Ancient Scars (Open)

When darkness falls,
You can see the stars.
<><><><><><><><>

The house is a nightmare for me. Memories are locked in the walls, which have not been painted over yet. I recognize the familiar dips and rises. This house was poorly built, but it was warm. Not to mention, it certainly beat a box on the streets. To my parents, it was perfect. But now, their old, worn furniture is replaced by these bright, new things. They're out of place in my house, like a bright blue flower in a patch of red ones. I frown, pausing for a moment in the middle of the room. It hurts to look at it all. I swallow, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. Even the smell is different. In my old home, it always smelled like burning wood and a hint of floral. My mother's perfume. Now, everything smells fresh and clean. Unnatural.

We can bring it all back. But you have to let us help you.

I become annoyed. A feeling that breaks through haunting sorrow and the numbness that so recently has taken a hold of me. I am letting them help me. I'm listening, aren't I?

You're listening. But not obeying. Obey us. Pay attention to us. We tell no lies.

It's true. I've been listening. But I have been doing what they want me too. I went back and waited for Flight to awaken, when they had told me specifically to leave her behind. It was a sign of weakness. A sign that sanity had been heard, and obeyed. And sanity made me weak. It made me have emotions. And it's essential to not have those. Not now. I must listen to them. And I must obey.

She is stronger than you.

I knew that. I always knew that. But for some reason, hearing them say that makes me feal... weak? Uncertain? I'm supposed to be the one who's in charge. If she's stronger... it seems to also mean she's better. And for some reason, I don't want that to be. I don't want her to be stronger or better than me. It's a desperate feeling I have no control over. And I don't like feeling desperate. I don't like feeling anything at all.

She will turn against you. You must be ready.

I nod. As if they are real. As if there are really people in front of me, whispering these things in my ear. But of course, there aren't. These voices are in my head. Nowhere else. But for some reason, they seem very, very real. But to insanity, the line between real and fantasy is blurred. And so these voices do exist to me. And I do believe them. Flight will turn against me. I must be ready.

I walk to the door as if I'm walking through a dream. They weren't smart enough to lock it. The squeaking sound is the same as I remember it. And there they are, huddled together. The mother, and two children. But where is the father?

My eyes scan the room, and I frown, feeling slightly uneasy. He wouldn't just leave them like that. Is this a trap? But no, my eyes find no sign of him among the new furniture. It's hard for me to believe he would abandon them, though. Something's not right. I walk slowly in. Where's Flight? Somewhere else in the house? Outside?

This makes me uneasy, too. Two threats to me are missing. The father, who is larger than I am. And Flight, who is... stronger. They're somewhere. And I know that somewhere could very well mean here. I'm officially nervous, now.

But I keep my face impassive. They are strangely silent, waiting to see what I do. I could really use them right now, though. For the first time since those threads broke and I tumbled into the roaring black sea of insanity, my confidence dims. My hand comes up to my throat, grasping the golden sun that hangs just out of reach. A nervous habit I developed after Flight gave it to me. My other hand, which grips the knife, becomes uncertain.

Don't hesitate. Strike.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I say quietly. "I don't want to. Although I cannot speak for everyone here." While she is confused, I think of Flight. It's impossible for me to not wonder where she has disappeared to. "I just want to know where my mother is."

My face hidden in shadows, the womans eyes cannot meet mine exactly. But they come close. And there is fear in them. Fear of me. Or maybe... for me? A stab of pain shoots through the back of my head, and my hand, which had momentarily been tangled in the necklace, broke free to grip at it. My fingertips dig through my hair, pressing against my scalp. What's going on? The pain is definitely internal, as my fingertips find the skin without flaws. I spin around, expecting to see some attacker there. But there is only the wall.

Of course. You do not think a regular person could cause this pain, do you? Now, listen to us for once.

"I am listening!" I hiss, and the mother only stares at me, finally realizing what the crazy look in my eyes is.

The pain goes away as quickly as it came, and I'm left with a throbbing. How could they cause that? They're just voices. Aren't they? Yes. Yes, they are. My imagination is just twisting. There was never any real pain. Right?

"We don't know who you're talking about," pleads the woman.

Frustrating, I take a step forward, into the moonlight. "Yes! Yes, you do! Don't lie to me! You know who I am, and you know why I'm here!"

Suddenly, the woman's face goes pale, suddenly cloaked in fear and disbelief. She shakes her head and squeezes her eyes shut, unable to believe what she's seeing. When she opens her eyes again, she speaks in a hoarse whisper. "M-Maria?"

