[Every Chance] | Pthalo

Saphira gasps at the blood the leaks from her nose, a river flowed drawing red streaks down my face. It didn’t help when the tears decided to join. Saphira groans with pain, but it didn’t hurt that much, years of training and accumulating bruises after bruises, broken bone after broken bone. She barely registered it. Her eyes had started watering. That was what happened when you broke your nose. Her lips open to let out another groan, but her mouth promptly fills with blood, she sprays it onto the ground and snorts, but that just sends a searing stab of pain through her.

She coughs. She just wanted to lie on the ground and not move. The ground was good, comfortable. Peaceful. There were no polls to hi- “Ahh.” The words escape her lips and she swings her head up to face a tall girl with long flowing blonde hair. Her eyes narrow at the girl. The girl speaks drooling about a fake apology, but Saphira barely hears the words as she tries to fight down the anger that was inside of her. This stupid bitch. She gets up, her eyes narrowing. ”Who the fuck do you think you are?” She spits the words, taking a step closer to the girl. There was something familiar about her, but she didn’t care.

Saphira was normally a calm and peaceful girl, but this girl had crossed the line. She flicks her hair over her shoulder. One of her hands still covered her bleeding nose, but she raised the other one, giving the girl a one finger salute. She was in a really bad mood, and she really needed to see a doctor. With a cold glare Saphira turns around and storms away from the bitch. Her anger quickly died, turning into guilt. She felt bad already. Even though the girl had stood on her hair, she had acted rash. She had never given anyone the finger. It felt good. She felt a satisfied smile creep onto her face.

But it faltered she felt bad. It wasn’t Saphira. Saphira wasn’t a bitch. After a few stops she turns around to look at the girl.

Ahhh! That was who it was that stupid victors sister. No wonder she was such a bitch. “Well obviously you are Julian’s cousin, stupidity runs in the family if you obviously believe that I am going to do what you say.” She snarls through the blood in her mouth. She felt no pain from her head from the sharp yank. She was used to it. It was the one of the things she had made sure she did at training. Girls liked to pull hair and having a strong scalp helped. With a sharp pull Saphira rips her hair away from Clarity. She scrambles to her feet, and swings a strong punch at the girls face.

“You know maybe if you didn’t act all so high and mighty I would actually take account of everything that you just said, but seeing as you are a stuck up bitch I’m going to ignore it all. I don’t listen to bitches. Especially ones with a cousin that is an up himself murderer that killed more people then he should have.” She spites. Because it was true. She hated Julian. Julian to her had gone too far in those games. So did some of the other tributes like the purple naked guy. That guy was just a total dick head and she had been happy when the Reyes boy had finally chopped off his head.

She grimaces at the blood that seemed to never stop falling, running, dripping from her nose, she ignored the stabbing pain that every breath brought her. It was agony, but she would deal with it. She hated the girl that stood in front of her. She hated the girls family. She takes a few steps back, out of the range of the other girl. She wasn’t going to be dragged into another hissy fit. She was very tempted to stick her finger up at the girl again, but doing ti twice in the space of a few minutes just seemed like a silly idea. So instead she satisfied herself with a cold glare in the girls direction.

All Saphira knew was that no matter what happened she would fight not run.

Saph could see the fury, the angry and rage on the girls face. And yet she found herself standing tall. She didn’t cower under the look, even though it sent shivers down her, or even the fact that she was really scared didn’t stop her from glaring at the girl. Even though her sloppy punch had missed it didn’t bother her. She knew that if she had of hit the girl she wouldn’t have been very happy. She would have felt so guilty and ashamed of herself. Even if Clarity had hit her face, she still couldn’t bring herself to do it. Then suddenly Clarity is snarling ather, she jumps over to Saph, kicking her in the head. The world spins, and Saph cries out in pain.

