Still Alive But Barely Breathing // Ferde's

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cass
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Still Alive But Barely Breathing // Ferde's May 21, 2012 6:52:11 GMT -5

Post by cass on May 21, 2012 6:52:11 GMT -5

I always needed time on my own
I never thought I'd need you there when I cry
And the days feel like years when I'm alone
When you walk away I count the steps that you take
Do you see how much I need you right now?

His horses. It was all that was keeping Haff from breaking down. His hand fumbled around the edge of his shirt. He sat on the edge of a couch, staring at the wall in front of him, yet not staring at anything at all. He was scared. He was so scared, but as always the thought of his horses, the animals that understood him stopped him. The horses where brave. He could be brave to. He had seen a horse survive through three days of labour, and only have his hands to help. The horse had had no pain medication, just soothing words. Haff had no soothing words, but he had thoughts of the beautiful animals that he loved most.

It wasn’t only the pain that Haff had seen the animals fight through; it was just so much more than simple wounds, and cries of agony. The animals understood Haff. They knew how the boy worked, and he knew how they worked. He understood each of their movements more than his own. Sometimes Haff believed that he was closer to the horses then his family. When no one else understood what was happening to the boy he had his horses, he had the tall animals that protected him from the shunning eyes of the other kids, he had them there to talk to, and even though Haff didn’t talk he could talk to those animals. He didn’t need words to express what he felt. The horses understood. They were what kept Haff sane, they were part of the reason why Haff still had hope.

Haff’s hand gently races over the couch; he had never felt anything so delicate. It felt as if he was touching something from another world. He didn’t like it; it didn’t feel like home, it didn’t feel like the roughness of the hay, or the sleek fur of a horse, it didn’t feel like the blisters in his hands after spending hours mucking out the stalls, or the worn leather of the bridles that he repairs. None of it felt like home. Suddenly Haff was on the brink of tears. He was lost in a place that was not where he belonged, he couldn’t do what he had done all his life, he couldn’t care for the animals that had for so long cared for him. He was stuck. He had nothing to turn to this time, he was all alone.

He could remember just this morning watching the sunrise, feeling the hope that he did every day wound up in his chest fighting to escape. Haff could remember each horse in the stalls; he could remember each stroke of the brush he had brushed. But most of all Haff missed the young foal called Anima, he was by far Haff’s favourite. The young foal was the only one Haff had ever named. Anima was the horse Haff most cherished, when she was born she came out the wrong way, and it was a rare case that killed her mother during birth. Haff knew what it felt like to lose so much. He hadn’t lost someone close to him; he had lost a part of him.

She was a beautiful one year old mare now. Haff spent more time with the mare then he did any other horse. The family knew she was special to him, and for the first time that day Haff wanted to see his siblings and parents he wanted to talk to them, he wanted to tell them to look after Anima, he wanted to see Anima. He wasn’t sure if he would ever see her again. That thought tore into the boy, and he let the tears fall from his eyes, he let them rolled won his face and fall to his dirty reaping clothes. Haff wasn’t heartless, he loved his family greatly, but when he was all alone, lost and stuck and couldn’t think the horses had always been his escape, sure his family had been there, but they had never been there in the same way as Anima and the other horses.

As the sun had risen in the sky this morning Haff had held onto the hope that maybe one day he would be free of the mental sickness that took hold of him. He would grasp that hope with his two hands, but it would always slide through his fingers. He would find himself heading into a day with only despair and the dreams of a boy with so much pain, and joy that he never seemed to be able to have. But no matter what happens they would always be there, they would always be waiting. But now as Haff stares at the room he sat in he had no one. And for the first time in seventeen years he would wake up to the sun, but he would have no hope. He would have no dreams of being free.

But maybe Haff was never meant to have hope.