Recognizing the name immediately, it takes all my energy to prevent myself from leaping forward. Maria. My mother's name. "Yes! Where is she?"

The woman shakes her head again and is silent, her jaw trembling. The little onces slide back, stretching their mother's shirt for something to die behind. Only scared little faces half hidden in shadows are visible. I ignore them.

I didn't come here tonight to meet Flight. I didn't come to see these children, or this woman. My feet found their way home for only one reason. Warm memories called me, tempting me into my old life. My easier life. My life I could live again. And there would be one woman who would always forgive me. Always love me. Never be busy with... others.

I came to find my mother. And I'm not leaving until I do.


((OOC: I apologize for how bad it is. I just couldn't get into this one for some reason... oh, and the father's hiding somewhere. I think I'm going to have him strike next post, if that's okay? It's up to you whether Flight spots him or not.))

When darkness falls,
You can see the stars.
<><><><><><><><>

You miss your mother, don't you?

The question is a stupid one, and I almost roll my eyes, despite all the anger and determination that moves in waves through my blood. The sense of hurt and confusion and loss that is hidden underneath it all aches even more for a moment, and I see the entire point of what was asked. A certain amount of pain has been drawn from the swirling emotions that hide, acting like a leash to me. Something to hold me back if necessary. But they can use nothing against me.

Flight comes in, appearing mindless and formidable. Lack of usual light turns her eyes into two globes of amber, trapping her pupils. The absense of thought there differs greatly from the normal look of absolute emotion- usually rage- that I so often have found there in the past. For a moment, I am confused, as she has never acted like this before. But then again, there are many states I am sure she has gone through that are unknown to me. For just a moment, I move my eyes towards hers, into hers, searching for answers.

They are found in the slight satisfaction when she gazes at the family. I lick my chapped lips in slight understanding. I also frown, though, still not quite seeing the advantageous aspect of her part. However, I will not deny her this amusement. I am not the only one with a quick and clever mind here.

My arm sweeps upward quickly, gesturing to her with a great amount of ownership in my eyes, although Flight is most certainly not in any way under my control or command. I smile slightly, nodding at her the way I would nod at a pet who had just followed orders perfectly. "Allow me to introduce Flight. She looks dangerous, but don't worry. I assure you that she is far stronger than she looks."

I glance at them, a look of complete power in my eyes and in my voice. "And very, very hard to control."

How many times has she tried to kill me? Once? Twice? Of course, that was never really Flight. It was whatever was inside her that constantly begged to be let out. I became the one who got away, and that didn't upset me. It made me proud. Because it meant that Flight could resist. She could still fight the temptations. And eventually, I became unafraid of it, for I knew it couldn't harm me.

However, I wouldn't be surprised if it still hunts me down.

Another thought pushes at the back of my mind, and I step forward once more. The mother flattens herself against the wall, putting her arms out to guard her children. Fear is replaced my a determination that almost makes my heart ache, and I pause.

"How do you feel right now?" I ignore Flight and the children, and focus in on this woman. "Imagine what it would be like for a mother to lose her only child. The pain would, no doubt, be awful."

The woman stares at me, glances at Flight, and then focuses on me again, waiting for the trap she's sure I'm leading her into. Then, seeing the absence of a signal, she nods slight. "Unimaginable."

I bring my hand up to my necklace again, fiddling with it, feeling the familar curves and edges. I drop it back, and look at her again, straight into her eyes. "I'm trying to heal that pain by finding her again. I made a mistake, and I want to take it all back. I want to undo everything that has happened since the night I ran away. Please, just help me find her."

You are revealing to much. Appearing weak.

I don't care, I think, pressing my lips together and waiting for the explosion of pain. It doesn't come. They are silent, perhaps curious as to what I am about to do. Although I doubt it. Something else is up, but I don't bother to try and find out now. It is not what matters most at the moment.

The woman stares at me and remains silent. Frustrated, my fingers form fists at my side, turning my knuckles even paler. Her children whimper and this, and I stare at one, reading her fear and sorrow and disbelief. I know what she feels. She just wants to wake up from this nightmare that haunts me.

Well, the feeling's mutual.

"Flight," I say quietly, uncertain of what to do next. The voices try to silence me, telling me I should not trust her. The woman becomes tense. I look at her, and shake my head slightly. "Come."

