Quarter After One [Lalia]
May 23, 2012 21:25:37 GMT -5
Post by wimdy on May 23, 2012 21:25:37 GMT -5
There have been times in my life when I have reached my lowest low and felt as it a giant was sitting atop my chest, using me as a stool to rest upon me just long enough to leave me gasping for air as he got up, leaving me laying on the ground struggling to regain my senses and make the world flip right-side-up again. Now is one of those times. The train is rushing and however many miles per hour is speeds by, each passing second bringing us closer to our fates, our final calls. Everything is rushing by, but here, in my little plush transportable room, there is absolute stillness. Nothing moves. I sit upon the cushioned bed, falling back upon it and closing my eyes, believing that I'm not really there, making myself understand that I'm simply out at sea. The water is gentle today. It's perfect for fishing. The fish usually bite when there's very little movement. There are seagulls swooping overhead, their reverberating caws slithering through my body and lulling me into District Four. But I'm not in District Four anymore.
The dream is broken. My eyes open and there is nothing but the sterile metallics of the bullet train before me once again. Darkness lingers just beyond my bed, fought off only by the small light sitting on the bedside table. Its just bright enough to illuminate my huddled frame against the headboard, curled into myself with my left arm outstretched. There, on my forearm, lies a roughly sketched Mockingjay. The skin around it is still red from initially attack, a small portion of it scratched open. What strikes me is the accuracy of it. Jude scribbled it onto my arm in a mere minute, the lines drawn precisely and perfectly. The Mockingjay stares back at me as I examine it, my forefinger stroking across one of it's delicate wings. It it weren't for the irritated skin around it and the dull throb in my arm, I would almost believe it had the ability to spread it's inked wings and soar from this confining space, away from the horror that is to become of me. Why would it want to look after me anyway? I'm as good as dead as it is.
My brothers are hurting. The look in Jude's eyes was enough to rip my heart into a thousand pieces, not to mention was he babbled at me in panic as he crushed me to his chest. That was likely the last chance I'd ever had to see him, let alone let him know that I loved him. And what did I do? Nothing. I stood there, clinging to him in desperation and shock as my situation fully came to light. Speechlessly, I let him stumble over his words and encouragements and pleas and just held onto him. There was no turning back. I would likely never see any of my brothers again and there was nothing more I could say or do. I'd passed the point of no return without a second thought. I would still do it again, over and over and over until Pen wouldn't be reaped and I wouldn't volunteer. I would rather die a thousand times over then let her be taken away from us. Now, however, there is the chance that neither of us will return to our district ever again, no matter how hard we try. Nothing can hold back the tears that that revelation brings to me.