Cutting Diamonds {Bitter}

The gears in my head finally begin to turn. District 6 – not the mad scientists, but the geniuses, the underdogs, the killers in disguise. Maybe he’s not so crazy after all,” I think. The visions that come with the words Thomas speaks are horrifying. I imagine a frail 12 year old boy, getting decapitated by a sword. His hands, however, have not stopped moving. He reaches for some nearby leaves of some sort, places them on his stub of a neck, and two dragon heads grow in its place! He begins to breath fire on the tribute with the sword and – Oh, shut up, you retard! I yell at myself. Are you seriously thinking that a science geek could rise from the dead and become a hydra?! My head nods without my knowing, barely at all, but it does.

He speaks, and I hear him, but my mind is held captive by the dragon-headed boy. He breathes fire all around me, burning the trees to piles of brown dirt and incinerating the leaves to nothing. His long, pale fingers work their way around a fallen branch, which grows into a sword with a green blade and brown hilt. He then proceeds to slice off the poor sword tribute’s head, laughing as nothing grows back to replace the scarlet stump that once held his face. The dragon boy’s surprisingly deep laugh shakes the air, fire spitting out with every breath he exhales.

”Are we going to work together? I suddenly ask. ”If we get reaped together, I mean. We would make a great team! It could just be me, you and the District 6 tributes. We could do it you know! We could live and come home and-“ But I stop myself. No we can’t. There is absolutely no way that we would ever come home together. Unless, of course, we managed to escape, but that would never happen. No, the Gamemakers wouldn’t let that happen. They’re too cruel and vicious and – What are you talking about?! The voice in my head screams angrily. This is your dream! Your fate! You either die or live in the Games! There is no reason to talk about the Gamemakers like that! They made this possible for you! They help you! They would give money and a new house! You could win! Not Thomas, but you! Don’t you see that? But I shake my head subconsciously. All I see right now is the possibility of Thomas dying and me dying as well. So I look into his eyes and I don’t see the boy I just kissed in them, but I see a man planning and waiting anxiously for his own death to occur.

My heart urges me to argue with him. To say that he will need help in the games and that I could provide it with ease. But my mind tells me to leave it be and to just listen to him. He’s so sure he is going to go to the Games next year. He must have signed up for so much tesserae. I panic for a moment. He can’t go into The Hunger Games! Not now, not ever! If he dies then you’ll be all alone, Lyla. Just like you have been your entire life! My hands start to shake. I remember how I used to be before I met Thomas.

I see myself walking in a crowded hallway, being shoved past and shouted at. In my left hand I grasp a brown sack, and in the other I hold a thin blue spiral with papers shoved into the cover. We’re on our way to lunch. ”Move it! Someone yells. I move a little to the left, allowing him passage through the Red Sea that is my class. I know secretly that I could kill him with one flick of my wrist, but I figure an enemy in my own District is a bad idea. At least for the time being, that is.

After forever of walking, I finally reach the doorway to the lunch room. Cheers and screams echo from within the walls of the eating area. Some are shrill, girly screams, others manly cheers of triumph. I go to my regular place, a table in the far corner of the room, and sit down with a huff. I unpack my lunch slowly and glance at what’s inside. A small cup of peas, a Diet Capito, and some Prezzi Snow Pretzels. I unpack the pretzels first, laughing as I see a white-haired man winking on the package. I set them on my table and unpack the Diet Capito. On the can, I see a shining city and a pink woman – literally, her skin is pink. Finally, I get out the peas, and eat them first.

My life had been so full of stupid things. Stupid decisions, stupid thoughts, even stupid soda cans! Now, I feel alive. One single thought forms in my head. A thought that, if put into action, would ruin what Thomas had worked for his entire life. You will be hurting him very much if you say that, Lyla. I warn myself. But I nod my head. I know that, but I don’t think he would ever hate me for asking it, so reluctantly, I do. ”Why not stay here? Don’t go to The Hunger Games. Just spend the time with me?”

I can practically feel the anger bubbling up inside of me. His sureness makes me cringe. How dare he be so sure about how strong he is! He couldn’t even take me down if he wanted to! I clench my hands into fists. Clouds coat my vision, but then disperse as I get used to my overwhelming anger. ”What is wrong with you?! Why are you so obsessed with going into The Hunger Games! I know I am too, but at least I acknowledge the people I might hurt by going! You aren’t even considering the pain I might go through! I would be constantly worrying and I can’t handle that! My god, I can barely handle worrying about you wanting to go! I’ll fall apart, Thomas.”

I walk away from him quickly, my hair flying behind me with my speed. I lean against a nearby tree, my eyes wide and my vision blurry with tears. I try to blink them away, but they flow angrily down my face, racing to my chin. I turn around and face Thomas again. ”Go! Just go to the Games. See what happens. I can guarantee that you’ll die in the damn Bloodbath!” My throat aches as soon as the words escape my lips. You idiot, why did you just say that?! I scowl at him, my eyes nothing but two flames burning into him. Then, I turn and run as fast I can in the direction of my home.

My bottom lip quivers. I close my eyes and my head tilts forward. I let the tears run down my face and then turn to face him, my eyes red with the salty tears. I clench and unclench my hands into fists at my sides, and my legs shake as if holding me and my anger is just to much to bear. My eyes stare into his. He's angry, but he's better at staying in control. "I'm not going to change myself for the Capitol. Not like you did. You wanted me to change. Even I wanted myself to change, but now it doesn't matter. I don't plan on going into The Games. Not anytime soon."

I purse my lips, and turn away from him to where he can no longer see the tears streaming down my face. I look down once more and watch, fascinated, as a tear falls down my cheek and lands without a sound on the ground below me. And then, I look over my shoulder casually and say to him, "Oh yeah, and you're wrong about something. I do want to leave." And then I continue to walk, showing no sign of turning back, and having no idea of where I'm going.

My anger swells inside of me. I try to push it back down, deep inside of me, where it can't get it out, but it's like a spreading wildfire; distinguishing it takes a much longer time than getting it started. The tears have stopped, but now my eyes sting and ache. I bite hard on the inside of my cheek to keep from yelling at him, and force my legs to move forward. But then, when he says his final word, goodbye. I stop biting, and stop watering down my anger.

I reach inside of my jacket and take out a shuriken dagger. He can't see it yet, but I hold in right in front of me. A smile of hysteria spreads across my face. My mind moves my fingers into a grip on the weapon while my heart screams at me to stop. You can work this out! Just put the weapon away! But I ignore the old Lyla's voice that echoes throughout my head. "Shut up!" I yell at both Tom, and myself. Then, I rear back, turn around, and release the dagger which tumbles directly at Tom's head.