And when you're gone
The words I need to hear to always get me through
The day and make it ok
I've never felt this way before
I miss you

Last Edit: May 21, 2012 6:57:23 GMT -5 by cass

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Still Alive But Barely Breathing // Ferde's May 23, 2012 6:03:43 GMT -5

Post by meg. on May 23, 2012 6:03:43 GMT -5

Where would you go, if you had the time?
Crossing some crazy state-line somewhere?
To whom do you cry? People are unkind,

[/color]
Sweet girl [/size]

SHELETTA 'SHETTY' FERDE

[/center][/size][/right]

High cheekbones led to a broad nose, haling from unbagged eyes and eventually dissolving to a stubbled chin. His eyes were elsewhere, perhaps in the open paddocks, or maybe in the hellish arena that he was about to enter. But the emotion pockmarked them, giving them a thousand dimensions that one, if they looked the right way, might be able to read. It was the face of a stranger, a face all but unrecognisable.

How could one spend their whole life with someone and not know who they were?

Shetty’s eyes slowly traced the features of her family- weathered ones of her parents, plumb and provocative of Friesia, Andal’s a condensed version of a much older face, Arden with her eyes downcast, the twins with their oh-so-different mirror images. She had once though she knew these people. And yet, now she came to her brother’s first funeral, she realised she could not name one of his hopes, not a single of his specific fears. It wasn’t just him with his silent nature, either- Sheletta Ferde did not understand the slightest about the individualities of these strangers. Knowledge of herself was, at best, lacking, and knowledge of her kin was almost non-existent. They were like the horses- you know which way they were supposed to go, what they were supposed to do, but occasionally they would not fit inside the bounds of your expectations. They had minds of their own, after all. At one stage, she had believed that she had all the time in the world to get to know her people- she was but twelve, after all- yet now, she found herself faced with having lost a book that she had owned for a long time, and never got around to opening.

She cupped the silence in her hands, letting it slide like mercury through her fingers. The justice building’s regally papered walls towered above her head, easily able to fit two of her families’ truck-rooms in it. The thought struck her that somewhere in this meandering house, another family was proceeding with their own little ceremony. ‘Is there’s as quiet as this?,’ she pondered. She thought of the finality of good-bye as being a noisy affair, but the silence, which separated each person in the room, was by no means empty. It held the ocean’s weight. There would be plenty of time for weeping and wailing when he was dead. A lifetime, to be precise.

Oh, but she had to say something. She could not bear to have their final words recorded as nothing. Whether he understood the juices of her words, she still was not sure, but the belief that he connected with the emotions was shatterproof. She took a step towards him, breaking from the staring line her disorganised family had somehow managed to pull together without a word. Her shoulders were relaxed, her movements slow and steady, like one would when starting a feral colt, although she though of Haff as much more than that. The struggle not to let the ripping she felt in her chest from showing was a tough one, and she traced the side of her face with her stone-cold fist in unease, flicking against her lip and coming to rest on her necklace.

Her necklace.

Movements swift, she unclipped the braid from around her nape. She had plaited it herself from the tail hair of one of the Andalusians a couple of years ago now. It didn’t mean much now, to either her or Haff, but she hoped that in some dark place he would finger it and think of the powerful animals that reminded her so much of his strength. Wrapping it twice around his broad wrist, she did up the fastener, and then let her hand hide behind her back.

“The horses, Haff. Remember the horses.”

For a moment, she almost felt a connection. They were both outcasts from the family after all- one considered to stupid, the other too young to learn to ride- and yet she swore that they were the two that knew the horses the best, that connect with the animals that she knew thrived on their emotion.

A single tear, a bead full of everything escaped the corner of her eye, traced her nose, and jumped a little distance to enter her mouth. It’s salted words hydrated her, returning water to her body. It was in much the same way as Haff’s body would return to the ground, to grow into grass which would sate the hunger of the horses he loved. In a year from now- less, perhaps- Haff Ferde would, twenty three to one odds, back in the horses, back where he belonged.

It became all too much for Shetty to bear. What was the point in all this silence, when there were nine lives of unspoken words to be said? Her palms connected with the wood of the door- finally, something firm in her life- and marched outside, to a world that she now did not know.

Outside your world,
Who spends time with you?
Whom do you love when you're not working?

[/color]
Sweet girl [/CENTER] [/size][/blockquote]

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Still Alive But Barely Breathing // Ferde's May 23, 2012 19:48:29 GMT -5

Post by semper on May 23, 2012 19:48:29 GMT -5

”Haff Ferde.”

