Starving for Attention || EVENT

Time is nothing more than a broken record stuck on repeat. From the moment the lights become bright, to the moment they're dimmed, the routine is the same. Nothing has changed despite more people joining him. Today is no different. Faux crawls out of the uncomfortable bed he's been sleeping in the moment the lights brighten up. Last night was probably the best he's slept since he was taken from his home several days ago. It's beyond him how much time has gone by, and being trapped inside a room makes it impossible to tell. A heavy sigh leaves his chest as he sits on the edge of the bed. Bare feet hit the floor sending chills up his spine.

It's nothing new, though.

Numb fingers run through what's left of his hair. The surgeons took it away trying to save his life, and while he's grateful to be alive, Faux wants it all to come back. Once a day the bandages are changed. Each time he does it himself in attempts to regain control of his mind since nobody can do that for him.

First stop is in the restroom wiping the sleep away from his eyes. The dark bags are growing bigger with each passing day, and Faux can't help but wonder if they'll ever go away. Urine splatters against the toilet and the floor - one would think being eighteen years old, Faux would have better aim, yet the brain injury is taking away important lessons he's learned throughout his life. Looking in the mirror is hard because he doesn't recognize the man staring back at him anymore.

He's just a boy trapped within the cells of his mind. The truth was shattered the moment Shy slammed the spiked blunt into his head like he was nothing more than a piece of meat being polverized into ground beef. It's hard doing the simple things. Holding a fork. Washing his hands. Taking a piss.

In times like this he wonders if his family will recognize him. Will they see the same Faux that left district eleven after his name was called, or will they see the new being the Capitol created?

Drying his hands, he turns from the restroom and makes his way out into the open once more.

It's breakfast time according to the rumbling inside his stomach.

Pulling out a chair, scracthing the legs against the floor, Faux sits down in the same place he sits for every meal. It's not away from everyone, but now that more people are there, it's becoming harder to remind himself to do the same. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and he's anxious to chow down -

Only this time there's nothing there.

Reading the paper resting before him is hard. The words are all jumbled together, but he knows enough to understand what's being said. Some will go without eating while others will have the chance to devour whatever's sat before them. Scratching his beard, his eyes lower, and his head slouches forward. It's easy.

Back home Faux wouldn't hesitate to give away his food to anyone. He'd give up what he has in order for someone else to survive. It doesn't matter how hungry he is because everyone deserves to live. Even the creatures of the world that roam through the streets have the right to eat. Who is he to take that away?

For a moment he looks around, eyes darting from one person to the next. He's been here longer. He's had more time to recover. More of a chance to heal, yet his mind is still so frail. Brain injuries are never fun to deal with. His old life still rests heavily on his mind, but this new one seems to take a toll.

"I...I...I..." Oh what's the use of speaking. The words aren't even there. It's simple to think them, but getting them out is a difficult task, and it's frustrating. It's just a sid effect, but why hasn't it gone away? Why is it still there destroying the way he's trying to live his life? He takes a breath, allowing all the oxygen to flow into his lungs. Getting angry won't solve anything anyway. He raises his hand and points to the words will not written on the parchment.

If everyone else has a chance for some food, Faux will gladly go without. It's the least he can do.

Sitting in silence is such an eerie feeling especially with a bunch of hungry teenagers gathered around. Every hair stands on end as Faux waits wondering what will happen next. It's amazing how many people are willing to go without food in such a strange place. Being there a few days doesn't truly mean anything, and yet Faus is ready to go without. The rations weren't a lot, but just having three meals a day was more than he had at home.

Everyone deserves to eat, to have their stomachs full, but what's the price?

He sighs looking around ready to get up out of his chair and walk away completely when a loud thump echoes through the prison walls. Faux's on his feet looking in every direction trying to figure out what's going on. A lump forms in the back of his throat as his heart leaps inside his chest. What's happening? What's going on? The commotion is growing louder and louder, and it doesn't make any sense, but soon something slides under the door.

I'm impressed by such selflessness, even after everything you've faced in the arena. It's nothing compared to the writing before, but something seems off. Beads of sweat roll from his brow as he continues reading further and further; But in this world it is either eat or be eaten. If we were to feed half of you to mutts, who should we choose? The fighting outside continues. It's growing louder and louder.

His hands shake at his side. The speed of things. The sound of things. Everything is pushing straight through his mind. The throbbing he felt for so many days slowly returns. His beating heart echoes through his mind. It's hard to sit down. Hard to think. Hard todo anything.

Running away and screaming sounds like the best option, but nothing erupts past his lips as he opens his mouth.

Parson speaks first basically asking someone to volunteer for this. Perhaps those who volunteered not to eat have the best chance in the world at becoming a human sacrifice.

But then Carter speaks up, and his words float through the air for only a moment.

Fiona.

He says her name a couple times in his mind trying to find where she's from. He saw her in the games. He stood by her side. She cared for him.

The name is so familiar and so is the face of the girl having that name, but his broken mind struggles to figure it out. Sometimes it all feels so foreign. She's been with him for so long, and just hearing her name. Just being there knowing that someone is willing to throw her away so easily.

His hands curl into fists as he stands eyes glaring down at the boy he played cards with just a couple days ago. Red flashes before his eyes. Anger isn't something he's experienced many times, but having the brain injury amplifies his emotions more than anyone would ever realize. The calm quiet Faux disappears in the blink of an eye -

"N..no!" His voice is louder than he ever meant it to be, and he's ready to fight. For some strange reason, Faux cares for her, and he wants what's best for her, and feeding her to the mutts isn't what's best. He has so much he wants to say. So much to bring to life -

He can't lose his friend again.

"P..p..pick... Ca...ca...carter."

Everyone deserves a chance to live. Everyone deserves a chance to fight, but right now Faux isn't about to let someone take away someone that means the world to him.

"M...m...mutts."

His hands relax for just a moment.

"G...go on."

Nice people don't get anywhere especially when they're locked away from the rest of the world in a dog eat dog mentalit rules everything.