91st Quotes

the reaping

As soon as the escort walks into the stage the crowd hushes, hanging onto each word and watching with desperate, hungry eyes when they dip their hand into the bowl, carefully pulling out a name. But as I watched the man on the stage the only thing I could think was that the bubblegum pink of his coat made him looked washed out, and the heart shaped sunnies were so 2 years ago.

Alice remembers her mother saying that she’s never real unless someone is watching.

“You only exist when people want you,” she’d said as Ingrid put a hot iron to Alice’s hair.

The diamonds along her ribcage burn hot even as she thinks this. Like they’re fucking omens or something. Love had always said that there was snake poison in the ink - that’s why it burns, Lux. But he’d always been full of absolute shit. You could never believe a word out of his silver-tongued stupid fucking mouth.

The light cutting through her room's darkness from the screen provided a blinding realization. Her father had taken the fall for her actions, and now they were both paying the price.

She scaled the steps slowly and turned to face her accusers. The District was probably glad to be rid of her. Nobody liked a witch.

Death doesn't bother him. It's something that's going to happen, and maybe along the way he can make a name for himself. That's more important than silver and gold.

Something changed. Something in the space between each exhale makes it feel so impossible now. Inta did not come back and the ocean became a mouth overnight, its tongue crashing and turning over the edges of his name, jaw clenched so hard it shakes all the way to his chest. It is a feeling. It is an ending of all things.

But what she doesn't know won't kill her -- but I'll sure as fuck have to win if I want to be the one to see her take her last breath.

Good thing I'm not squeamish.

I'll kill as many as I have to.

One of the boys beside him looks up, but Kaius keeps forward. Good things happen to good people, huh?

Flynn had been small and he'd won. That had to mean that it wasn't completely impossible for her to do the same, right?

I hated him for thinking we could make something of our vices to save the world, and that maybe he actually was, so instead, I decided it was best to just pretend that he was dead.

They stand like aged dandelions in the square later, proud and tall, hair white and gleaming. The others are afraid of them. Freyr can taste it in the air.

"Freyr Forrester!"

Sometimes destiny is cruel.

"I volun-"

"December Whitaker!"

Very cruel.

"Well, alright then."

Your face is a resting, content smile, and your eyes are cigarette burns glowing in the amber light.

He went to war with a black tie whose white polka dots bounced along its seams, lost when it tried to strangle him and settled for a red bow tie instead.

There's nothing to validate the way she wants so desperately to be free of this place, but then there's the echo of two gunshots in the dead of night, the thud of her camera slipping from her hands, the screams fading into static into sirens. She only wanted to bear witness to history.

He wonders if anyone else notices the silence the way he does.

We spent summer evenings out under the stars, the two of us.

Not for gay shit.

But to like, look up at the stars and try to catch a cloud to carry us out of here.

But his eyes do not falter. I feel their hold bolt me in place too, frozen for a moment as though I am a beast about to walk through the chute. I look up, around, and ultimately at it. At the knowledge of what has happened.

I was watched.

I was watched by an audience of a hundred hollow eyes.

I reminded myself. I have the strength of the predecessors - the same ones who won a war.

I am an O'Malley, and they would remember me as such.

She was always a gentle soul, and Andrew knew if there was a lick of goodness within him it was her doing.

He just didn't know if that was enough. He didn't know if it should be enough.

I stand awkwardly in the middle, freckles and moles that look like splotches of dirt and two streaks of yellow rebellion tucked behind my ears.

Their grief will be empty, silent. It always has been, it always will be.

I don't know if they'll visit me before I leave.

I hope they don't. It's easier to be gone already.