The Return (Open)

He seemed distracted, maybe more so distraught. I didn't really know him all that well but I didn't think Ghost to trail off in thought from the moment I heard him speak. Maybe I was too brash in what I've done. Was Forrest too brash in coming to help you? No, he wasn't, that's right. The boy was going to need help in whatever he did. And going to back to District One was something she would need to do if this was going where I thought it was going. Wanted Posters, getting back old friends; The boy's rage wasn't sated after the years of rebellion. And I wanted to help him in any way I could. There wasn't a need to hold back anymore; what the capitol was doing, all of it, was just heading off toward a destructive path. People were only going to rise back up with arms one day. Why not now?

Then the sword catches my eye, the one with his bag of supplies. I'd never seen one before... Forrest had used a bow, and he somehow taught me how to use a knife. The whip was just something I had self-taught myself, seeing as though I couldn't depend on a blade if it dulled. But the blades, they had always frightened me. The thought that one cut could carve straight through the skin was unbearable. How easily something like that could take someones life. And how precious life really is. I would hate to be holding their life in my hands, blade at their throat, hoping that they will just not ask me to take it from them.

Because I could...

My attention turns toward Ghost now, who's looking at the door to the place. I'm not sure what he wants to see there or maybe even what he's looking at, but that hardly matters. Tomorrow I'll be back in town, back in District One, or whenever. But I would be back with the people I so dispised. Back where Will was... The kid that drove me up the wall with his impure thoughts on people. Did he not know what the world was really like? Taunting me to believe that District One was a better place than the outside world? Maybe I could visit my family again, just this one last time before I do anything dramatic. I'm sure they would like to know their 'little' girl is safe. It would be best since it might be the last time I'm there peacably.

“I'm going to lay down,” My voice is calm, a slim smile appearing on my face. “Whenever you're ready to go, just wake me.” I grab into my bag, pulling out a sleeping bag, and curl into it. The bed is his, seeing as though the the place is his. I don't need comfort anyways; it will only remind me of the times back in District One. I'd rather live like the rest of them. Like those who are unfortunate enough to not afford beds, or cots, or anything to sleep in. I have to remind myself that I am human, no better than them.

No better than them...
I drift into the melancholy world of sleep.