me with fear as they floated around, screaming crying yelling smiling, their dismembered bodies oozing thick crimson liquid down down down in a flood that slowly sucked the oxygen out of the space (I should have just bled out on the maze floor, let myself be taken away because it must have been a better alternative than this nightmare. But I did it for them I did it to get back so it has to be worth it it has to).
I shouldn’t waste all the water, we wouldn’t have been able to afford the water bill a week ago so why should I just let it run now?
I can’t move my head though; it just refuses to inch any closer to the water, to be reborn into something entirely different. So the tap continues to run, the drain slowly losing its war against the current, building up bit by bit as the water curls around the tub. Just do it. Do it do it.. But I can’t.
Linus stares at me, his wide, frightened eyes glazed over as the blood trickles out of his mouth, dripping off of his chin and no no no I can’t look stop it don’t make me look make it stop. They’re beckoning me to join them, telling me not to let go, to always remember them, to always treasure them I know I should but I just can’t I can’t I can’t I was never strong enough for this I don’t know how they even got me onto the hovercraft much less out of the Hunger Games – they said my heart stopped twice. Maybe it should have stayed put. I look at Eye though, and I know that it shouldn’t have.
I can barely look at him anymore. I spend my days in my room, my hands lying listlessly beside me as I stare at the canvas with a scowl because I don’t want to draw their battered bodies and yet they’re the only things stuck in my mind. I go down to eat, I try to be happy, try to ensure Mother that her beaming smiles are warranted (“ I’m fine Ma I just need to rest I’m just tired and I’ll be down in one sec”), that Dad’s pride that glows from every inch of his being can be met with anything but regret.
I haven’t spoken to Eye since I got back. And I don’t know why. I just turn to say something and – nothing. I don’t know what to do I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know everything’s changed and I’m the only one who still wishes we could be back on the boat, in the water where we thrive instead of wilting in a house far-too-big-and-far-too-fancy for the four of us.
I’m not bullied anymore, but instead they give me sideway glances and make sure to be at least three feet away from me. I don’t know what’s worse, to be honest. I didn’t even have to go back to school, most victors don’t. Why am I still there?
My cheeks are warm with blood – no wait, that’s tears. And the sounds coming out of my mouth isn’t agony, but sobs. And this shouldn’t be so hard it’s just fucking hair dye why why why won’t my body let me change it why can’t I change like everyone else why am I stuck in a land where things are too big and I’m too small and I’m just trying to climb out out out away from all the red but I can never reach the surface? My body’s wracked with tremors and I’m burying my head in my arms, nestled on the tub’s edge. Everything’s different so so different so why am I the same?
