I'm Already Gone {Katelyn One-shot}
Feb 11, 2015 1:14:18 GMT -5
Post by charade on Feb 11, 2015 1:14:18 GMT -5
Katelyn Persimmon
"We don't want to survive... we want to l i v e."
A wondrous array of food was spread out on the table. Meats from a dozen different animals, scores of brightly colored pastries and more flavors of drink that Katelyn could count. All of it might as well have been ashes and shadow for all the attention she paid to it. Since leaving the justice building and her tearful parents behind, Katelyn had settled into listlessly staring out of the window as the world outside blurred together, whizzing away into the past. She wanted to bawl some more, but all her crying had been done into her fathers chest not ten minutes ago and for the moment her face felt dried out; an empty corn husk shriveled up and blackened from being left on the grill.
Remember what we’ve taught you they had said. Find the good in every situation. Find the good in every person. Most of the other tributes are going to be just as terrified as you. Stay true to yourself and it’ll work out. Katelyn had always believed that, but sitting on her way to actual danger, she found those words rapidly shrinking into the back of her mind. Perhaps not all the tributes from the upper districts were terrible people, but if someone chose to volunteer not to save someone from the games, but because of a desire to hurt other people or for some misguided vision of glory...well, where was the good to be found there?
As district eleven was one of the lowest districts, all of the other reapings had already been carried out by the time she was on the train, and she found herself watching those in her sleeping compartment alone. The ones that stood out were the ones who volunteered, though among those, Katelyn could only focus on the careers, like the girl from two who looked like a damned stone cold catlike killer standing next to her monsterish partner. Then the pair from four that had tearily begged for willing tributes to exchange places with them; and two cocky looking careers had swaggered up to the stage almost immediately to save them.
After viewing the reapings from district seven, she decided she had had enough and clicked it off, throwing herself backwards into her bunk and staring blankly at the ceiling of the traincar. The escort, (who as it turned out was actually a guy named Fintemaelon who had apparently replaced Tasmain a year or two ago) had blathered on about how the train ride was really much shorter than it seemed and it was around that same time that she had politely asked him to leave her alone so she could think. Though he seemed put out at her lack of interest, he had nodded and departed, leaving her to watch the reapings in peace. But now, she was at a loss at what to do with herself. Up until now, she had avoided her district partner, and for good reason. Levi Izar-Klane was somehow related to Iago, the male tribute for eleven from four years back.
Iago Izar-mcclane. Now there was a tribute that some people could only talk about in whispers. The mutilations he had done to the poor boy from district five were terrifying, and Katelyn did not want to get close to Levi on the off chance that he was cut from the same cloth. Hell, she had barely looked at him after he had volunteered, and only then because the keepers had had such a hard time finding Adonis that it was surprising when Levi volunteered. Katelyn wondered if they knew each other, or if Levi was like the careers or worse, Iago. In any case, Katelyn planned to stay away from him.
By now in most of the other trains, the mentors would be talking their tributes through tactics; some with more experience than others. There was Patricia from last year, and Leon from the year before that, neither much older than she was. Then there was Saffron, and that tall broody victor that had won like what, ten years ago that always followed her around? O’leary. That gemstone named career that was rumored to have been involved with Potato Earnest. The bendy girl from two. The names made her head hurt. How was anyone supposed to keep track of all of that? Katelyn sighed and went back to the room with all the food, plopping herself down in an overly gaudy chair.
The other three chairs at the table remained empty. Finte was nowhere to be found, nor was Levi and of course, the third seat stared mockingly in her direction, as if it knew it hadn’t been occupied in years. Katelyn picked at the food in annoyance,destroying a cupcake with a fork, stabbing it repeatedly until it fell apart. The games were no place for her she thought bitterly. She knew her eyes were bloodshot from crying and that her throat felt like a pumpkin was stuck in the middle of it. Make the best of every situation, her mothers voice said in her ear, and she struggled to ignore it. She made pastries. She helped things grow. How could she use those skills in the arena? The door slid open and she froze, turning slowly to see Finte's extravagantly bright clothing making its way towards her. “Ah, Ms. Persimmon, I see you’ve finally come out of hiding! I knew you couldn’t resist the treats forever!”
Her mother’s words came to to her again and she forced a smile. It wasn’t like Finte meant her any harm personally, it was just his job to pick the slips of paper up. Breathe. Just Breathe. Be yourself.“Yeah.”her voice sounded strange in her own ears, rusted from its recent disuse. Katelyn cleared her throat, trying to will her normally cheerful self to shine through.“It’s a beautifully arranged spread, But I'm afraid I don't have much of an appetite right now.”she said with a note of somberness coloring the latter words. Unfortunately, Fintermaelon didn't seem to pick up on the reason for it at all. "Ah, its just the motion of the train. Trust me, you'll be enjoying these treats in no time!" He started to babble again, but this time, instead of shooing him away, she just let him prattle on, staring out the window and nodding every so often as she wondered what she'd be subjected to in the Capitol.
-Katelyn Accepts-
In a way we are all connected,
threaded together
In a way we are all suspended,
bound going nowhere