i hate being pitied {azaleah} blitz

I don't go to school that much. People have always thought of me as strange and I've never gravitated towards the education that much. I think that what they teach isn't important - I'm not taught how to save a life, how to survive drinking poison or how to bring the dead back to life. The history in my blood has taught me more than school ever has; the ways of plants and flowers and chants and rituals and the traditional way of living.

I think some people need to be reminded about what life really is. School isn't living. I hate not living. Adelaide showed us that living will happen regardless of what you do. Even if you die, you'll keep on living. Half a heart, perhaps, but always alive in some way, shape or form.

It is strange not having her with us. She was the diamond to our rough. She showed the world that we were true and not a myth. The years of slander and hurt were reversed because of her, and now that she's gone, I don't know if we will fall back into the same hole that we were in before. Victims to technology, modernity and the future.

The past is better.

"I'm sorry about Adelaide." A girl says, an awkward smile drawn across her lips. My bucked teeth sit on my bottom lip, wide eyes staring at her. I'm the freak of the nature that isn't used to attention, not positive attention, at least. Do I thank her? Do I ignore her? I'm not used to situations like this.

"She's not dead. Didn't you see?" My right hand rubs my eye. "Adelaide will never die. Not really. She's in here," I tap my chest, "and up here," I tap my head. 

The girl shifts and looks at me like the others do. I'm used to that; we're a bloodline of outcasts but we made a name for ourselves, for better and for worse.

"That's nice." She says, I can sense that it is a bit forced, but that is okay. "I felt like that too when Hypatia died." I frown, I didn't know that she has a sister that died. I suppose that you learn something new everyday. In reality, it is hard to not be affected by the Hunger Games. It just keeps on taking, taking and taking and never giving. I was taught that giving is the best part of anything, but I don't think the Capitol was raised the same way.

"I didn't know that your sister had died. I'm sorry." I give a perky smile. "She's still around, though. Just thinking about her keeps her spirit alive." Memories can be happy or sad, but I can only ever remember the happy ones. Forgetting the sad ones isn't great because sometimes you learn from sad moments. I suppose that remembering the happy times you had with someone makes their next life a happier one.

That's how I like to think of it anyway.

"I don't think death is that bad. It's just part of life. A blip."

My words sink in deep. I watch as her expression turns from a soft one to a hard one; smile fading to sadness. I hope that she doesn't cry. I'm not good with the overly emotional. Her hand finds its way onto my shoulder, my eyes darting to her fingers. They widen.

"You're very deep, do you know that? You should be a therapist."

I tilt my head. Is that a good thing? I can't really tell, honestly. If it is a compliment, I wouldn't know anyway. I haven't ever been complimented before. I know for sure when I am being insulted or bullied, but receiving a compliment is another story. Used to the blues and purples and blacks, not the yellows and oranges. Perhaps I am in touch with my feelings. Perhaps it is just another part of being part of the Throe family.

"Thanks.." I say slowly. I still don't know if it is a compliment. "I don't know if deep is a good or bad thing but, I think talking about things people don't want to talk about helps. It makes things less scary. Closer."

Wrecking balls inside my head, they slow, calm when the girl talks once more.

"Thank you. For letting me open up. I don't really open up to people, but I feel better now that I have talked to you. I feel more in tune with my feelings." I give the girl a smile, it is a genuine one. For once, I'm not the crazy girl who conjures potions in the bathroom, the girl who touches dead bodies and tries to bring them back to life. She will know me as a friend, a shoulder to lean on, or cry on.

That is good. I don't think I'm used to good.

"And it was a compliment by the way." Huh, how did she know that I was struggling with that? Maybe she read it on my face, I guess I haven't mastered masking my thoughts. Face was probably morphing and twisting with every thought that ran through my head, all one thousand three hundred and forty-nine of them. 

"Thanks. It means a lot. I'm used to being the weirdo. People think I'm strange because of my family." I bite my lip. "Is your family nice? You are nice, so it would make sense."

"I have like you before Throe. I have been in the same boat, but eventually, everyone will think you're old news and you won't be bothered anymore." She's probably right, but as of now, it stills feels like my name is the one they throw around as an insult in the corridors. It feels like my name is one that they scratch it tables so that the teacher will blame me. I guess I'm not that bothered, though it would be nice if people stuck to their own business.

"But if you ever need someone to lean on, you have a friend in me." She smiles. "The name is Plath. Plath Anning."

I return the smile. A friend. I don't think I've had a proper friend before. Adelaide was a family friend but I don't think that counts, I don't think that family count as friends because it isn't like you can get rid of them if you wanted to. Family are for life, whether you like it or not. Friends don't have to be.

"Thanks Plath. You know already, but I'm Linnea. Not quite sure that I've had a friend before, so forgive me if I say something wrong." A friend. It stills seems weird to think, or say. "I'm sure the rumours will hush eventually, you're right. Sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me --- right?"

"It's not the original saying, but it's better. I like it more Linnea."

I didn't even realise that I had said it wrong, but oh well, it seemed to have had to same effect. Maybe there is something eating inside me that changed it without me realising; fears and hopes and desires clawing away at what I've known to better reflect what I know now. Famous sayings morphing to fit my own story, what next? I don't know, but I figure it isn't a bad thing. Not necessarily, anyway, because I could just be the next great wordsmith.

People will be fighting for my friendship if so.

I laugh a little at Plath. She's nice and funny: everything a friend should be.

"Thanks. I didn't know I had it wrong, to be honest. Do you have any favourite phrases? I like 'home is where the heart is'." I say it with a smile, thinking of where my heart lies. With my family---considered oddballs by outsiders, I know them like most never will.

"That's a nice quote. The quote that I like is, 'if I cannot move heaven, I'll raise hell'. I don't know what heaven is, but I do know what hell is, and I always felt drawn to it."

I nod, listening closely. I don't know whether I believe in either heaven or hell. I know that there is another life because that is where Adelaide went; I can recall Lux Pelotte from Four making sure that everyone remembered so that it would definitely happen. Heaven and hell seem far too good to be true, at least, that is what I think. Though if someone believes in them, I am in no place to bash their beliefs.

"Why is 'home is where the heart is' your favourite quote?"

I smile.

"Because my heart is with my family, and so they are my home. Obvious, I suppose. But I just feel so safe with them. Comfortable. Like nothing matters because we all know what being the odd one is like. Together, we're special. And I like that, no, I love it." I've not really told anyone about my family, not ever. Spilling the beans feels strange but it is satisfying; letting someone else know what I love and where I come from makes me feel a little more 'normal' because I'm sure that this is what people my age are supposed to talk about.

A little more normal. That is a funny phrase; to me, normal is being a Throe. To others, the meaning is beyond different.