box [23] // arx

semper
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box [23] // arx Apr 22, 2013 10:33:19 GMT -5

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Post by semper on Apr 22, 2013 10:33:19 GMT -5

Tempus has never felt so foreign to me. Not a single soul is in here; the red curtains are drawn, closing off the dark stage to all but the few that remain here. My friends. Cod has pretty much gone missing; Mercury spends more time at home; Xana is nowhere to be seen – basically Tempus has become a hallow shell of what it used to be.

I still remember the lights and how abnormally warm the stage got during opening night. It always amazed me how you could never see the audience once the lights were dimmed and the spotlights were directed onto you, but I guess that also somewhat helped you get into character more. Reality is dimmed so you can immerse yourself into a fictitious world that sometimes is much better than what you grew up with.

I miss all of that: I miss my Tempus friends, I miss the warm lights, I miss my little makeshift home in the basement. I miss the “parties” after opening night, I miss the mint tea I would make for anyone and everyone, I miss all those countless nights I spent trying to perfect each of my lines (even if it did drive me insane with frustration) – basically I just miss being alive.

Sitting in box 23 – Gwynn’s box – I pull my knees up to my chest and hug them tightly. Being a ghost was alright sometimes, I guess, but it was so hard trying to communicate with the living. All I want is for Mercury and the rest of them to know that I’m still here and that I never truly left them but I haven’t found the means to. And if I did try, it might scare them. There had been plenty of nights where we all gathered and told ghost stories to scare each other. Funny to think that now it’s me (and Navy) who’s the ghost.

Navy – she’s around here somewhere, I think. I haven’t seen her in a while – days, weeks, I have no idea. Time has just sort of muddled altogether and distorted itself. I raise my gaze from the carpet and look out over the main seating area, trying to imagine what it looked like when it was full but my memory fails me. I don’t even panic at the forgotten image – instead I feel a pang of despair within my chest. There’s no going back so why should I feel scared that I can’t recall it? No, it’s not fear, it’s… more sorrow than anything. Tempus is a world I can never go back do despite how desperately I wish I could.

and there will come a time, you’ll see, with no more tears
and love will not break your heart but dismiss your fears
get over your hill and see what you find there
with grace in your heart and flowers in your hair

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i hear the mountains calling me home

arx!!
Retired Staff

2,484 POSTS

Pronouns: she/her
last seen Nov 12, 2024 1:44:45 GMT -5

literally so gay, doing so many crimes

box [23] // arx May 10, 2013 17:27:32 GMT -5

Quote

Post by arx!! on May 10, 2013 17:27:32 GMT -5

If only I had one wish
I'd only wish for you.
If I only had one dream
I'd only dream of you.

I've stopped counting how long it's been. For awhile I kept track, watching the sun rise and sink and rise and sink again, keeping little tick marks in my head of how long it has been. Since what? I was born, since I hugged my brothers, since I got sent to the Games, since I sewed my mouth shut, since I got my head chopped clean off my body, since I've been dead, since I've done anything but wander around emptying halls, watching my friends disappear. These pasts months ... no, years? - have been nothing but hollow. I have never felt more alone than I do in death. And I have certainly felt alone before. Raped by a dad who only to find out later isn't even my real dad. Left by a mother who just quit trying after my worst nightmare left the house. Watched as one of my best friends died right before my eyes, leaving me with no one for a week. (But it seemed like years and years and years that he was gone ...) But now here, the number of days is lost as an endless lifetime ~~deathtime? afterlife?~~ awaits me.

I sit in my little room, which really isn't anything more than a closet, looking through my stuff, still untouched by anyone. Not even my letters I wrote before each Reaping have been opened and read yet. But I want them t be read. I want them to see me My mind begins to wander and I start to hum something. Just a tune stuck in my head, just a part of me that still wants to be alive. I've watched everything I love slowly drift away from me since I have been here, walking around on stage and in the seats and in the closets, invisible to everyone I walk by. I can even try to talk to them and they won't hear me. Death is cruel in that way. I can see them but they can't see me. I feel my chest ache with longing and I start to hum louder and louder until it turns into whispered lyrics that seem to echo throughout the entire opera house. I miss being here. Yes, I am here right now, but I miss being here.