When darkness falls,
You can see the stars.
<><><><><><><><>

"Luna!" she calls, and I turn away from the flower to look at her. "Luna, it's time for dinner!"

I straighten my legs and stretch, twisting my arms around and spreading my fingers towards the sky before rushing toward the door of our house. My mother smiles, a beautiful sight in the orange light of the setting sun. It fills me with warmth and I race into her arms, nearly knocking her over.

She laughs, running a hand through my long black hair. Her fingers catch on a comb, and she gently seperates it. I arch my back and look up at her, smiling. "What's put you in such a good mood?"

I hold up the flower with a huge smile. It's delicate white petals tremble in the slight breeze. I've squeezed the stem so hard that it wilts over, with a bit of juice leaking onto my palm. She smiles, using her finger to lift it from the back of my hand and towards her face so she can see it better.

"It's for you," I say shyly.

She tilts her head to the side ever so slightly, looking down at me warmly. The love in her eyes is so clear, I feel warmth and a sense of protection flow through me. She kisses the top of my head gently."What a beautiful flower. I love it, Luna."

<><><><><><><><>

I watch the woman with distaste, seeing her back shake with sobs. The little boy shivers below his mother, whimpering every now and then, his eyes squeezed shut. The daughter is pressed against the wall, watching them with a fear that makes the voices giggle even more.

Certainly, that can't be all that they know. It seems so unlikely that they would buy from a person they barely knew anything about. Although this is District Nine, and looking at how thin all three are, I have no doubt that they are rather poor. This house must have seemed like a miracle to them. But no, it's not their miracle. It's mine. And I don't want to share it.

I quickly remind myself that I'm not here to reclaim my house, though. I'm here to find my mother. I give a small cough, and the mother lifts her tear streaked face to look at me. Her lips still whisper a lullaby, although I hear no words. She strokes the tears from her son's pale cheeks with one hand and reaches out to her daughter with the other. For a moment, my heart aches, and all I can think of is my mother reaching out like that and finding nothing there.

Suddenly, I have doubts. Maybe I shouldn't be doing this. The pain is clear in the mother's green eyes, and as she pulls her daughter close, I bite my bottom lip in uncertainty. A ghost of pity crosses over my face, and I tilt my head to the side slightly, observing. The love is obvious in the scene.

They know more. Find out what that is.

I press my lips together, and my frown deepens. This is wrong.

Do as we say.

The simple request throws me off balance for a moment. Do as they say. It's not harsh, like I thought it would be. It's calm and quiet, yet demanding. And it takes all of my strength to resist it.

This is wrong.

I hear Flight shout, but for some reason, I am unable to process it. The children press against their mother in fear, and the woman's mouth parts, as if to give a warning. The world outside of my mind becomes a world of sound and sudden movement. I feel as if I should be doing something. Moving or shouting like everyone else. But time seems to have slowed for some reason, and I can do nothing but stare in confusion.

Lu-

One minute, they are speaking, and the next, they are not. There isn't even a rise in their voice, as if they were cut off. Finally, there is only silence in my head. For a moment, I am relieved that they are gone. But then the pain hits.

It's like there's an explosion in the back of my head. Tears flood into my eyes, blurring my vision. The impact sends my flying forward. Before I can catch myself, my legs collapse beneath me, and I slam into the ground. My arms fall uselessly underneath me, and I lay limply on the floor, motionless. I feel blood seeping through my hair, parting and gathering the jet black strands. My instinct is to stop the blood, but I have no strength to even move a single finger. Suddenly, everything just aches, and I let out a low moan of pain before falling silent.

I should have never come tonight. I should have stayed away from this place. I wasn't ready. I should have not dragged Flight into this. I should have gone looking for help when I needed it. I should have resisted insanity. There were a lot of things I should have done, looking back. Every single thing led to this. This scene, with all the pain and blood and blackness.

This is all my fault.

When darkness falls,
You can see the stars.
<><><><><><><><>

It's like someone pressed the pause button on my life. Everything just kind of stops. There isn't even that fading into blackness kind of thing. One minute, I'm laying on the ground, the next... well, I'm not really sure where I am. It kind of feels like I'm in a pitch black ocean. I'm not touching ground, but I'm not exactly flying. I'm definitely not breathing, but my lungs don't ache.

