[Frolic] // one // cb //

She had a name before, a common label given by her mother that had passed before she could even use it. It never fit on her tongue. She likes her new one, the long winding phrase she chose for herself in the depths of the tunnels with her fellow acolytes. Under the watchful eye of the texts, breathing in stale air and rotting paper she comes to life beneath her chosen phrase. Her hands shook the first time she held a sacred page, drinking in the words on Peace, Joy, and Mindfulness over and over again. She slept with the paper beneath her pillow, and walked the district with it folded and pressed against her heart.

Illuminated by candlelight, brown eyes scan the words already memorized and repeated on her lips. If only the others in District knew, if only they understood. She had never met anyone who cared as much as these followers; who found a home in scraps of knowledge.

In the tunnels there is only emotion. There are no Games beneath the district, only chants whispered in the dark. She sleeps outside as much as she can so she may understand her name even deeply. She watches the constellations battle and she knows.

And she craves for more.