Brighde Faust // Avox // Complete

Brighde Faust

When I came to this place, those horrible men were reading my name. "Bridgeh, Brick, what the hell kind of name is this?"  I remember what they said, then, mimicking my last name, "Faust is easier. We're going to call you Faust." Then I began to cry, for that was the name I needed to forget. Faust, the name of my greatest tormentor, and now I was doomed to be reminded of him whenever I thought my new "name." Faust was with me then, smirking as the peacekeepers assumed I was panicking because of my surroundings. My surroundings didn't bother me any, it was the company that gave me stress.

"Faust?" Faust asked, smiling his horrible, gape-toothed smile. I shrank into the hard chair, but only seconds later I was yanked up by my hair and dragged out of the facility. It took twenty-five hours and six minutes for them to find someone who wanted me. I had a pretty face. I was desirable. The man who adopted me liked my new name, thinking it exotic, and began to call me by it whenever he could. "Faust, will you bring me a blanket?" or, "Faust, will you fetch me some beer?" Faust would watch me carefully, planning his ways to hurt me in the night. I am the only one who can see Faust, and though my first master never laid a finger on me in any way, at night I could feel Faust's fingers creeping up and down my legs, into my clothes, and his lips devouring my hair. He would never leave me alone.

Faust is my surname, my new last name was Briggs. I had the same name as my mother, grandmother, and three grandmothers before her. Faust was the only new addition, and with it brought the family curse. At first I didn't understand, but I know now my father left for the capitol when I was only five years old. He became an Avox for murdering the newborn baby of our neighbors. Before he left I told him about Faust, the dark-haired man that followed me everywhere I went, whispering mean things into my ear. Papa said he saw a Faust-like creature, but it had three ugly heads and told him to do things he didn't want to do. Like kill a baby. Mama said not to listen to him.

When I was seven Faust started doing things I despised him for. He would distract me in class, writing nasty things on the board and making fun of the teacher. Sometimes he would go over to other students in the class and make their pretty blonde hair green, or purple. Once, he turned the boy next to me into a goat right before my eyes. I swear, its true! My grades started to drop though, so Faust got angry. Every time I came home with a 'C', Mama would sigh and Faust would take me into my bedroom to yell at me. I used to hope Mama would come in and see him, but if I yelled for her she came in and told me to quit playing games. "You are Faust! I am Faust! Your father is Faust, and there is no fourth Faust!" she would scream, sometimes pulling out some of her hair. "I am Faust," Faust would say, and lunge at me. My mother left when I started screaming.

My teacher decided I was colorblind when I was ten. Shortly after my tenth birthday, actually. She walked home with me, smiling and asking how I was doing. She was my favorite teacher, but Faust loved to stretch her fat or really short. Strangely, walking home with her that day, Faust was absent. She knocked on my door and my mother answered. I remember how her eyes bugged out of her head when she saw the teacher. The last time a teacher came home with me was a year before, when I claimed Faust told me to cut half a girl's pigtail off. "What did she do?" my mother asked. "Killed a baby," Faust said, laughing. My teacher informed my mother all I could see was yellow. I didn't give half a rat's ass, though that explained my favorite color.

Three years later things weren't as easy. Faust made friends. I never learned their names, but there was another man and two girls my age. The girls never left me alone, ever. They were always pulling my hair or pinching me. One of them, who had dark hair like Faust, sometimes lit a match and held it to my skin when I wasn't looking. The other man taught me things girls only talked about in the bathroom. He was my first kiss, but he disappeared soon after. By fifteen, the blonde girl had left, and only a few months later the brunette disappeared as well. Then it was once again just me and Faust, but he was more violent than ever.

The most frustrating part of my later teen years was walking out of my room covered in bruises and cuts, and when I saw my mother she would tell me to stand up straight and quit looking like I was in pain. She never saw the injuries, and she never believed me when Faust knocked me out. I began to doubt myself and Faust, but when I did he was enraged. When my mother had another baby, and the father was unknown, she left him at the community home. Faust took me there every day to look at him. "Look at the child not worthy of your mother's love. What makes you better than him, filth? Hm?" he would taunt. I would cry.

Two years later, I met Erik. I thought I was all grown up, almost eighteen, and I never worried about much. Faust kept me distracted from things such as money troubles, the Reaping, or remembering birthdays. Erik was twenty, and he acted mature. He charmed his way into my life through silly dates and cheesy lines, and he convinced me I was in love. For my eighteenth birthday, he took my virginity. I don't say I gave it to him anymore, because I realize what he did was wrong and disgusting. He used Faust against me. He told me he knew how to make him go away.

My mental state began to deteriorate soon after my birthday. At first I didn't realize it, but after talking to Erik a few times I knew I was losing it. I saw shadows everywhere, and even if Erik wasn't touching me I would jump around and tell him to quit touching me so much. Nightmares terrorized me at night, to the point I was walking to Erik's house nightly to sleep in his room. Everywhere I went, I could hear people yelling at me, screaming at me, hissing and making awful sounds that must have come straight from Hell. I thought I was going to die.