I don’t believe it – I can’t believe it. Haff as a tribute? No, it’s just a dream. I close my eyes tightly, taking a deep and shaky breath, and then open them. This is real. This is happening.

[/color]

Claustrophobia suddenly overwhelms me as I stand amidst the mob of sixteen year olds. A few of the others turn to look at me, concern showing on their face. I see their mouths moving, forming articulate words, but I don’t hear them. All I can hear is the mayor’s voice echoing through my head: ”Haff Ferde. Haff Ferde. Haff Ferde.”[/color]

My older brother is innocent – oh so innocent. There is nothing about him that would make anyone fear him. He isn’t intimidating in the least. Haff is just Haff; simple-minded but the embodiment of kindness. And he’s going to be sent off to be trained as a murderer.

In the mornings, at the barn, Haff and I always worked together. We never spoke, really, but just enjoyed each other’s company. Or I enjoyed his presence, at least. He’s always so engaged with the horses that, honestly, I admire it. He knows them; knows their personality, their quirks, how to make them move and pick up their hooves. Often I would just watch the way he worked with them. The duo usually moved like a well-oiled machine – or even like a color scheme – each contributing something to compliment the other. None of my siblings would ever believe it, but in a way I admire Haff and how he’s able to understand and connect with horses so well. Sure, I may be able to ride and have decent horsemanship, but Haff is better – he’s the horse’s better Haff.[/color]

A hand on my shoulder brings me back to reality. I jerk to see who it was, but they’ve already disappeared. I raise a hand to my face, feeling both my cheeks soaked with tears. I didn’t realize I was crying. My blurry eyes quickly lift their gaze to the stage, but my older brother isn’t there anymore. Panic seizes me; the crowd is already starting to disperse, so it makes it easier for me to barrel through and reach the stage. No one is up on it, but behind it, I see the door to the Justice Building closing. They must be in there already.[/color] I run over and slip through the door – Shetty’s in here, too. I don’t know how she got in here so fast, but I’m glad she is. Honestly, I don’t think any of our other siblings will show up even though Haff is pretty much being sent off to his death.

I follow my sister into the room that Haff is in. It’s lavishly furnished, but I don’t pay attention to the details. My attention immediately focuses on my older brother. For all I know, this could be the last time I see him alive. No, don’t think like that.[/color] I shut my eyes tightly again, thinking that there’ll be a change of scenery when I open them, but I still end up seeing the same exquisite furniture when my eyes open. Shetty is wrapping something around Haff’s wrist and telling him to remember the horses. Maybe there’ll be some kind of horse mutt in the arena. I bet Haff could tame a horse mutt; he could win that way.[/color] The thought gives me hope, but it’s miniscule. You have to kill to win the Games, and Haff can’t kill. He’s too humane.

Shetty leaves quickly, leaving me alone with Haff. Just seeing him standing alone brings a fresh wave of salty tears to my eyes. I can’t bear the thought of him being surrounded by twenty-three people who won’t even give him a second glance.

Quickly, I close the distance between us and wrap my arms around him as tightly as I can – almost as though, if I held on secure enough, he wouldn’t leave. I bury my face into the crook of his neck, trying to hold back a sob. It never should’ve come to this. Haff doesn’t deserve this.[/color]

Against my will, I involuntarily let go of him, though I keep my hands on his shoulders, looking straight into his brown eyes – much like my own, but more full of life and love.

”You come back now, alright?” My voice is quivering and it takes everything I have to keep it even somewhat even so that he can understand me. ”You gotta come back. Just do what you do best. I know you can make it, Haff. I’ve seen you decipher even the craziest horse – you can outsmart the others. I bet you none of the other tributes can do what you do. You're strong, no doubt. You’re smart, too, Haff, and don’t let anyone convince you otherwise. You can make it back home.”