Spotlights shining on your face, the sound of the piano, the creak of the floorboards beneath your feet. The smell of polished wood, the musty dust that gets caught in the curtains, the audience that seemed to stretch out forever and then suddenly disappear when you walked on stage. Mercury's voice echoing through the entire place, the smell of Theo's tea, the little "Good luck" Rio gave to everyone - to me. I don't get much of that anymore. Not when everyone spends more and more time away from here and slowly the performances stop and the people I love get even further away than they already are. Who knew that after Theo and I left everything would fall apart?

Theo. How long has it been now since I have seen him? How long have I sat in this room and done nothing but think? Days? Weeks? Has it even turned into months now? I uncross my legs and begin to wander through the halls. Empty. I keep singing because I am certain no one is around and because sometimes it is the only thing that helps me realize I am still around, even if no one else can see that and thousands of people watched me die on television. I jump on floorboards and they don't make a sound. I make my way to the stage where the ground beneath my is ice cold. But that seems to be the way everything around me is now. Cold and distant. But when I wiggle my toes in front of me and stare out into the seemingly endless rows of empty chairs and my whispered lyrics seem to soar all the way to the finally row, I feel my heart flutter in my chest. It still beats on. I still live even though I am dead. I can still feel what I felt back then, all those weeks or months or years ago. I let myself smile as my gaze glides over the boxes above the stage, resting on box 23. Gwynn's. Or, at least it used to be. Probably the best spot in all of Tempus. Of course that's where he is. I sigh and sit, letting my legs dangle over the edge of the stage.

"Do you remember it? When it is full of people and the applause at the end just sort of filled you up with pure joy?" I call out, up to the tall ceilings, into box 23 where I can see Theo sitting. Alone. My memory shifts suddenly from Tempus to the arena where I cried for a lost friend, for someone to hold me as I fell apart and I wanted it to be him. But he wasn't there. He was here. I swallow hard, fear and pain making it suddenly harder to breathe. My words echo back at me, resounding in my own ears. (Do I remember it?) I look around the empty chairs, the silence deafening all my senses and pulling me into it's arms. I can't handle alone. Not again. But here it is, the silence and painful memories, clutching me tight. "Because I can't. I can't remember." I give a little laugh after it to keep cold tears from coming into my eyes. My hand passes over my lips, looking for the tiny holes that the needle left there. But there are no indents in my skin, no scars on my body, nothing to prove I had been through hell and back. Nothing. But I'm sure if someone cut me open and looked at my mind they would see a labyrinth and criss cross pattern of memories that left scars so deep that nothing could ever make them disappear.

I shake my head, clearing my mind as best I can.

"What happened to this place, Theo?" I fold my hands in my lap. "It's ... just not home anymore."[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify][/color]

If I could bring one person with me
I'd only ever pick you.
One in a million is what you are
A diamond and a treasure.

"I run on the road, long before I dance under the lights."

semper
Retired Staff

2,354 POSTS
last seen Jan 1, 2014 0:57:11 GMT -5

box [23] // arx May 16, 2013 13:09:27 GMT -5

Quote

Post by semper on May 16, 2013 13:09:27 GMT -5

I don’t know why Gwynn used to follow me around. Did I ever mean anything to her? Did she view me as someone she could trust? Someone that she felt comfortable enough around to just trail behind? Frankly there have been times where I wish I could see myself from her point of view. But her face – I can hardly remember it anymore. In my mind all I see is a vague outline of her: no eyes, no mouth, no nose, and even her hair is just a blur. Gwynn, now, is nothing but a name. Five letters, one syllable, Gwynn.

That’s when I hear her voice. I look up from the carpet, spotting the one girl that now means more to me than anything else, living or deceased. The one who didn’t let me die alone. She asks me if I can remember back when these red velvet seats didn’t have the thick layer of dust on them like they do now, back when the glass of the stage lights weren’t broken, back when this place was as alive as we were. Tempus, the shell and body, and us, the people, the blood that keeps the creature alive. I don’t realize that my hands are clenched into fists until I feel my arms shaking from the strain. Navy’s words are stirring up what used to be dormant emotions, all smothered and locked away once this overwhelming system of sorrow and depression stalled out and just hovered above me constantly. I feel a pang in my chest – a sudden and deep ache, quite like a longing for something that’s just beyond my fingertips. I can’t grasp it, and even if I could then my grip would slip and I would lose it. I long for the way things used to be, back before this desolate feeling took up residence inside my very core, completely gutting me and leaving me wallowing in hopelessness.