The kick is sharply followed by a pain in her stomach, it sends her fyling to the ground, and she gasps at the air, stunned. Her visions goes fuzzy, but then she realises that Clarity is on top of her screaming, telling her that if she didn’t do this or that she would find herself dead. Saphira honestly didn’t ca- Oh. Oh. Oh fuck this girl. That fucking bitch. She just spat on Saphira’s face. The pain seemed to vanish from her body, replaced by a cold fury. Saphira had never been so angry in her life. “ You bitch.” She syas in a low voise. Venom dripped from each word that left her tongue. This girl was worse then her cousin.

Saph moves fast, she gets her legs under the girl, and flings her off, not far, but enough to wriggle out and away. Her lips turn into a snarl and she walks over to Clarity who was still on the ground. Without thinking she lashes out with her leg, her boot catching the girl in the face. She wipes the spit from her face. Her fury was fading now, and she resisted the urge to kick the girl again. The pain exploeded in her body again, and she wiped somore blood from her head.

“You are nothing but a self-centered bitch” She spits. “You are nothing, but a flith of dirt.”

Pain. It was everything, and the only thing she felt. It raced through her body, and took control of everything, until the only thing she knew as pain, until the only thought on her mind was pain. All she could feel was the girls fingers digging into her pressure points. The screams that seemed to never stop coming, then suddenly the pain left, but it didn’t stop. No it hadn’t left, it had just faded. There was a sudden pressure around her throat, and she coughed and splutter, trying to get some air into her resistant lungs. Everything was confusing nothing was making sense.

Was she dying?

It was the only thing that seemed to reach out through the cloud of pain in her head. She had never been in so much pain in her life. Her head pounded and instead of deep breaths she couldn’t breathe at all. She couldn’t feel the air in her lungs, the smell of her own blood. All she could feel was a tight pressure around her throat, and the never dying sensation of death. Her hands weakly moved to her throat gently brushing over the arm that wrapped its way around her life. Forcing her head down, forcing her not to breath. It was a common manoeuvre. It would kill your opponent in one sharp jerk. Just a strong twist and it would all be over.

But she didn’t want to die.

Her body seemed to grasp this. No Saphira didn’t want to die, especially not in the hands of this bitch. Her eyes gently flutter open, but she saw nothing, her vision was going black, starts danced across her vision. She wanted to laugh, dancing, the little stars were teasing her. They were playing with what she loved most, to dance. But laughing seemed impossible at the moment, and yet she really wanted to laugh, to cry out, to dance.

Her hands fumbled with the arm around her neck, and she tried to yank it away, she tried to make the pain go away, the dying sensation. She wanted it to all go. Then there is a voice, a cold and frantic voice screaming, yelling for Clarity to let go. The arm around her is hesitant, but final drops her to the ground. Saphira falls, but she doesn’t care, she falls onto her face, onto the cool ground. She takes a deep shaky breath. She smiles at the feeling of air once more making its way through her body, the dancing stars disappear, leaving her all alone. But Saphira didn’t care. She was alive.

She turns herself over to look at the girl and her saviour, the person who had stopped her death. She watches them argue, her saviour hidden from view by the bitch. Then suddenly they are both looking at her. At first she doesn’t recognise the boy in front of her, because that was what he was a boy. He was barely older then her, but it was hard to not recognise him. After all he was the victor of the 60th Hunger Games. Julian Bryze.

Her eyes grow wide as she takes him in arguing with his cousin. She honestly didn’t know how to feel. She hated the guy that stood in front of her, the guy that had saved her. She hated him. She hated the way he had gone into the arena, with only revenge on his mind, and the way he had killed so many. She knew it was the Games, she knew they had to kill to stay alive, but what he had done? No. No, in her eyes he had gone too far. The games was about killing yes, but he had taken it into his own hands, that revenge would make it all better.

Had it worked?

Had killing them all satisfied him? Had it made Midas’s death any more bearable? But as she looked up at him, she couldn’t help think. This guy had just saved her, she was not as foolish to think that she could have gotten out of Clarity’s grip, she knew that she would have tried, but Clarity was stronger. Saphira looked away ashamed of herself, and of who she had let save her. She turned her eyes away, and ignored the sound of the girls retreating steps.

