a leviathans ratmas ; { stare, arx & zoe }

L  E V I A T H A N S

( "You're fine,

You're going to be okay." )

( "This is all my fault.

I'm sorry, Stella. I'm so-so sorry." )

"And perhaps I was always too loyal to you,

that even then you were killing me-

I still refused to leave your side-"

( "I broke her.

It was me." )

( "I only break things.

Haven't you figured that out by now?" )

( "It's... it's a blueprint.

For a flying machine that would get us out of here." )

( "See? That's us.

You, me, Simon, and Rowan." )

( "I want y-you to have it,

okay?" )

I'd been painting a picture as each day passed along, one endlessly after the other. A canvas was made from the seconds- minutes- hours- days- time spent within this damned place.  Finger painting in shades of crimson as a body count only raised, and the toll's sole price to pay was the lives of innocents who'd only fought valiantly to live, one just like the other. The painted portraits moved across the dead ground beneath pale moonlight, and into the night sky where their matches now resided among the twinkling stars, and the only last physical reminiscence of beauty was a shimmering, blue face upon the fallen anthem.


I felt the warm comfort of Sue Tate's fingers wrapping around mine, the blood that stained his hands could only compare to the blood that seeped from my open chest. A surreal portrait was being painted in the likes of my own self, and the blood was stroking across the canvas titled, Day 4. The process had already started, and it was an impossible attempt to reverse- rewind- back through the time, for once a canvas is marked there's simply no turning away from an unfinished project. ( There's a mistake- A flaw in the system- How is this possible? ) My crimson curtain had closed when my final show ended, the hole in my chest clotted itself with dried, crusted blood, though now it has reopened for yet another performance- just once more. The fire deep within had flickered from terrestrial existence, albeit, the embers flourished beyond when the curtain prepared for its last close. Sparking- flickering back into a world ( one that was made a paradise of this distorted reality- in which I made but a temporary home ) I'd prepared for yet another slip- and fall.


My fingers slid with ease through Sue Tate's, escaping the touch of his captured warmth with crimson stained tips that ran around the back of my dirty palm. Consumed by nostalgia, my thoughts play over and over again, memories of Sue, Kiena, Simon, Rowan- my great aunt, my father- home- all flush back between countless seconds. Key's fingers lock around a blue print, an escape, a promise to a paradise beyond this arena where we could all live. ( And I bet there's a field of flowers out there too, somewhere- out in the real world... I'd love to visit it one day, when daddy let's me leave... ) Voice giving and I was choking on my own words and blood, the hole was proof of a knife that bit deep within my chest, and I tried to push my last thoughts, but the flame that had flickered became wild and burned my throat in the process. Instead, I left her with a leather back journal, crushed flowers spread throughout the pages with doodles and sketches of research on each and every single one. ( It was a memory of the flower girl who'd spent her life behind the green house of her great aunt's floral shop, she ran through the empty rows with a smile on her face- a rare sight to be seen- "you'll see her smile one day, and when you do you'll fall in love with her.", my great aunt whispered to Blanche Summit as she waited behind a closed, locked door with tears streaming- burning- down her blushed cheeks. )


Day four- five- six- seven-
Wings ripped from the back of an angel, Kiena tumbled out of the sky and back to the ground. She sought an escape from this damned place, and her only blue print was given to I. ( A grant upon the death of a girl who was already living among the dead for her entire life. ) Hope was lost and couldn't be found when each of her allies- friends- family- portraits lit up in the night sky, a home made in the stars while it was a place we'd all imagined to reach the only way up was to go under. ( There were tales of a better life beyond the constraints of a cage they'd been captivated in, "second star to the right and straight on 'til morning.", little did they know that when they flew too close to a star, death would burn their makeshift wings and send them back to the cold ground. Stella wrapped her index fingertip around Kiena's as she pointed to the brightest star in the night-painted sky, a smile crossed her sunken, tired face as she rested her head aside Key's shoulder. )


She was made into a girl who was slain by a boy who came for, not revenge, but to prove a point. ( "Victors do not come from District Six." ) Wyatt O'Connor stabbed spear to flesh, ripping off the wings that Key had made herself, it was a final attempt to flee, but had arrogance no knowledge, she hit too close to the sun. It was in dying moments, she made herself prime for a fall. Before the shots of firing cannons of symbolism, a hand reached out to grab her from hitting the ground. It was forgiveness and a thanks, I'd watched over her throughout the days that passed on and even more faces appeared throughout the sky, as their cannons blared in symphonies that were either music, or ringing, to the ear. ( "I've missed you, Kiena, you never left me. Thank you.", a smile curls along the lips of a phantom who appeared through the cloud of smoke that lingered within the powerline forest. Grabbing Key by the hand, she ran with her into the blinding light, where Rowan and Simon had been waiting. )

( "He...

he took them to a distant place." )

( "A b-better... a better place,

w-with fairies and... magic... and pirates.