[/center][/size][/blockquote][/justify][/color]

Last Edit: May 24, 2012 5:22:47 GMT -5 by semper

i hear the mountains calling me home

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Still Alive But Barely Breathing // Ferde's May 27, 2012 20:24:45 GMT -5

Post by SNOWFLAKES [Brik] on May 27, 2012 20:24:45 GMT -5

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Arden thought that her family had mutually good luck. No injuries had occurred to any of them, even when they were up on stage, performing death-defying tricks on the backs of horses. They always earned enough money so that Arden could pay the bills quickly and without ease. All of them had amazing health – well, except for their mother, who had arthritis, but at least a good portion of them had good health. None of the horses had been injured or gone sick and had to be put down. They were all pretty lucky. But for some reason, the world just felt the need to ruin it all by having her brother reaped. The world just felt the need to prove Arden wrong by taking away her brother.

When two words floated out into the air, the two words that identified her older brother, she felt part of herself just collapse. Like she was a hole carved into the side of a mountain, and when affected by something, just fall right in. Arden remembers looking around at her family, and then the way her heart rose into her throat and started a drumming noise when the mayor reached his hand into the glass spheres that would send two people to their imminent deaths. When his hand reached in and grabbed that slip of paper, just that tiny sheet of paper, she knew that a family would have one less member within the house, one less mouth to feed, one less person to talk to, one less person to smile with. One more person to mourn over. One more person six feet under because of the Capitol.

When she heard “Haff Ferde” echo around the Square and around her very eardrums, her blood froze and she felt fire rim around her eyes, threatening to spill over and burn her cheeks. Even though she was supposed to be the tough-as-nails, holier-than-thou teenager that loved to tell everybody just how badass she is on a scale of one to ten, at that moment, she was a scared little kid who was going to watch her brother go through hell and probably never come back. Even though she had never been exactly close with him, that was still her flesh and blood. That was her brother. And she was going to be forced to watch him die all for entertainment.

And the worst part of it all is the fact that everybody had ignored him his entire life.
He never truly had a family.
He was cast away to deal with life on his own, finding his sanity within the soft coats of a horse.

Those are the three facts that made her stomach twist with guilt as the shock-stricken family escorted themselves to the Justice Building, where Haff undoubtedly sat, an animal waiting to be shipped to a slaughterhouse. Probably thinking about how he’s gonna die. Probably thinking about who will do the job. Probably thinking about what a terrible, terrible family we were to him. Probably thinking about how we are the worst people alive and that we should be in that arena too.

Arden quickly walks into the Justice Building, and when she sees Haff sitting on the soft-looking couches, running fingers along the fabric tentatively, as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world, her tears threaten to spill over again, and she thinks to herself I don’t deserve to cry. None of us have the right to cry. We all ignore him and cast him away and now we all act like he was the most important thing in our family. How ironic. So she puts on a brave face and tries to force herself to get back into her usual character, using the top of her pointer finger to wipe away any sign of weakness. After she wipes the water on her jeans and takes a moment to actually breathe she launches into her final words for Haff.

“Haff, I’m so sorry. I… Sorry for you being reaped, and… I’m so sorry that it’s taken us this to actually take a moment to realize you exist. You should have been an actual part of the family, Haff, and for as long as I live, I’ll regret that we excluded you from everything. And it was all because you are different, and…” she doesn’t continue on with that thought, instead trailing off and then shaking her head. “Look, we’ll take care of the horses for you. Don’t worry about them. Just worry about getting yourself home, Haff.”

She takes a moment to breathe before she finishes with six last shaky words.
Six shaky words that she knows will probably mean nothing to him.
Six shaky words that she knows will never fix what most of them did.

“I love you so much, Haff.”

[/blockquote] [/justify]

Ally: obviously the B, R, I, K, N, O, P, and E, are silent, and it's pronounced "Fabulicious."

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Still Alive But Barely Breathing // Ferde's Jun 10, 2012 6:13:40 GMT -5

Post by meg. on Jun 10, 2012 6:13:40 GMT -5

Regrets collect like old friends
Here to relive your darkest moments
I can see no way, I can see no way

[/color]
And all of the ghouls come out to play [/size]

FRIESIA FERDE

[/center][/size][/right]

I made a handprint in the shower last night. We only have a little hot water, see, and I was the third in after a long, dusty day, and the water ran out half way through shampooing my hair. For a second, I stood there, letting the cold run over me, pearlescent cream dripping off my hands like blood. The night air was muggy, and it danced a tango with the bitter drops that tiptoed down my skin. Complicated footwork ensued- one, two, step behind close two thee- and the last dregs of steam melted like a setting sun. So I placed my hand to the scratched sheets of glass, letting the shampoo stick there.

