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double-edged people {leticia/dustyn} blitz
Oct 1, 2015 12:00:09 GMT -5
Post by d4 tati pelotte [azalea] on Oct 1, 2015 12:00:09 GMT -5
LETICIA
The lights go down in the city, but rise again: all in my vision.
It was hard to tell whether or not I'd managed sleep, because the city seemed to stay alive through the night. Flickers of orange and yellow lights were my only guidance, but my mind burned red with worries cut into my head. Dreaming felt like the only needle and thread to patch up my wounds, but I'm made to suffer as the salts of heartbreak seep into me.
I knew that today was going to be one of the most important days of my life, especially since my days are limited.
And training: something usually simple made complex by the concept of the games. It wasn't just a place to learn, it wasn't just a place to pick up a spear and think "so that's how much they weigh"—it was a place of opportunity. Friendships drowned in water and forced to grow from dry soil, enemies hand picked to suffer the first arrow of your bow. It isn't just a room, it's more.
A palace home to an empty throne.
But it's certainly not mine for the taking.
Tiny earthquakes rumble across my body like a tide coming in and out. Nerves building up like skyscrapers, an empire growing beneath them as my eyes meet the faces of my competitors. I'm lost amongst them and the force of the brutes is dragging me in. I blink and at my feet lies tainted silver and enough sharp things to rip me into thousands of pieces.
Faces drift past me like clouds, leaving me stuck: heavy with rain and unable to free myself. An iron promise to myself echoes around my head—"no more tears"—but I can feel it rusting. Weakening with each glance at the careers, each shift to the ones with survival instinct.
The devil cackles on and my feathered wings peel from my back.
I turn around, my determination fighting with my emotion to show that I'm not just a pawn on this board. I walk over to the plants station and it seems to be the only thing making sense in a universe suffocating in obscurity.
Roses red and violets blue, berries sweeter than a spoonful of sugar and fruits deadlier than that one tribute who tastes first blood. The information files itself into my mind and for a second, it seems easy.
But in my ears rings footsteps, and I freeze.
My caramel nerves weren't made to withstand this mayhem; blades with names and double-edged people are polar opposites to that one girl who just wants to go home.
It was hard to tell whether or not I'd managed sleep, because the city seemed to stay alive through the night. Flickers of orange and yellow lights were my only guidance, but my mind burned red with worries cut into my head. Dreaming felt like the only needle and thread to patch up my wounds, but I'm made to suffer as the salts of heartbreak seep into me.
I knew that today was going to be one of the most important days of my life, especially since my days are limited.
And training: something usually simple made complex by the concept of the games. It wasn't just a place to learn, it wasn't just a place to pick up a spear and think "so that's how much they weigh"—it was a place of opportunity. Friendships drowned in water and forced to grow from dry soil, enemies hand picked to suffer the first arrow of your bow. It isn't just a room, it's more.
A palace home to an empty throne.
But it's certainly not mine for the taking.
Tiny earthquakes rumble across my body like a tide coming in and out. Nerves building up like skyscrapers, an empire growing beneath them as my eyes meet the faces of my competitors. I'm lost amongst them and the force of the brutes is dragging me in. I blink and at my feet lies tainted silver and enough sharp things to rip me into thousands of pieces.
Faces drift past me like clouds, leaving me stuck: heavy with rain and unable to free myself. An iron promise to myself echoes around my head—"no more tears"—but I can feel it rusting. Weakening with each glance at the careers, each shift to the ones with survival instinct.
The devil cackles on and my feathered wings peel from my back.
I turn around, my determination fighting with my emotion to show that I'm not just a pawn on this board. I walk over to the plants station and it seems to be the only thing making sense in a universe suffocating in obscurity.
Roses red and violets blue, berries sweeter than a spoonful of sugar and fruits deadlier than that one tribute who tastes first blood. The information files itself into my mind and for a second, it seems easy.
But in my ears rings footsteps, and I freeze.
My caramel nerves weren't made to withstand this mayhem; blades with names and double-edged people are polar opposites to that one girl who just wants to go home.