Light that has no source floats around me, surrounding me in rings of a substance that can only be described as hypnotizing. There are no little pockets of air anywhere. Everything is completely flawless. I feel almost tired and lazy and relieved. The pain both inside and outside is gone, and I feel like an empty shell with emotions and thoughts randomly drifting through me, lost and clueless, but figuring they should still be there. My head hangs, staring below me at the endless nothing. I never thought death would feel so... without direction.

Pathetic girl. She actually thinks she has died.

My head jerks up at the voices, alarmed that they have once again entered the realm of my mind. I thought that maybe the impact would have knocked them out forever. It certainly brought my sanity back. They no longer speak to me, though. It seems they are conversing with another invisible being. And although their voices are still soft and as delicate as a flowers small petal, there is no longer kindness woven into the words. There is only a cruelty that strikes fear deep into me, which then triggers anger. How dare they return.

Perhaps the anger finds it's source from the steady stream of guilt that I feel run through me. I must blame myself, but it seems that this event is too big and the consequences are too terrible to have just been started by one person. They had part in this too. They were the ones who told me to yell at Flight. I lost my only friendship because of them. And now I am lost and alone and here, in this unusual place that has no entrance or exit. I glare at the lights, because it seems to be where the voices come from.I know I'm gone. Do not insult me with your obvious lies.

She doesn't believe us. She doesn't realize that we only speak the truth.

The rings shrink, comings closer toward me. I also try to become smaller, feeling that if I touch the light, something bad with happen. I press my arms tightly to my sides and narrow my eyes, liquid anger moving through my veins. This is all their fault. I am forever lost in this sea of tears.

This thought triggers several memories at once. Of that night that she took me to that one party. I remember how she almost killed herself jumping off that ledge. It gave me a heart attack. But I also remember a promise that I made when she was on the floor, the life drifting out of her. A promise that I intend to keep for as long as I can.

She actually believes Flight will remember that promise. She actually thinks she can keep it.

I twist around, letting out a howl. They have taunted me long enough. If they will not leave on their own, I will find a way to force them out. They have haunted my mind for too long, and I want silence up there. I do not need them and I do not want them. Leave.

She thinks we will actually stay? After we realized how pathetic and weak she is? The idea is laughable.

Relief quickly replaces rage. I let out a sigh. They will not influence any more mistakes. I will finally be left to myself, able to control my actions. Sanity will be mine. Something like this will not happen again.

The girl thinks this is all our fault. But she forgets that she is weak and so very close to death, and her friend is injured because of her. She forgets her part in this painful situation.

My eyes widen. Flight? Hurt? Because of me? All I can think of is how I promised myself I would never cause her anymore pain. I guess I broke that promise tonight. What if it's serious? What if she needs help? And it's my fault. They're right. I can't blame it all on them. They only fueled that fire that I started.

I can fix things in reality, though. I just have to get there. I can help Flight if it is serious, I can find my way out of this labyrinth of pain and anger and mistakes and consequences. I have to find a way back into consciousness. It's all that matters right now.

She thinks her friend is the one who needs help. Just wait until she wakes up and realizes the truth.

The truth. The truth, the truth, the truth. I don't think I know the meaning of that words anymore. It seems I've been lying to myself, they've been lying to me, life has been lying to me... all I want is the truth. It's all I've asked for. But I never really got it. And I will learn to live without it.

I don't need the truth. I just need you gone forever. Leave.

Poor little girl. You can't get rid of us that easy. They address me for the first time, and it makes me uneasy. Leave forever? Forever is too long. You are weak now, but you will grow strong once again. We promise you that. You've finally made that mistake you've been waiting for. Finally, it's over with. But trust us when we say this isn't the last one you will make.

My stomach twists around itself, and I look up uneasily, shifted ever so slightly. They have never spoken this much to me. And this warning... the way they say it makes me think it's true. It is a threat and a warning at the same time. I can't cause anymore pain. I've made too much already. You won't dare come back.

Oh Luna. You are a beautiful girl with a beautiful mind. Of course we'll be coming back.

<><><><><><><><>

I have no idea how long I've been unconscious. It doesn't feel like that long, which I am grateful for. But reality does not come quickly, and for about a minute, I am left in the uncomfortable stage of feeling myself surface back into the world where things make sense.

The first thing I am aware of is movement. Moving forward, but also slightly up and down. The pain comes, like a firework in my head, but I do my best to ignore it. The next thing I realize is someone is holding me. Carrying me. I feel fear shoot through me as I realize that someone is taking me away from the house. It could be a Peacekeeper who happened to find the scene. It could be the father, ready to leave me to freeze to death in the snow. It could be anyone.