I wish I could say that it would stay there forever. I wish that, long after I’ve died, it would remain there, a little imprint of my life. But I know it won’t. One day I will turn to dust, and there will be nothing but a memory of me left, a little shadow that can be cupped between the hands of my relatives, something for them to cry over. And eventually, even that will be dust too, settling on the shoulders of my descendants and weighing them down that little bit more.

I bit my tongue, faced the sting of the cold to wash out the last dregs of soap, and stepped out of the shower. My face stared back at me in the mirror. I tried very hard to convince myself that it wasn’t me. For a moment, she was a stranger, a girl with swollen eyelids and too-fat cheeks and her only valuable assets pinned to her chest, quite literally. But lying doesn’t quite work- it never fully works.

[/i] And once again I was me, a girl who doesn’t want to be who she knows she is.

I painted my nails in front of the fire after that. I let the enamel bite at my fingers, vicious colours, amphibious war paint- watch out, this one’s poison![/b] The others complained that I was being lazy, that there were countless other things that actually needed doing, but they have no idea. There’s no point in getting attached to them- today proved that. Everyone’s going to die, some sooner rather than later. And those that you’re attached leave you naked and shivering and unsure of anything and everything.

It’s just like the boys, the spectrum-capitol boys that make me feel like there’s finally something that I can do right ~~( that’s a lie, I’m lying to myself, there’s lots I know how to do, but it’s mostly worthless.)~~ You undress together, scurry-beetle hands and lingering fingers and worthless ~~lies~~ promises. United by your wants, driven by animalistic needs and desiring to feel, for even a mouthful of ~~words~~ ~~choices~~ minutes, wanted.[/i] But the heat comes and then goes, mostly goes, and the warmth evaporates quickly and goose bumps lick your spine. You find your clothes in the dark, fumbling clumsily. A lame old horse, ribs peeping through leathered skin, once you are useless you are worthless.

- - -

“Haff Ferde”

Is it strange that it didn’t shock me? All my life, I’ve been waiting for something like this to happen. It’s the reason I’ve cut the umbilical cord from my family, not letting their words and thoughts nurture me. I can find sustenance on my own- a source of strength that will not punch me in the stomach like this. We’re horse people, we expect accidents to happen, because accidents do happen. I know we’ve just been lucky so far. There’s no God on our side, nor other force at work securing our safety harness. The surname called by a pert Capitolite voice just confirms this.

He’s not going to make it. There’s no point in sugaring the situating, covering it in sticky sweet honey, words made of a poison more deadly than arsenic. Haff is the kid with thoughts that are blocked from turning into words, the kid with the mind that, frankly, doesn’t work.

His disability isn’t even physical, the type that will get him sympathy sponsors. He can’t fight or flirt or run, he’s not clever and he’s got no way of extracting pennies from those that can afford to spare them. Haff Ferde will not be victor of the 61st Hunger Games.

- - -

What am I meant to farewell? The Justice Building room has mildew in one corner of the ceiling. It reminds me of myself- just a little emotion moldering in one part of my insides, no matter how hard I try to disinfect it. I want to say something that will make everything ok, but I don’t know the boy that stands in front of me. I don’t remember the day he was born, unlike all the others, which means I’ve known him the longest, and yet I feel that I can read him the least. The others, all of my other siblings, they’re cracked-spine open books, emotions written in bold on their faces. I know everything about them, the way that they move and the way that they are. But Haff? I have no idea who he even is.

So I walk from the room. I don’t even say goodbye, because that would risk showing what I really feel- a squirm of numb in my cheeks and in my stomach that I don’t even understand, yet know far too well. There’s no point anyway. It’s not as if he understands any word that would come from my mouth. Knuckles connect with oak and the door’s hinges creak and my hinges creak, too.