Th-they were... happy there." )

( "It's right there, you see?

Second... second star to the right and straight...

on 'til... m-morning..." )

"It's time to leave, Key."

( "Not yet.

Just a bit longer." )

( "Wait. Wait." )

( "Okay." )

Rewind. 

{ "this isn't how it was supposed to end" } 

( "Please- 

Please help-" ) 

( "Th-th-th-tha-thank-" )

( "it's rude to point!", Rowan Combe's voice echoed through the train cart, reprimanding Sue Tate and shooting his twisted finger down from pointing at a prosthetic arm. ) Rowan Combe- she was a beautiful girl, the motherly figure to not only the lost, scattered pieces of the District Seven puzzle, but the light in the darkness I've always lived my life in. I watched in awe as she unlocked the door to my room ( one that was made up of four walls, concrete, with a lone window to look out upon a world of the past, and a single door with a missing handle- this is what showed me a glimpse of the future ) she'd grabbed me by the hand, uncaring of the damage and dirt it'd been put through, and I was guided into a blinding light. A sensation of love rushed with adrenaline through paper thin veins, and it was with closed eyes I'd whispered to her through excruciating pain, though beautiful, it was lethal. ( The light was always in her eyes, and that's why she couldn't sleep, but when it died down everything turned dark- ) I found the word slipping from the back of my mind, and off the tip of my sharp tongue.

"Sleep-"

A good cause, the tears threaten before pouring in burning streams that kiss my cheeks as they travel to my jaw and chin. ( "You'll be seen as weak for crying." ) I do not care. I pulled out my journal, crushed flowers lining each page with descriptions and sketches aside them, noting names and symbolism, between by fingertips rested a white lily ( 'lilium candidum - death' ) I placed the flower upon her resting body, Rowan was finally sent to a sleep- something she'd always been fighting for, perhaps the pain was a remedy. ( She'd reached out to grab her hand, the vision through looking glass was cloudy and mystifying, Stella reached her hand out to Rowan, the tips of her fingers wrapping around her palm before bringing her from the ground. She watched Rowan's wings rip from her back, and could only offer the comfort of the warm light upon her final, dark hours. Smiles ran up cheeks through their lips, and they had been on their way- Stella, Kiena, Rowan- into the light when two canons blew off. And one was but an explosion. "Simon!" )

"We gotta go Simon.

Please stay with me, we can make it out here alive.

Please don't leave me- not this soon-

Please-"

( "I'm sorry,

I'm sorry. I--I'm scared. Just a scared dying asshole." )

( "Thank you." )

( "But you know,

That's just why I read them. To escape

To get out of Panem." )

( "At least there's a chance at happily ever after,

right?" )

Running my fingers through his hair, I felt the warm drops fall from the architecture of my face down unto his. Simon's canon had marked his death hours before, Day 3. His head rested in my lap, for I saved the trouble of damage falling into his eternal rest while on the floor of the train. A hole in my chest created my curtain, a flame controlled the spotlight that emerged and illuminated and flickered, even in that darkest times. It made a promise once entering, as the smoke filled my industrial lungs, the train came to a close. ( It was on this day- Day 4- you'd soon meet your fate, Stella Summit. So, drop your belongings- You're going home. ) My feet found their balance while on numb knees, having sat beneath a head of a family member, with drained eyes, and a lifeless body. The sunlight was screeching against the window of the train in hues of oranges and pinks, fog flushed through the train floor and I couldn't help but follow the voice of Kiena back into the powerline forest. ( She followed a girl who planned their escape, leaving behind two while in the process. They'd finally found their wings to make- It's too bad she had to take the fall. Gotten to close to the paradise she'd slipped into, this wasn't the world she was used to, ( 'welcome to reality, Stella' ), she soared with her new wings into the sky, though she was shot down with a knife to the eye chest. Her physical body was being pulled out of the fight, but she went back searching for Simon, back to the train from the previous day, she reached out her hand and lead the way. A smile on her face she lead him off the dark train and back into the light, "I'm sorry I left you, Simon-", she whispered, "But we're all together now." )

Fast Forward.
{ welcome to paradise ; second star on the right }

( "It's right there, you see?

Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning." )