But then I hear her voice, and although I can't quite make sense of the words, I know it's Flight. I want to move, to open my eyes, to speak, but for some reason, I remain limp. I have not yet regained the strength I need to do those things. But still, I try. And I manage to open my jaw ever so slightly. A hope.

"Fli..." I murmur. It is quiet and unfinished, but it is spoken. I don't attempt to finish it. I have to move on. I have to keep trying.

I take a few moments to gather strength. My second attempt comes out a a quiet moan, and I'm left with no energy at all. Inside, I frown, determined to get the message across.

"I'm... s-s-sorry," I manage. The consonants are shattered and vowels shaken, but it is a sentence either way. And hopefully, she'll understand it. I have so much to say, but I can't even open my eyes to see how she is hurt, so I simply allow myself more time to gain back control.

The future is coming too fast, and I know I'll have to pay for my actions. I should be grateful that I have time to prepare myself for whatever pain is sure to come.

When darkness falls,
You can see the stars.
<><><><><><><><>

She takes a step away from me, the pain clear in her muddy green eyes. I press my lips together tightly, telling myself that I won't cry even though I'm only ten years old and she was the only friend I had. I just wish that there was some hesitation in her eyes. Some regret. We were friends, after all. It would be better than the accusation that is so easy to see.

"I'm sorry," I say, my voice broken. She takes another step back, pulling her arm closer. The blood drips down slowly. It's a shallow cut. Probably won't even leave a scar. But it's there and that's all she needs.

"This is your fault," she says, her voice hoarse. "It's all your fault. My parents don't trust me and now I'm hurt and this is all because of you!"

She shouts the last word, and I stumble back, wanting to be angry at her so she would know how I feel. But there is no rage that is directed anywhere but toward myself, and, with tears streaming down my face, I spin around and run away, wishing I had never thrown that knife just a second too soon.

<><><><><><><><>

I hurt people. It's a fact that I despise, but it is true. Friendship only led to pain, every single time, and I hate myself for that. I hate that others get hurt because of me and my mistakes and it's just not fair. All I want is to be able to have friends and not cause pain to myself or to them. After that day, after I hurt her, I avoided people. I figured that if I didn't have friends, no one got hurt. But then Ari found me and I became a rebel and it was impossible to avoid meeting new people. I felt awkward and afraid, so I stayed away from them as much as I could.

But then I fell.

Even when I was just starting to get to know Jasik and Flight, I caused them pain. I remember Flight stabbing herself and me stabbing myself and blood and medicine we couldn't afford and a huge problem we couldn't solve. And then there was fighting and not trusting and we all just ended up exhausted and in pain and Flight had lost control on several occasions. All my fault, of course. All my fault.

I hiss in a breath as the ice cold meets my head, the cool air entering my mouth and giving me some extra energy. My eyes drift open, finding the world just a blur at first, and it takes a second for them to focus. And then I see her face and even though it's just a glimpse I have to close my eyes again, because there is too much blood and hidden pain. A tear manages to sleep through my lashes and glides down my cheek, sticky and warm against ice cold skin. She is hurt and that's not right because I promised I wouldn't cause her pain again.

With all the strength I have, I move. It's just a slight shift, but it almost hurts. My eyes open, wide and determined. Joints move slowly at first, like machinary that hasn't been used in a while. But, with gaining strength, I bring my arm up and grab her wrist, pushing it away and towards her, gazing at her with sad eyes. "No."

I shift some more, reaching with my other arm to grab the coat and dragging it toward her. My movements are shakey and slow, but in a few moments, I've got it right next to my chest. Without hesitation, I hand it to her. "I was mean and cruel and wrong and I just caused pain, like I always do. Don't waste your time on me when you can help yourself first."

The two sentences leave me panting, but I continue to shove the coat and the ice pack towards her, begging her to accept. "Please, Flight. This is my fault, and I should be the one to pay for it, not you."

I press my lips together tightly, because if I say anything else I will really start to cry, and now's not the time. Tears get you nowhere. I have to fix this, because after all, this is all because of me. If I had never come tonight, none of this would be happening, and Flight would be okay. I'd be okay. The voices would never have come and then left threatening to return. They were right, though. I had felt this coming for a long time. I guess there was nothing I could really do to stop it.

"I didn't mean what I said to you," I say once I have gained control of the tears again. "I'm so, so sorry Flight. I didn't mean any of it and I won't do it again, I promise."