“Don’t let me see you again. You won’t live to tell the tale next time.” The girl threatens. Saphira gives her a cold glare.

Her body ached, and the blood never seemed to stop flowing from her nose, sharp pains stabbed her with every breath, and she knew that any moment she would faint, but she couldn’t. She slowly turns her eyes back over to the boy that towered above her, to the boy that could kill anyone without mercy. She looked up at her saviour, at the person she despised. She just looked at him for a moment. She was conflicted, to be honest. It was worse that he just stood there, and she didn’t know how to feel, she was so confused. Too much blood loss, it is making you go crazy. She snorts, but that just ends with her letting out a sharp gasp of pain.

“Well, Get up.”

Saphira was taken aback by the coldness in his voice. But she was also confused, had she expected sympathy? In a way yes, she did. But deep down in her she knew sympathy was not something this boy knew, she had watched him kill that girl, she had watched him kill Yaron, right in front of her brother. She had watched it all sickened by his lack of empathy. Controlled by a revenge. But Saphira also knew that she didn’t want this boys sympathy, she knew she was going to get none. And still she found herself hesitating, wondering for just a moment if he would indeed help her. Of course he wouldn’t.

She stares past him. She had nothing left. Clarity had stripped her of her dignity and pride. She had made Saphira look foolish, even though Saphira did not care for that, she was still in front of a victor, one of the most respected people in the district. Yet she didn’t want to do it. She wanted to ignore this boy, pretend he wasn’t there, just lie down and hope for the best. And still part of her knew that she wanted to prove something, anything to this boy. She wanted to be strong.

With a deep breath she pushes herself up to her knees. She stays there for a moment waiting for the stars in her vision to leave. She glances at the boy, who still stood there waiting. Her eyes harden, she was being weak. She clenches her teeth, and bits down on her tongue to stop any sing of her pain leaving her, she pushed it down, keeping it in her, she wouldn’t show it. She refused to show it. With a heave she pulls herself up to her feet. Her legs were wobbly and she staggers to the side a few steps, but she catches herself before she falls.

On unsteady legs she takes a step closer to Julian Bryze.

Her first thought is to turn around and walk away, but as she hesitates she realises that she was not going to just leave. She not going to just follow orders. She didn’t listen to anyone with the name Bryze. She hated these people. She hated the stuck up arrogant boy in front of her. She didn’t care if he was suffering, she didn’t care if he screamed because of nightmares, and the faces of the people that he killed taunted him.

She just didn’t care.

The boy deserved everything he got, he deserved every nightmare; that she knew he got, because you couldn’t go into that fucking arena and come out perfect. No one could. Her eyes meet his and she holds his cold glare. His eyes were threatening and she felt like prey beneath his gaze, but she held onto his gaze meeting his eyes as an equal. The fact that Julian hadn’t even said “are you alright?” or “do you need any help?” barely bothered her, this boy knew no empathy, and in her eyes she saw him as a killer.

She didn’t see him as someone she should trust, admire and like. She turns her eyes away from his looking him up and down, she was curious, she hadn’t been expecting this boy to be honest, but most probably did expect someone more taller stronger, bigger, everyone always expected more, never less always more. She steps back, her eyes trailing his body up and down inspecting him.

She didn’t know why she was looking at him like this. Some part deep down in her felt guilt, she knew that. She always felt guilt. It was Saphira. Everything she did always came with a repercussion in her own self punishment. She despised herself for hating this boy without knowing him, but his actions had been horrid in the games and she couldn’t justify an reason for him not to be evil in her mind.

Well know she had a reason. She sighs and looks away from Julian. She didn’t know what to say to him. Her feelings bubbled beneath her, but she just didn’t know how to express them in a way that wouldn’t end with her being hurt or killed. Her ice blue eyes fall onto his once more, and the words tug at her lips. ”So after all of it, did it end up helping?” She looks right into the depths of his eyes. She felt dumb, as if her words made no sense to anyone, but herself. ”I mean, after you killed them all did it make you feel better about Midas?” She asks. Because she wanted to know.

She had to know if Julian was more then all she had heard.