the core of our bones {d5 train blitz}

"Okay, let's get to work," great. 

A shitty death vacation and now I have to bring work with it. After letting Bambi go, I can't feel my hands; I can't feel anything. It's just been autopilot because I know she kept the only part of me that'll ever see the light of day of district five again, the rest of me is off to the blood letting. Blue little blinder still clutched in my hands, at some point through the day the plastic cover started peeling back and I'm pushing it back further the longer I sit in silence. It's all dobermen and angel wings and I'm pissed. 

I did everything right; that's what I can't stop thinking about. Arguably I was a good person I think, I stayed out of trouble, I never talked about the capitol or reapings. If the worst thing I ever did was be friends with Bambi Mae and her stupid dead sister, then they're killing me for some awful logic. All my life I've wanted a business talk with Patricia Valfierno and now it's here at this train table with a feast of fruit between us, and I hate it. 

Can I just skip to the end already? 

Lysander's not even here yet, she's all I have on the train and she won't show her face past a bottle of whiskey. I want to be mad -- I mean, honestly, I do, I'm kind of alarmed that I'm not. But I'm just tired already and it's still the morning. It's come and gone so quick, my last hour being alive, and I didn't even spend it right. If I knew I was coming here I would have prepared a bit more, brushed up on my facts or bring some eyeliner with me, I dunno. 

I look at Patricia, and I know I'm just another girl to her, I'm her girl for the year and that's my consolation prize. There's a lot of questions- a shit ton. Fifteen years of em, I spent the last two years just trying to get in contact for a damn business contract with this lady. I need a private conversation with her, away from Marsh; what questions does she want me to ask? 

At this point, I just want to ask why me and go take a nap. 

"When you have a minute, I have some questions about uhh," getting money from you? Hard to be business partners from the grave but hell, I'm smart, I'll figure it out. "Life. And Lysander." I lean over to put the binder between my feet, like it'll help stable everything out. 

Because at this point, I'm one harsh turn from falling apart. 

"Bur right now my only question is like, what the hell." Mama always told me to talk to adults with respect, and I guess that applies here but in light of recent events, I think I'll just talk how I want to. "And where the fuck-" okay, maybe I'm swearing a little too much. I've got it out before the cameras, y'know. Yeah, that sounds right. "-is Lysander?!"

It was my fault.

Just like Hyram always said, I was the one to blame. Even when it was something that had nothing to do with me, it was still somehow my problem. I was the cause of all his pain, as well as everybody else’s. It never made sense, I never quite understood it, but now I do. This time there were no questions asked.

It was all my fault.

Caleb Genesiss waited on the other side of those doors and I have no one to blame besides myself.

She had given me my token; she was Bambi’s best friend. Her name was not randomly picked from that bowl. They had warned me, the Capitol. They told me that if I dare even place a toe out of line that the one’s I care about would be punished. There weren’t many options for them to choose from, mostly everyone was disposable to me. Caleb’s name was a warning, a warning that Bambi would be next.

I swear I had been behaving. Ever since Caleb’s name was called, I’d been running every day since my crown was placed atop my head over and over again, looking for a mistake, even the smallest slip up. They had never been pleased that I won. I was supposed to die long before the finale, my second chance was meant to be futile, but I had won, my last breath stuck deep in my chest. They gave me the rules immediately, they let me know exactly where my place was, at the bottom. Every time I entered the Capitol they placed a glass in my hand and gave me the look. I was supposed to be drunk; I was meant to keep up the image. I was meant to forever be the girl who got lucky.

But they were sure to remind me just how unlucky I was.

This was the closest I’ve been to wanting to drink again. The two bottles in my hands were oh so tempting. All I had to do was go back to my room, open one of the bottles, lay down and hope to never wake back up again. But I couldn’t, not yet at least. Instead I exhaled deeply one last time and walked through the doors into the main cabin just as Caleb was finishing speaking.

”Where, the fuck is Lysander?”

The other boy sat there looking expectantly as Patricia, waiting for her help. I did my best not to snort, good luck getting any lifesaving advice from her. The two bottles in my hand grew heavier for some reason, but it was too late now. I placed the two on the table, one for the each of them, a bow tied neatly around the neck. They landed with an awkward clunk.

”This is how I made it through, hopefully it can help you too. Good luck.”

I couldn’t look at her, not even when she was just inches away. Because deep down I knew.
It was all my fault.