My voice stops abruptedly after that last word, because I realized what I'd said. Fresh waves of sorrow move through me, and I do my best to hide them by shoving the coat against her with determination. But my words keep repeating in my head.

Just another promise I can go and break.


(OOC: I apologize for the badness of it. By the time I realized it was going nowhere, I was already 500 words in and I didn't want to delete all that.)

When darkness falls,
You can see the stars.
<><><><><><><><>

They always frown,
When I stand tall,
But then they smile,
And watch me fall.

It is a rare occasion when something hidden is completely secreted from me. The outside world and its people have never been a perplexity. The eyes are the window to the soul, and I can see everything there. Emotion, no matter how carefully hidden, seems to always radiate from just behind the dull colored irises of another's eyes. Some do take a little more work than others, but most simply make their thoughts and concerns clear, without ever really realizing it. Whether I notice what is there or not has never really been my desision, although I humor myself by trying to think it is. But my eyes are a curse, no matter how much others try to tell me they are 'different' or 'unusual'. They don't understand the fact that I am not only refering to their appearance, but also their ability to peer into another person, and see them for who they are.

Flight is one of the few exceptions. Although sometimes, I can tell when she's hiding something, I can never see what it is. She has mastered the art of lying and being arcane, and not even I can break through her stone walls that she built up such a long time ago. Her amber eyes seem to glow in the firelight, an almost scary yet facinating image. I frown slightly, trying to find lies in her oculi, but of course, find nothing. She is not the first who has been able to pull off this, but all others had dead eyes. Empty spheres that were frozen in a state of absolute nothingness. These people often scared me, because even a warm smile looked false on their faces. Flight's eyes aren't like that. They are captivating and unusual and so very alive that I can't help but be constantly amazed by them, even when one of them is blank and unseeing. I remember even before that scar, though. I remember as far back as a time when both eyes were unseeing, on the day we met. That's when I decided what she was. Not a horrible person. Not a monster. No, Flight was and still is much greater than those things. She radiates power and strength, something that is rare. She is a single star in the sea of blackness that is the night sky.

She is the sun.

Everything fell,
And it just wasn't fair.
I wanted friends,
But I couldn't care.

Although the light continues to fade at an unnoticably slow rate, it is still there, inside her, pulsing to the same rythem as her heart. It lives in her, and it will die in her, although I cannot think of that right now. I shall not think of her death- which I will do everything in my power to prevent- when my own is so close, hovering just far away enough to be considered safe. As odd as it is, I'm not afraid of what may happen. Death, although so close, seems impossible right now. I can feel life gripping me firmly. Much is betiding in my life at the moment, and the torture is only starting. It can't possibly just stop now. It's never that easy.

Her question snaps me out of my thoughts, and I study her face. A streak of red masks park of it, and the scar and her blind eye makes the other half. I press my lips together in uncertainty, seeing a secret hiding in her. It wouldn't be fair to ask her, though. Not after all I've kept from her... not after everything she still doesn't know. I reach up to grasp my necklace, making circles with my finger to wrap the chain around it tightly. I remember when Flight gave this to me. It was raining, and we were camping out in a newly made shelter. Dwyn was fast asleep when she pulled out the sun and told me about her past. That was a long time ago, when I had a home and wasn't slowly loosing my mind.

Things changed after I left the base. The streets turned out to be a much more dangerous place than I orginally thought, and to my abhorrence, I learned how to survive out there much quicker than one should have been able to. Throwing a knife came in handy more than once, and I became very grateful for it. However, a knife did not provide me shelter. If I was lucky, I'd find a box. But the nights were just so cold, I never really completely fell asleep. Even if I did somehow manage to drop into slumber, I would end up waking up sometime later that night, freezing. Once, I found a long and worn blanket with a few holes in it, and managed to get a full night's sleep, but the next morning, I awoke and it was gone. Even now, the thought of someone watching me and stealing my blanket while I slept scares me. It was not pleasant out there, but I survived. And I became one of them. There was even that night that the teenager, just a year older than me, thought she could fight me. I had her running within minutes. It's almost alarming to me, how easily I adapted. But then there was that afternoon, I was brokenly searching for food in the trash, pushing aside filthy items without any disgust, and then...

I am lost,
And so I cry,
But they just laugh,
And pass me by.

