heavy in your arms // victory tour // cato

heavy in your arms // victory tour // cato Dec 28, 2015 8:42:18 GMT -5

Post by ali on Dec 28, 2015 8:42:18 GMT -5

Oceana Staite
{district four}

.:: I was a heavy heart to carry
My beloved was weighed down
My arms around his neck
My fingers laced to crown.::.

Her lips were creased into a pout, cracked and dry from the cold December air; her clouded breathes hovered gently on the whispering cold air as she inhaled and exhaled. Too many people she thought almost absently as she sat in front of the stage with the rest of her family, a crowd of fellow Fours filling up the standing space behind her, their chatter was like thunder clatter to Oceana's ears. Words filled with sorrow, disapointment, gossiping about how we were so close to yet another District 4 victor; this was all lost to Oceana. She did not care for their words.

She only cared that Daria Staite, her best friend, was dead.

The funeral had been a week ago, when frost had covered the grass beneath her feet, which crackled and crunched as the procession crossed the grave yard towards where Daria would be laid to rest. Oceana had been quiet that day, surprisngly. After how she had reacted to the death, televised on the television screen ~~which lay broken and smashed on the living room floor~~, her family had been pleasently surprised that she had been so quiet, hadn't sheded a single tear as they lowered the casket into the earth below.

Oceana was quite familiar with death. She had been close to it so many times herself, that she had almost run out of fingers to count the times she had greeted death, only to say goodbye so shortly afterwards. She saw no sense in sobbing, bawling like the others were, she remained as somber and silent as Daria's father- who reeked of liquour and stumbled after them during the procession.

She remained silent for a different reason to her best friends father, who she thought was remaining quiet so not to vomit over the ground, a man who scarcely loved his daughter; a well known fact among many Staites. Daria had shown Oceana the bruises, the bloody scabs and the broken bones and so Oceana had shown her scars too; though she had inflicted those on herself, unlike Daria's who's bruises and scratches where caused by the rough, caloused hands of a drunken father.

Her reasoning being that Daria wouldn't be able to hear her where she was. She was dead; so no final words left her mouth as she sprinkled a mixture of dirt and salt over the casket, much to the shock and disgust of the other funeral goers who simply shook their heads, because Daria was dead and she wouldn't know if Oceana was sorry or she'd miss her. The Staite girl found herself giggling as she remembered that Daria was deaf, so if by some miracle she'd been sentient in heaven, she probably wouldn't hear their words anyway.

"Oceana." her sister said softly, scowling slightly as she continued to giggle.

The girl clamped a hand over her mouth because the giggling wouldn't stop. She found the fact that people had been talking to a dead deaf girl absolutely hilarious. Other members of her family scowled as she continued to giggle, though muffled, as the victory tour ceremony began. Even though she was giggling, almost beaming from ear to ear in elation over the funny thought, inside she was screaming; perhaps in pain at the horrid reminder that they would have to come face to face with Daria's killer.

Too many people she thought again as the 71st Victor took to the stage.