No one should play with knives (OPEN)
Jul 7, 2011 12:28:27 GMT -5
Post by ali on Jul 7, 2011 12:28:27 GMT -5
I was standing in the darkness again. No, not standing, floating. I was floating on darkness. Well, in the darkness. I was sure I was floating on water. A deep, black lake. As I floated across the dark abyss, I could feel the ice cold water seep into my clothes lapping at my pale skin; sucking all the energy I had out of my limbs. It was a long while, what seemed lie and eternity, until the voice began whispering in my ear again. The first time I had heard the voice, I thought it was the little girls. The one with the yellow coat, but I was wrong. As I got more used to hearing the voice it occurred to me that it was not the girl, but my mother. She was trying to comfort me as I sunk deeper and deeper into the clutches of terror. I couldn't see her but I could hear her. Whispering condolences and support into my head as I slipped under the surface of the water.
As soon as the dream had begun it had ended. I opened my eyes slowly, groggily rolling over onto my back, trying to find my bearings. Golden shards of light seeped through the slits in the blinds which covered window which looked out over the Capitol.
Of course...... I thought to myself as I hugged my pillow tight to my face I was Capitol
A sense of dread flooded over me as reality returned to my feeble mind. It dawned on me that this was really happening, that it wasn't some sick twisted nightmare but then again Nightmares can be real too. My stomach twisted at the thought of home, the thought of never seeing it again. It was painful. I wished I could just curl up amongst the sheets of the bed and fall asleep and never wake up. That would never happen. undoubtedly I was under survaliance and would be saved with a click of someones fingers. I sat up, only to realize our Avox was in the room. I felt sorry for the Avox girl, with her dark shoulder length hair and pale storm green eyes; she seemed so innocent which made me wonder why she had been put through this horrible suffering.. She kindly acknowledged the fact that I needed to get dressed. She put down her things and left the room. All sorts of questions where running through my mind, who is she? Why is she here? How old is she? I guess I'd never know.
Around half an hour later I walked into the training center. A lot of the other tributes were here already, clumsily fiddling with frayed rope or struggling to distinguish a edible and poisonous flower. I gazed round at the 6 or so training stations deciding where to go. I noticed the first aid station and began walked towards it.
No A voice whispered loudly in my ear. I froze to the spot shocked, confused. It was my mother again. She was trying to help me
The blades Alikia, the blades
I slowly turned to see a station based on teaching us tributes how to use weapons such as swords and knives efficiently. The voice, I mean, my mothers voice was right. I needed a weapon to defend myself with. I crossed the laminate tiled flooring to the station. The instructor grinned and began telling me all about the types of knives, swords, machetes and other blades that I would learn to handle. He paused before handing me a very large, and very heavy sword which must have been at least twice the size of my height. I struggled to lift it higher than my ankle, let alone high enough to do enough damage. The instructor shook his head before giving me a small dainty dagger. I twiddled it in my tiny fingers before he snatched it from me shaking his head. He soon found me a slightly smaller, lighter sword. Its rough leather handle rubbed against my worn palms. I liked the feel of it, how it rested between my hands. The instructor began pointing at various spots on a mannequin. I assumed he wanted me to try hit those spots. All probably deadly. I carefully, slowly, raised my sword and stabbed as best as I could towards an area he had pointed at.
As soon as the dream had begun it had ended. I opened my eyes slowly, groggily rolling over onto my back, trying to find my bearings. Golden shards of light seeped through the slits in the blinds which covered window which looked out over the Capitol.
Of course...... I thought to myself as I hugged my pillow tight to my face I was Capitol
A sense of dread flooded over me as reality returned to my feeble mind. It dawned on me that this was really happening, that it wasn't some sick twisted nightmare but then again Nightmares can be real too. My stomach twisted at the thought of home, the thought of never seeing it again. It was painful. I wished I could just curl up amongst the sheets of the bed and fall asleep and never wake up. That would never happen. undoubtedly I was under survaliance and would be saved with a click of someones fingers. I sat up, only to realize our Avox was in the room. I felt sorry for the Avox girl, with her dark shoulder length hair and pale storm green eyes; she seemed so innocent which made me wonder why she had been put through this horrible suffering.. She kindly acknowledged the fact that I needed to get dressed. She put down her things and left the room. All sorts of questions where running through my mind, who is she? Why is she here? How old is she? I guess I'd never know.
Around half an hour later I walked into the training center. A lot of the other tributes were here already, clumsily fiddling with frayed rope or struggling to distinguish a edible and poisonous flower. I gazed round at the 6 or so training stations deciding where to go. I noticed the first aid station and began walked towards it.
No A voice whispered loudly in my ear. I froze to the spot shocked, confused. It was my mother again. She was trying to help me
The blades Alikia, the blades
I slowly turned to see a station based on teaching us tributes how to use weapons such as swords and knives efficiently. The voice, I mean, my mothers voice was right. I needed a weapon to defend myself with. I crossed the laminate tiled flooring to the station. The instructor grinned and began telling me all about the types of knives, swords, machetes and other blades that I would learn to handle. He paused before handing me a very large, and very heavy sword which must have been at least twice the size of my height. I struggled to lift it higher than my ankle, let alone high enough to do enough damage. The instructor shook his head before giving me a small dainty dagger. I twiddled it in my tiny fingers before he snatched it from me shaking his head. He soon found me a slightly smaller, lighter sword. Its rough leather handle rubbed against my worn palms. I liked the feel of it, how it rested between my hands. The instructor began pointing at various spots on a mannequin. I assumed he wanted me to try hit those spots. All probably deadly. I carefully, slowly, raised my sword and stabbed as best as I could towards an area he had pointed at.