I stop myself. There is no need to look back on that event. I remember how vulnerable I was, huddled next to the trash can, clawing at what refused to work. It frightened me so badly, I eventually just gave up, lay down, and sobbed, my back shaking up and down as I howled. I'm sure people saw me, but were too afraid to come near- they already doubted my sanity. Perhaps they were right to do so. I was lost already, broken, with my heart empty and my mind unstable. Those were horrible times that I hate looking back on. Filled with hunger and cold and pain as people attacked me again and again, trying to get food or money to help them survive. Bruises and cuts still stay hidden and unnoticed, for I am always a mess. The only evident injury is a long, deep gash up on my forearm, but it is hidden beneath stained banages and the long sleeve of my shirt. That is not a fond memory, either. He threatened me, I didn't believe him, he dropped his sword, I let my guard down, and suddenly, pain had exploded in my arm. I had to use the last of my money to buy banadages, and came so close to having to sell my necklace. That's what everyone was aiming for. The golden sun that dangles from my neck. It could bring in enough money to feed a person who lived in the ally for days. I ended up having to hide the sun under the collar of my shirt, but the golden chain would still shine as clear as day. I refused to put it in my pocket, though. The only time I ever removed it from it's place around my neck was when I had to sleep.

I gaze up into Flight's eyes, debating whether to answer honestly or not. She could take it. She's strong, and she's been through what I'm going through. Perhaps I should even tell her about... but no, I can't. I won't. Right now, I am weak. Fragile. Fading. Even now, I have a hard time focusing on my thoughts. I have to be honest with her now, though. She deserves it more than anything, since she's stuck by my side through all of this. She should have left when she could, and I could have gotten what I deserved. It would have been better that way.

The past is done,
And now I'm here.
With guilt haunting me,
And pain so clear.

I press my lips together, looking away from her and studying the floorboards with sudden interest. My heart is gripped with fear as all those horrible memories flood back, and I just want to huddle in a small ball in front of the fire and cry and tell her everything. Even what happened that one day. But now I must keep my own secrets. I can't be the girl that everyone knows everything about anymore, not when I know that I will have to return to the streets after this. No one can know of my weakness.

I take a deep breath, wondering exactly who Flight's contacts were. Surely I couldn't have been that hard to find. True, I hid from everyone in a box for about a week, and avoided people at all costs. I attacked whoever approached me. I wore dark glasses to hide my eyes. But still... did I really make myself that hard to find? Even without my eyes, I am pretty recognizable, with my pale skin and dark clothes. I shake my head slightly, which sends pain shooting through every vein in my body. Things are getting to complicated too fast. I don't like lying to her. I really don't. But it feels like the only way to cover my pain is with untruths. So instead of going into a complicated explanation of everything that happened to me, being careful to cover the bad parts with lies, I just look at her and raise my eyebrows in false surprise. "Nowhere special. Just the streets."

When darkness falls,
You can see the stars.
<><><><><><><><>

Perhaps knowing that I will eventually have to tell her the truth about everything is what causes my stomach to twist into a knot of dread. There are things I won't ever want to admit, for recollection of them is just too painful, and I can't depend on others to hold my problems up on their shoulders any more. It hurts knowing that I must suffer through this battle on my own, but it's for the best. It felt good to have friends who watched over me, and cared about me. But I don't need people anymore. I doubt I ever did. It would be better for everyone if I just avoided making friends. Avoided people as a whole. Something inside me is screaming for me to get out of this shed, get away from this person, and leave this district. And, if I wasn't injured, I'd probably obey.

It's not just what I've felt here in District Nine. It's what I've seen. All my life, I've managed to avoid seeing the worst, with the exception of the Games. I never really had a chance to open my eyes and see the real world around me. When I lived with my mother, it was a fight to survive. She was being hit by her employer, and that was the only kind of pain in others that I really saw. The fact that I was out of the loop back then was not very surprising, though. My whole life was go to school, come home, sleep until midnight, and then hunt for the game that would keep us alive for another few days. My mother's job would, of course, help enormously. But the money I earned was what really pushed us just above starving. It was simple, really. If I didn't catch anything, we didn't eat. That was the only pain and worry and fear I knew. But now I know there is so much more. I may not have seen all the terrible things Flight has, but I'm clawing my way up there.

