bellamy morgenstern, district four

he is a candle, a flickering wisp of golden light, trapped within the walls of a fragile mason jar, shielded by the thick glass. he was born into it, into this life, this shelter of soft with clouds. innocence is woven into the very fibers of his body. it shines in the gentle slope of his narrow nose and soft curves of his feminine face. it dances in oceanic gray eyes, darkened by the shadows of a thick fringe of eyelashes. it graces across his kind face, a ballerina twirling with euphoria, in a smile, formed by lips that spill verities and compassionate thoughts in a river of molasses.

the mind underneath that pretty head of auburn and honey waves, despite the swords and armor of his parents, does not remain unadulterated with the filth and poison of the world. there is no stronghold of power that can deflect the rays of cruelty and the seething glare of darkness that shrouds the earth. and the eye of the darkness is panem. the country is a midnight whirlpool, and one can only hope that their head will not be sucked beneath the surface in the merciless current.

no one is safe and no one can run. not even the "personification of innocence." (lieslieslies.) the proof is in the dark potential and spark of wrath and blossoming selfishness that lies in their steel coffin, sealed with chains, beneath the veils of pale, celestial light. it slowly claws at its nearly impenetrable confinement, slowly breaking away its prison. and he finds himself utterly gripped by the icy talons of terror that its relentless efforts will not be in vain.

he will never be the perfect, unsullied stretch of pristine white that he wishes to be - that he is expected to be. not one single soul that drifts upon this earth, not even one raised with beams of innocence and purity beaming upon their back, can evade the plumes of ink that swirls in the earth's atmosphere. the darkness hovers over the living like predatory birds with wings of shadows and dagger eyes, waiting to swoop down upon their vulnerable prey.

darkness is inevitable.

and it stalks the human race.

he is no exception.

the only souls unmarred by obsidian stains are the purely white souls of children. but the moment they open their eyes - truly open their eyes - to the world, their blindness fades and they see the stark horror that lies before them at last. through their pair of bright, saucer-like oculars, they once saw beauty and love stretched for miles and miles, glimmering under soft beams of sunlight. but the lights dim after a certain amount of steps walked on the ground of this world. there is still beauty and love that shines among the black masses of death and destruction . . . but is there enough light to drown out the darkness?

his fair skin remains bleached of what little color it had in the moonlight, his wide eyes still sparkle like a pair of blue-gray stars, the blazing sunset still catches the gold in his auburn hair. on the outside, he remains the same, gentle-faced boy who radiates a luminous glow of innocence. but he fears that internally that his purity is crumbling to dust, a falling civilization.

there is no such thing as perfection, bellamy morgenstern.

a cruel fact he has yet to grasp.

(his parents as well.)

it is incomprehensible to him, how his mother and father grace the ground with kindness and bless it with their footsteps. they glide effortlessly through life, meanwhile he trudges through it as if he is trapped in a tar pit. their words are golden streams of candor and kindness, stemmed from their glimmering white hearts. he has never heard them utter a word remotely close to unkind.

(but what goes on behind closed doors?)

he should be like them. that truth is a heavy weight in his heart. he is loving and gentle and compassionate and honest, but there are bouts of anger and selfishness among the purity. they are imperfections that rip holes through the image of who he is meant to be, through his destiny set by his parents.

(don't you know? there is no such thing as destiny.)

his eyes are wide open. and all that is to be seen is fear, engulfing him, and the impending horde of venom.

it is already within him.