the order of things (umber)
Oct 2, 2024 0:22:32 GMT -5
Post by florentine, d4b ❁ on Oct 2, 2024 0:22:32 GMT -5
florentine.
in four days the others have morphed from strangers into people. i preferred them when they were blank faces, detached from their mannerisms and idiosyncrasies, branded by their words and ticks. they become more than they were before; not just blonde but histrionic, not tall but meek, too, not simply frowning but surly, brash, afraid, misses his mother. this sick summer-camp proxy is holding my face up to the binoculars, not allowing me to look away, insisting that i see them before they ask me to kill them. adds to the melodrama.
i give in to the uncomfortable notion; it may be unpleasant, but it benefits me, too, if i can look past my internal urge to close my eyes and scream. i find a pack of cards in a drawer i shouldn't have been looking in - just a standard deck, surely something neutral, an even-footing in every district. i sit playing spider with myself until the others have all but filed out of the room, taking their personalities and their problems with them.
one of the stragglers - the smaller boy from twelve - is all sharp cheekbones and bony wrists; if i saw him in four, i'd pick him as a street urchin. he looks like life has kicked him around a bit - but, maybe i'm just homesick, or drawing from district twelve's most deep-rooted stereotypes. they're all starving there, i hear, no fish to feed them. can't fill your stomach with coal. ironic, to be privileged in my homelessness.
"hey, kid," i say, quietly, so only he can hear me. "want to play?" without waiting for his answer i deal him a hand, pointing to the seat across from me. the last couple of tributes trickle out, probably headed back to the training centre to toss around some poorly-aimed projectiles until dinner time. i relax, letting out the lungful of air i didn't realise i was carrying around.
"saw you flipped off the camera at the reaping, by the way. that was cool."