On the streets, the worst part is not the constant fear. It's not even the fighting. No, it's what I see. The old men and women who huddle my the walls, turned over on their sides, with knees pulled close to their stomachs in a position of ultimate defeat. The way ther looked at me was not in fear. Closer to something like disgust, or anger, or annoyance. A secret message passed almost too easily. Give me food or leave. Something I learned not only from receiving, but also from conveying. When I was huddled in that box for a week, peering out the clumps of greasy hair, I must have appeared the same way. Only a very small amount actually gave me something. I never thanked them. Only shut the carboard flaps, damp and weak from the last rain, and ate it as fast as I could. On the streets, manners did not exist. Only hunger. Hunger and brokenness.

Perhaps what disturbed me in a different way, though, was the teenagers. Most were younger than I was, but they had lived on the streets longer. The steel in their eyes scared me, for there was no pity left. No hesitation that still lived in me. Only force and hate and most of all hunger. It was obvious that they had been in other fights. The scars that snaked around their arms were stories written in silvery white ink, giving away anything I couldn't read in their eyes. That was what scared me the most. The fact that I could find nothing but starvation and mistreatment of both mind and body in their eyes. Not love or fear or even a drop of pity. No, they had adapted too well to the dangerous living environment, and all that was left was hate. It made my heart ache. They weren't even as old as I was, and they had learned to feel nothing in battle. They had hardened their hearts, pressing harder and harder at the walls until finally, the soft loving thing that everyone has when they are born was turned to stone. And it spread like the plague throughout the rest of them, until they were nothing more than a moving statue that's only motive was to find food.

They'd never know anything else.

"Almost a month," I whisper, staring at a dark spot on the wall. "Twenty five days." I pause, calculating. "600 hours."

I never gave up my love or emotion. It was dangerous, yes, but I felt that my pain was not yet great enough. I didn't want to become one of them. It was stupid, though. It is stupid. The thought dawns on me without any real warning. I'll have to return right after this to my life on the dark streets. So why bother trying to hold onto what I know is quickly slipping away? I will come out of this situation scarred, regardless of whether I have emotions left or not. Perhaps, without the pain, I might stand a chance of surviving a few more months on the street? Or maybe, without the ties of feelings that keep me here, I could finally run, free of everything and finally just able to do what I want instead of hurting because of others and have them hurt because of me?

"It's time," I mouth silently, and sigh, closing my eyes. I feel, one my one, the emotions leaving, zipping out of me like fireworks that have longed for too long to break free. Each individual emotion surfaces a memory, some so ancient that they play back like an old movie in my mind, with a blurred image and parts missing here and there. Some seem warm and fuzzy, others as cold and lifeless as ice. Everytime, I resist trying to hold onto them, to feel them once more, to keep them. It's hard, though. So hard. But then I remind myself of the pain and of my future plans and of the fact that I will be returning to the damp, dirty streets I wandered from, and it becomes all too easy. However, when happiness and love come, it takes an extra effort to push them out. But finally, I am left alone, without pain, and I'm surprised at how... empty I feel.

It's impossible not to compare myself to a statue. Right now, I just feel so completely still, with the exception of the painful rise and fall of my chest. The blood drips down the back of my head like warm rain, and I can hear it drip onto the floor. The flow has decreased though, which either means that Flight has managed to slow it down or I'm running out of blood to lose. Since I don't feel light headed anymore, I'm guessing it's the first.

I open my eyes again, knowing only moments went by. Nothing seems different. The fire still spits sparks at us, in it's own small rage of being brought back to life. The floor is still cold, along with the air. Flight is still bleeding, with an almost gentle look on her face that I don't see there often, and don't fully understand. It's been such a long time since someone has actually looked at my pain and cared, that I can't really see why she would ever want to pause her life to ensure that mine continues. Perhaps I've seen a few too many empty, uncaring eyes, or perhaps the confusion comes from the ice that managed to grow inside me during those long, hard days. Either way, I know that it is not the outside world that was supposed to change. Not her who would suddenly be different. The only difference I would find would be in myself, if I cared enough to look. Which I don't. Because I do still feel something. Some form of pain. But it is foreign and different and so much easier to deal with than the more intense version I've been feeling lately, so I just sigh, satisfied with myself.

I built a new feeling inside me. A brand new kind of nothingness that no one- not even Flight- will ever understand. Perhaps those who actually know me will think that this was a mistake, and they will never understand that it was the right choise. It doesn't matter, though. I don't need their approval. Because while the feelings left, Luna didn't. Midnight didn't. No, the stars in my eyes still shine.

Each and every one radiates with it's own unique emptiness.

((OOC: Oh, Luna... you annoy me yet please me at the same time. DxD))