"Do you think you're going to die?" Erik asked me once.I told him yes, that the voices and Faust told me all the time my time was coming. How did I know they were right, but in the wrong sense? "Dead people don't have consequences, right?" he asked. "They go to Hell," Faust replied, but Erik didn't hear him. Instead, he led me to a group of dogs. They were big, shaggy dogs, with hair that fell into their eyes. They looked strong, and they looked evil. Erik handed me the knife. "Stab those guys in the head, twice if you can. Be sneaky, and don't ask me why." I trusted him, I assumed they were bad dogs, not "guys". Later, a person who witnessed the event would claim I was "frenzied." I had drool coming out of my mouth when I board-walked over to them.

I passed them without them even turning their shaggy heads to look at me. I was angry they hadn't acknowleged me. I wanted recognition from the dogs. Without thinking, I raised the knife high and stabbed one of the dogs square in the back of the head. The second one I stabbed in the back, and the third grabbed me before I could stab him. But something was wrong. Dogs don't grab people. When I looked up, the hard, lined face of a peacekeeper was directly in mine. When I knocked me to the ground, I saw the two other dogs morph into people. One was a peacekeeper, but the other was a woman. A woman with dark brown hair and a blue dress. My neighbor. Then they knocked me out.

I never got fully over what happened. If anything, by twenty I was worse than I'd ever been in my life. I was going through masters like rooms, in and out, in and out. I was throwing things at walls, claiming to see a woman. I was kicking animals that weren't there, screaming when I woke up to see a monster on my ceiling. Even the kind people were afraid of me. A few months later, though, I landed in a doctor's home. He understood. He told me Faust wasn't sitting in his seat, he was. He told me to remember his face when I couldn't see it anymore. Soon, he was giving me medicine, telling me I was ill. I didn't feel ill, only afraid, and when I begged to leave his house he let me.

I know now I should have stayed, for how lucky I had been. I now live with a childless couple in their 40's. The woman never stops obsessing over every line in her face, and I'm forced to keep my face concealed when she is in the room. Her husband, though, is a bored man. He needs no job, so he entertains himself with avoxes. I am the only Avox he owns that doesn't play an instrument. Instead he watches me. He has heard of me and my apparitions, and sometimes he asks me to come in when he has guests over. Then he provokes me. He knows which words get the best hallucinations.

I've been told many times I am hardly one-of-a-kind. "You're simply crazy," they say. I did okay at school, but not exceptional and not horribly. I made regular B's, maybe an A or two from time to time, and at least twice I made a C. I'm shy, much like a lot of District children who grew up in poor households. I lived in the Seam in District 12, but we lived closer to town and though we were always hungry, we didn't need to fear death year-round like many of the other families who lived nearby. I came from a family of shut-ins, so I myself tended to go straight home from school and stay home until the next day. I didn't make friends easily, because Faust took up most of my attention, and would, on occasion, get me in trouble.

I hated getting in trouble, so I tried to stay out of it. Somehow, though, I knew how to end up in the wrong place at the wrong time. I would be next to the bathroom sink when it stopped running, or I would open the supply closet right after someone shoved a precarious stack of books in there. I usually stayed quiet and took whatever punishment I got. After my father left, I simply shrank backwards and let Faust direct my life. If someone was angry at me, I patiently waited for them to calm down, and didn't bother to bring it up again. That was another thing about me. I was patient, and I didn't bother people. I was too occupied getting bothered.

My disposition is dark, to say the least. When Faust is talking to me my eyes glaze over and I will stare at an empty spot in the room. When someone is talking to me I get very still, and a little uncomfortable. If my master is talking to me I'm worse. I shrink into myself and stare at the ground, if I am able to. I don't like when people direct any kind of words at me. I don't even like it when people look at me, it makes me feel as though I'm doing something wrong, even if I know for a fact I'm doing to all right. I'm scared of messing up.

I'm good at a few things. It would be a horrible waste if I wasn't. I can cook alright, and what I od know how to cook I enjoy making and would make often if I was allowed. Unfortunately, I can't make much, so whatever I didn't already know how to make a year ago I am horrible at making. I can dance alright, but I hate dancing. It suites me, because I'm not allowed to anyways.

And now you can't turn back

Because this road is all you'll ever have.

I see light grey hair that is soft to the touch and curl slightly at the ends. I see an off-white face and large, doe-like light grey eyes. I see dark lips curved down into a frown. I see a gently curved face that is clear of blemishes or freckles, with only a few pimple scars on my scalp line. I see a white uniform that fits me well. I have long thin legs, legs I was never very proud of in the Districts but women seem to enjoy in the Capitol. I see lanky arms, with knobby elbows and ugly, bony hands. Sharp shoulders that sag downward. My eyes dart back and forth, then grace slowly downwards. Look down.

Faust sees frizzy brown hair. Soft, yes, but uncontrollable. He sees grassy green eyes that though large, can be looked at and thought of as too sunken. Too sad to be beautiful. Faust sees a pretty little nose that goes too far up my head. He sees a childlike chest and hips that could have been made wider. He sees bones that stick out and poke at people without my permission. He sees the worst in me, so I am forced to find the best within myself. I wonder which one of us is right.

Brighde Faust

Avox

Female

Age 22