citadel highpeak | district 1 | wip | Hunger Games: The RPG

citadel highpeak | district 1 | wip Sept 29, 2020 18:35:52 GMT -5

Post by grim. on Sept 29, 2020 18:35:52 GMT -5

C I T A D E L.

The silver sword streaked ruby red as I quickly retract it from my fingertip. Out of habit I pull the wound to my lips to keep my blood from ruining the fabric. The scares that riddle my fingertips would have a new friend to join them. The whistle of the kettle startles me as I tighten the last stitch. I hold the satin blouse against my chest, 'Mother would like this one', it compliments our olive tone. I would have her wear it tonight, she would like that. I slick my matted brown hair out of my eyes and rush to pull the kettle off the stove.

Erin would be here any moment, though recently my oldest sister's presents has been like hot coal in my throat, there was no avoiding this conversation. I watch the burgundy liquid swirl around the ivory glass as I pour two cups. This used to be mothers favorite, reminded her of spring, when our rose bush would be in full bloom. We used them mostly for dye, though sometimes we took just a bit for brewing tea.

Moments later I hear the door rattle with a knock. Soon after the knob clicks and the door creaks open. A few years ago my sister and I would have embraced at the site of one another, but instead I only hand her a cup of tea. "Hello, you ready to talk?" she says, taking the teacup from my hand. I nod my head and gesture for her to sit.

"Painful I know, the thought of what we might have to do." she says. It always astonished me how willing she seemed to have our mother killed. "How do you mean?" I say, gripping my cup a little tighter and narrowing my gaze. "Mage you know that the way mom lives isn't living, you are only prolonging the inevitable." She says, without skipping a beat I snatch the cup from her hands as lukewarm tea splashes over both of us.

The taste of blood now fills my mouth as I bite down on the inside of my cheeks. "How dare you step into our mother's home and speak about her like she cant hear you! She isn't dead Erin, and I will continue to do anything I can to make sure she doesn't die!" I shout. I watch as my sister uses her shirt to wipe the tea away from her face, her demeanor surprisingly calm. "I don't have time for this anymore Mage. I have a husband and children who need me. I cant keep bringing you money and supplies that I don't have to give. I love our mother just as much as you do, but she has become too big of a burden."

All of her words were like dagger in my ribs. Through gritted teeth my words for a moment wont escape me "No one asked for your help, we'll manage fine. " I pause for a moment as tears begin to slither down my freckled cheek. The skin of my feet warm against the wood, I walk to the door. "You need to go." I say, my words quivering in the air. Without another word she leaves, and my heart felt a pain it hadn't felt since the death of my father.

The days grew longer, and the nights shorter. The need for food and medical care grew stronger. My mother had a stroke at an age far too young to have a one. She lost the ability to speak, and to move. She lays in her bed all day and I tend to her. Her eyes like two whirling pools of confusion. I wouldn't let her die, she couldn't leave me too.

I knew it wouldn't be long before we would both starve, the little amount of profit I am able to bring in with my seamstress skills wouldn't provide for the both of us. I knew that regardless of my fears I had to do whatever it takes. Without her I have nothing, I am nothing. I didn't have social skills like my sister, people weren't drawn to me. People flocked to her like flies on shit, and I spent my time making clothes and staying with mama.

Only days before our supplies run clean. I would develop sticky fingers and with them I would survive. I began taking what I needed, what she needed. I stole from hospitals, from the market, and peoples homes. I stayed quiet, and I was small and went unnoticed most of the time, so it became a habit that went further then just survival.

Now we want for nothing and need for nothing. We are as wealthy as we want to be. Goodness and fairness doesn't survive this world, determination does. Mother used to always tell me stories of her younger sister Imp, how she died within the arena, how people mocked her for dying to a couple of birds. I do not fear the world any longer, I consume it. I will become like the birds of the night and feast on my prey only when they least expect it. I will soar above all others...

district one. eighteen . word count: table by Arx <3