I'm Just A Kid [Razor, Day 6]
Aug 13, 2011 20:03:37 GMT -5
Post by charade on Aug 13, 2011 20:03:37 GMT -5
Razor Creel
“The best thing about tonight's that we're not fighting, Could it be that we have been this way before?
I know you don't think that I am trying I know you're wearing thin down to the core.”
Night fell, cooling the atmosphere and granting Razor's damaged body temporary respite from the ever increasing cruelty of the sun. If he felt any lingering shame for abandoning the kindly, frail girl that had bothered to help him, It didn't show. Pain arched through his neck; for the past hour or so he had stared intently at the sky, waiting for the anthem to play. The wait was hurting him more than the blisters on his legs.
“But hold your breath, Because tonight will be the night that I will fall for you.”
Replaying the events on the previous day in his head, he wondered if he should have or could have done things differently. Saskia had been so close, and yet not close enough. Every time he had reached for her hand, one of those mutant insects had jabbed at his arm with a needle like proboscis. Or stinger. It was all the same anyway. The horde of flying freaks had probably been meant to scatter the remaining tributes. To leave them frightened and confused with no sense of their surroundings. Well. If that had been the plan, it had certainly worked on him.
“Over again, don't let me change my mind.”
Razor would have walked through the whole night if his protesting body had let him. His flagging strength had argued vehemently against his efforts and he had collapsed in the darkness, having pushed himself to the point of exhaustion. The excursion to wherever he was now had pushed him to farther than he thought possible. Continuing to gaze unblinking at the dark sky, he anxiously awaited the arrival of the fanfare. The minutes ticked by and he shook his head irritably. The anthem was played at the same time every night. So why was it taking so long?
“This is not what I intended, I always swore to you I’d never fall apart.”
As if on cue, the sound of music reached his ears and the symbol of the capitol lit up the sky. Now for the moment of truth. He got to his feet and braced himself, he watched as the faces began to appear. The anthem started with the one armed girl from district one; followed by the spear wielder from district three. Good. That career pack had self-destructed, just like he had told them a few days ago. The next face was the long-haired punk from district nine. That meant the other two careers were out there. The bloody girl and Seaweed Sand shore. Or something. The younger tribute from six was likely alive as well. Well, that was everyone.
“You always thought that I was stronger. I may have failed, But I have loved you from the start.”
Wondering absently if Saskia had killed any of those pricks, he was caught completely caught of guard when the anthem did not end, but displayed another face. Brown hair. Smooth skin. Full lips. Milky white eyes. The number nine in the corner of the image. No. No. God no. Sinking to his knees as the anthem faded, his eyes bored into the ground below him. At least until his vision blurred and he realized he was crying. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks as his shoulders began to shake. Panem was probably getting a kick out of this. A career from district two, a district he himself had said was the toughest one in all of Panem, was being reduced to an emotional wreck over a dead blind girl.
“So breathe in so deep, Breathe me in.”
As his heart threatened to burst in his chest, he choked back a sob and drew his sword. Fixing his gaze on the turf in front of him he struck it angrily and repeatedly, sending flora and clods of earth into the air. This continued for awhile while screaming at the sky, bellowing h is refusal to believe that she was gone. Gone before she ever had a chance to really be his. What had she thought about him? He would never know.
“I'm yours to keep and hold onto your words, Cause talk is cheap.”
Enraged that he was denied a final goodbye, the earth beneath him suffered further abuse from his blade. This activity only ceased when the adrenaline levels in his body slowed their production. Feeling suddenly drained, he lay down on the torn up ground. He was supposed to see her through to the end. Failure at anything he set his mind to was not acceptable. And yet, here he lay having failed at something he was only beginning to understand. She was gone. After pushing Lethe away, he was alone. Alone for the first time in the arena. He lacked direction. Purpose. No, No he didn't. He had a new mission now. He could find saskia's killer and brutally end them. And she would have been killed by a tribute. There wasn't a mutt that had yet been designed that could have taken her down.
“And remember me tonight, When you're asleep.”
But how to know who had struck the blow? Should he just go on a rampage and kill the remaining tributes In an effort to avenge her? Was her killer still alive? Clutching his face in his hands he sobbed silently into them. This wasn't how the game was supposed go to go. Not at all. It was supposed to be glorious, not... this. Uncaring about the sensibilities of the viewers at home, Razor cried himself to sleep.
“Because a girl like you is impossible to find, you're impossible to find.”
[/justify] [/blockquote]
