una mille - [Stars]

An arm thumping against grass instead of finding the warmth of a companion reminded Demeter Glory that the downfall of her ally was still fresh and yet to be embedded permanently into her system. Without the warmth of Ailis to share by her side, there was nothing the evening could offer other than the anticipated anthem that would only remind her of the unfortunate loss. Ailis’ death had been inevitable from the beginning -

Everyone must die if I am to claim my crown and seize the throne as queen - but she had hoped the district twelve mystery would’ve lasted longer than her district’s curse would allow. Granted, she had survived long enough to kill and prove herself worth Demeter’s affection, but being of the lowest district winning was an impossibility with such sturdy opponents sharing footsteps in the arena. It was only a matter of time before someone or something ruined Ailis and severed the bond formed between her and the dragon herself. The fondness developed for the girl was unmistakable, but with Ailis’ body drained of warmth, of blood, and of the whispers of her gentle breaths, there was no reason to seek out and grasp such a feeble and lost thread of desire. Ailis’ heart had stopped beating, and now it was time for Demeter’s to pound like the thunderous banging of drums while she slaughtered each and every remaining tribute until she was standing before the throne of elegant riches and golden glory, the life that is destined for me.

The anthem’s obnoxiously familiar blaring drew her out of her trance and forced her attention to the false heavens of the underworld. The first two faces to appear were of little significance to her - merely two more nobodies dead in an arena crawling with real threats. With Ailis looking down upon them, Demeter realized that only eight tributes remained; seven more, and the crown is mine. Victory was within reach, flaunting its luxury and seducing her with its taunting cries of malice, and with such a small number of wandering souls left she needed to be wary. Nobody was to be trusted - not even Heather, the silent fair-haired bird who stole the life of Ailis out of mercy. Too bad my mercy died with her. She didn’t plan on dragging such a burden around for much longer. Soon, she would have to dispose of Heather, but not until her worth reached its maximum duration. The girl may have been a fragile creature with an endless supply of tears to spare over worthless lives, but she could wield a weapon and wield it well enough to spill the blood of her enemies in battle. That, to her, was worth enduring the silence, the tears, and the bitter tension building in their atmosphere like a bubble of pressure waiting to burst. Survival, that’s all she needed. Heather could be her ticket to another easy day; a sacrifice for the sake of Demeter’s rebirth after the last tribute kissed the angels goodbye and accepted death’s cold embrace.

The two ladies stirred in the early morning, Demeter’s eyes caked with sleep deprivation and darkened by the shadows of wear and tear in the presence of the prolonged stress in the arena. She was slowly withering around the edges, breaking down like every other tribute beneath the pressure but still holding the pieces together and fighting for the one shattered life she was given an opportunity to mend. My time isn’t up. She was still radiating strength like the golden sun - always there, always shining, always luminous and beautiful but painful when its wrath could not be stopped. Physically, she was exhausted and her injuries from previous days still faintly throbbed whenever she moved too dramatically - but mentally, she was invincible, and as soon as her eyelids were parted she was up and at it again with Heather by her side. Together as two hunters in a nearly-demolished pack they fled the treacherous meadows only to find the plant life fading and diminishing in numbers until a solid black floor desolate of life replaced its beauty. Darkness encompassed the unfamiliar area, and a wary Demeter took cautious footsteps when surveying her surroundings. Eventually, they came across a large chasm with an aura so malevolent she thought she could hear the demonic whispers beckoning her from within.”Join us,” they cried in high-pitched croaks and growls. Never. She strayed away from the malicious abyss, but remained upon the black, glassy floor of the underworld in hopes of avoiding trouble while she stole a few moments of extra relaxation

Do you believe in God?” Her voice was small, and her tone oh so soft like a bird’s clipped feather, but in a wasteland of shadows and eerie silence her inquiry was like the shattering of a glass vase in Demeter’s ears. The world wants to know what you believe. Perhaps it was time to reveal a few secrets.

”Are you asking me if I believe in a benevolent God?” A merciful deity with the kindest of intentions, sprinkling hope onto souls and leading them to salvation? ”Or a god that ruins lives? A god that lets innocent children be raised for slaughter each year while their families watch in terror?” She paused - she wanted the words to sink. For the truth to sink. To have faith in anything but ones own potential was foolish. There is no hope in this world - not for you, little bird. Uncapping her water jug, she watched liquid slosh in its container as she stared into the darkness where she knew Heather’s breaths were sounding. ”Let me tell you something about my life, Heather Elliot,” she began, crossing her legs as the liquid washed the drought of her worries away. ”Where I come from, Career training isn’t the only thing that thrives. I come from a place where poverty is my only companion, where my delusional grandparents are the only connection I have left to the bastard that stole my chastity, and where sleeping with countless men for money is my only means of survival. Everything you see in this arena? It is all the best thing that has ever happened to me. When I win, my entire life will turn around and be worth living, and it will all be my doing.”

How demented did she sound? The Hunger Games being the best thing that has ever happened to Demeter Merwin-Glory? Count on it The world might as well discover the truth, since she would be their future victor within a few nights time, only a few more sunsets away. So close, yet still struggling for a grasp. ”Put yourself in my shoes, and you’ll realize that having faith in a benevolent god is hopeless.” Her tone was bitter, her heart shrouded by frosted venom and her eyes blinded by hatred. She was a dense sphere of flame waiting to burst forth and burn the arena to the ground, and considered herself to be an unstoppable force. Not a career, but still sturdy. Still capable. Still immortal, still destined for a rebirth, still lethal despite her failure to kill any tributes. Better to save my energy and leave it to my pack. Why waste her strength on the weak tributes when she could save it all for the true competition? There were only eight tributes remaining - the eight worthiest warriors, those capable of destroying her in a split second’s time. Fortunately, with the fuel still churning in her body she was prepared for anything, and when those tributes arrived, she would face them with her chin tilted up and her eyes burning with a passion for the victory she deserved.

”To answer your question simply,” she continued, setting her empty jug down at her side. ”No, I don’t. If god exists, and god is merciful, then my life must be his idea of a sick, practical joke.”

[drinks her jug of purified water]