Changing the world?

Jack has no idea how hard his words hit home. If I knew where Colton was, I would be with him, no doubt. But I don't. I've been to District 5 nearly four times in search of them, but I can't find them. He has no idea how frustrated I would get at the end of the day when I couldn't find them. To not be able to find your own son – that must be what my parents went through when I disappeared and was avoxed. I understand now.

Slowly I nod to both his questions.

The last time I saw him, he was with her. And if I knew where he was, I wouldn’t be here with you now. I’d be with him and his mother. He was born while I was in the DC and I saw him only once when my master brought me to D5, but then they disappeared. Not a trace behind. I’ve been to D5 nearly four times looking for them and haven’t found them.

I stare at the fire, watching the flames leap up and dance sporadically. I watch the way the embers on the sticks shine and fade, patterns appearing on the charred wood like living veins, always shifting. It's a lot like life: always changing and shifting, for better or for worse. Nothing stops it until it's snuffed.

Well, I feel like I'm snuffed. Between a rock and a hard place. I don't want Jack to go away from his goal of helping all of Panem by helping just me instead, but then I would be going against myself. I want to find Colton, but I want to help Jack with his dream. It's not like I haven't faced this dilemma before, but I've never had a solution for it. What do I do? What do I do?

I really am unlucky. I don't like to take pity on myself, but it's hopeless. I've always drawn the short end of the stick, I'm always losing people, I'm always in a constant battle with either myself or the elements or even other people. It's awful, constantly feeling like you're good for nothing and will never get a decent chance. But Colton - the poor guy's even unluckier. He doesn't have a say in his lineage and I know for a fact that he'll be beat up on - "the son of a tongueless mute," that's what they'll call him. It's because of me that he'll be at the bottom of the food chain when he really shouldn't be; it's because of me that he'll be rejected; it's because of me that he'll feel worthless - like me.

I shake my head, sniffing and fighting back tears. I lightly pat Jack on the shoulder and give him a weak smile of thanks, but I shake my head. No, I won't allow him to give up his bigger dream for my smaller one. Setting my jaw against the stinging in the back of my eyes, I get up and go crawl into the bivouac, curling up into a tight ball on the leaves and pine needles, forcing back the hot, salty tears and praying for sleep to come take me.

A few tears did manage to slide down across the bridge of my nose, but I was able to keep most of them back. Crying wasn't going to help anything, so I just needed to stop, and I did. And despite the cold, I was able to fall into a troublesome half-sleep state, but that's better than nothing.

Blurry images were floating around in my head until I heard rustling right beside, which woke me up. Blinking a few times, I looked up and saw Jack in the tent with me. Why is he in here? Isn't it still his turn to keep watch? I'm about to poke him, but that's when I notice that the fire is out and that I hear footsteps and see lights.

Oh shit.

My eyes go wide and I hold my breath, just watching the lights flicker back and forth, listening to the voices. What are they doing? Almost instantly I get flashbacks to when I was out of the District with Lily. They had found us so quick back then - would they find Jack and I just as fast? I really hope not. My eyes shift their gaze back to Jack and then over to the lights. I'm too afraid to even breathe for fear of them hearing me, and I dare not move. Any slight movement and I'm sure we'd be goners.

This is all too familiar. They were going to find us, oh Ripred, we're going to be found-

Jack puts his hand over my mouth to keep me quiet, but I don't need to be told that twice. I still don't move at all even though it's a bit uncomfortable with his hand on my mouth, but I get over it quick because I'm more worried about staying out of the DC. I don't want to go back... what happens to an Avox that gets sent there twice? I'll be sent there again for the same reason: trespassing in the woods. Then they'll send me back to the Capitol and I know I won't be paired up with a master as good as Luk. I'd probably be forced to serve some abusive candy-colored person who gets mad if you don't bring him/her the right type of water with certain minerals.

I'm breathing so quick and shallow, taking in the earthy scent of Jack's hand as I wait for the people to leave. Seconds tick away like hours, and finally the men leave after saying a few incoherent things. He takes his hand off my face and I look at him. Maybe they saw the fire? I point over to the fire and look back at Jack questioningly. Or maybe someone turned us in. Oh, fuck, that wouldn't be good. And even though they're looking for us, we can't move. They've already declared this place clear, so we'd be better off staying here rather than trying to get a move on. I give a very quiet, concerned whimper, turning my eyes to look through the branches and leaves and snow on the side of the tent.

I nod, having thought the same thing. The scars on my wrists from the DC tingle at the rush of memories, so I quickly shove them back to the darkness of my mind. I shake my head at his next question. I have no idea how they found him back at that house he had talked about. Something was definitely wrong here.

I get up on all fours since I can't stand up, and reach over Jack's lap so that I can peek outside. Nothing. I listen and hear nothing, so I crawl out, being sure to stay down in a low, frog-like squat, searching the whole forest around us. No lights or anything. I think we're safe, so I turn to Jack and use my hand to shoo him back into the tent. It's my turn for watch, anyway, though the thought of the Peacekeepers is bugging me still.



((My muse flatlined. o.o ))

For a few minutes I think that everything's alright, but then Jack says something that sends icy tingles down my spine: they're coming back. My eyes shoot their gaze to the light coming from flashlights. I hear Jack rustling behind me and then he springs up, telling me to run. He doesn't have to say it twice - I stand up and take off like hell itself is after me, following behind Jack through the snow, my heart pounding and fear propelling me forward with each long stride.

Being a wanderer certainly has its perks, and one of them is endurance and cardio, and I have both. Every wanderer has to have both. And with the fear driving me, I feel like I can sprint for hours. Jack trips a few times and I skid to a stop, but as soon as he's up and going again, I follow.

I feel like a deer running from a pack of wolves. We've nothing to protect ourselves with but our hands and teeth, and for all I know, the Peacekeepers have guns and we could be shot. I really don't want to be shot again... that hurt just as much as my femur breaking.

We stop at the top of a hill for a breather, but I'm so high off adrenaline that I just want to keep on going. I feel like the Peacekeepers are going to catch up to us at any moment and that we'll be caught if we don't keep moving, but when we stop, I realize how out of breath I am. The cold air is hurting my throat and I sucking it in so fast that I might as well be hyperventilating. I take a few deep breaths to calm myself down before we start going again down the hill, but Jack trips and tumbles down, leaving me behind. I take off after him as fast as I can without slipping and falling, but that makes it a slow going.