Outside is a camera, along with it’s crew. Now here, here my emotions can actually get me something. You see these scenes on TV occasionally- normally when nothing else interesting is happening in the arena, or in the recap. You know what? Fuck it, I want my face to be remembered, for as long as I am a memory, I am alive. I don’t know and I don’t care when I’ll die, because as long as I am always ticking over in someone’s mind, my time will always have been worthwhile.

So I contort my face, let the pain that I am almost feeling snowball in my chest. A sigh turns into a sob, and I turn to face the camera, the memory-maker. The words fall of their own accord, and, a girl supposedly ripped by grief, I don’t mind where they land.

“He was the best brother you could ask for,” I say, feeling tears dribble along my cheekbones, but not letting the emotion cut deep. It blunt-nail grazes across my skin, but I am too strong to bleed. “I’d give anything for him to come home, anything at all.” [/color]
[/blockquote][/justify]

And I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't
So here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my road
And I'm ready to suffer and I'm ready to hope

[/color]
It's a shot in the dark and right at my throat [/size]
[/blockquote][/center]

Last Edit: Jun 10, 2012 6:19:23 GMT -5 by meg.

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Still Alive But Barely Breathing // Ferde's Jun 21, 2012 15:50:14 GMT -5

Post by SNOWFLAKES [Brik] on Jun 21, 2012 15:50:14 GMT -5

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By the time Haff had been taken away by the Peacekeepers, Arden felt the pressing weight of grief on her shoulders, and the weight of apology and guilt at the bottom of her stomach. She saw the rest of her family with tears in their eyes too, but it didn’t roll down their cheeks – Arden included. It rimmed her eyes like a dam that had built up with too much water and was about to overflow, but nothing flowed over the top. Even though it was her brother, it wasn’t like she had developed a close relationship with him. It wasn’t like she and him had gone out for icecream or spent hours on end talking. They were like strangers to each other; strangers that shared a last name and some sort of resemblance. Family was family, regardless. Even though Arden was cold and ice ran through her veins instead of blood, even she agreed it would be cruel and almost insulting if she weren’t upset by it.

When Arden leaves the Justice Building after Haff had left to go to his death (of which Arden was thinking of very intensely), cameras are shoved in her face, and when she is asked for some words on her brother, she sharply denies them, saying “Leave me alone or I will personally rip apart those cameras.” She can see the irritated look in their eyes as they watch her walk away and lean against the building next to Shetty, and when her back is faced to them, she turns her head, knowing they are staring after her, and sends them a venomous glare. The cameramen turn away and attempt to talk to other members of the family, starting with her parents. They say a few cracked words, and then tell the cameramen to go away and bother someone else of their family.

They decide to bother Friesia, who is bawling, tears running down her face like she’s never cried before. Arden had this feeling – both from her intense hate from her sister and both from knowing her ever too well – that the liquid that ran down her face was as false as her bright yellow hair color that their father made sure to please her with. As she watched from a far with Shetty, she almost felt the urge to laugh at the way she cried so harshly in front of the camera. Arden didn’t move however; she was more a person of observation than anything else. People who observe tend to be more intelligent than those who act.

“He was the best brother you could ask for,” she said, the tears performing their escape down her face as she faced the cameras. By this time, Arden’s lower jaw felt like it wanted to fall to the floor with the complete lie displayed before her. She could feel something – call it angry confusion – build up, but as a ~~wallflower~~ observer, she kept quiet. “I’d give anything for him to come home, anything at all.” And that is when she sprung off the wall like a mouse who had spotted a cat.

She stormed next to Friesia, and in one fluid motion, brought her arm and closed hand forward, her fist colliding with her sister’s left cheek. “You don’t miss Haff. You barely spoke ten words to him in his entire life. Grow. Up.” Arden stormed off, away from the Justice Building, and knowing the cameras are following her, she threw a bird over her shoulder that they would undoubtedly censor later. As she walked herself home, knowing she would have to face her parents after nailing her dear, sweet sister in the face, she smiled to herself. And when she walked the streets that led to their place of residence, she began laughing.

And that was one of the few moments where Arden had been truly happy.