I take a breath, holding it in for a moment and then closing my eyes, focusing all my energy on the girl that’s on the stage. There’s that familiar buzzing feeling, like when your foot falls asleep, but it’s all over my body. A numbness, that is. The small rush of air, feeling of weightlessness and floating, and then the solid ground again. I exhale, opening my eyes and blinking a few times.

The view of the theatre from the stage is foreign. It’s dark and smells of musk, much to my disappointment. I unfold my arms and uncurl my legs, stretching them out so they dangle over the edge of the stage. I can feel Navy’s presence beside me and the weight of her questions on my mind, but truthfully I have no answer. ”I can’t remember anything but emotions,” I mumble quietly and regretfully. I wish more than anything I could recall how Tempus looked when it was all lit up; I wish I could remember how it felt to celebrate after opening night; I wish I could remember even simple things like Gwynn’s face. This theatre has undoubtedly seen its better days. ”I don’t know, Navy. It’s hollow and d-… cold, but it’s the only home I have.” I quickly blink, fighting back the tears that are threatening to start falling. Even crying is something I miss: tears are supposed to be warm and salty, not cold and lifeless. I force my eyes shut tightly, reaching out and circling my arms around Navy, holding onto her the way I wish I could have just before I left her.

and there will come a time, you’ll see, with no more tears
and love will not break your heart but dismiss your fears
get over your hill and see what you find there
with grace in your heart and flowers in your hair

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[/blockquote][/justify][/size]

i hear the mountains calling me home

arx!!
Retired Staff

2,484 POSTS

Pronouns: she/her
last seen Nov 12, 2024 1:44:45 GMT -5

literally so gay, doing so many crimes

box [23] // arx May 18, 2013 10:41:45 GMT -5

Quote

Post by arx!! on May 18, 2013 10:41:45 GMT -5

If only I had one wish
I'd only wish for you.
If I only had one dream
I'd only dream of you.

Dying didn't even hurt. Once you give in and you know there is nothing else you can do to fight it any longer, it's pretty easy just to let go. That's the hard part: letting go. Of course I didn't realize it as it was happening, but I was never so much afraid at death, but at what it meant. I wasn't afraid of blades or poison or anything that might hurt me, but of what it meant if I let a blade cut too deep or drank a vial of poison or jumped into a river and forgot to swim back to the top. It meant that I was giving up, that I was done trying - done fighting - for the people I loved and the things I cared about. And I didn't want to give up on them because I know they would never give up on me like that, but in the end, I figured it out. How was a singing, crying, crazy girl like me supposed to go home and have a normal life again? It wasn't possible. I wasn't going to come back to District 6 and be that quiet girl who no one notices anymore. I would have to visit the Capitol every year and give some sort of advice to a pair of frightened teenagers only to watch them go into the Arena and die. I don't think I could have done it. Build someones hopes up only to tear the rug from beneath them? I would never be able to do something like that. I wouldn't be strong enough.

And who would I talk to if I were still alive? Who in the living world would ever understand me? Even now in death no one really understands ... Theo is here with me, he knows what the Reaping felt like, what dying felt like, but he doesn't know what it's like to kill someone. The truth is I had hoped that when you died you just disappeared, felt nothing, never came back to the world of thought and memory. Because now I'm dead and I still have to remember watching Curtis Grant die. I can't even say sorry to his family. I can't even say sorry to him. I killed him because I wanted to get home and then I let go just a day later. And that wasn't fair. And I will forever regret it. Forever. That is how long I will be here at Tempus - eternity. I've watched the death of one of my best friends, I've lost my mind (both metaphorically and literally), I sewed my lips shut, screamed at people and voices that weren't even there, killed someone and watched his crippled friend hold him until he was completely gone, and I have died in a way that most would consider horrific. I will never be able to forget any of the things that happened to me. And I will regret it all each and every day. I guess that's the price you pay for thinking you may be able to escape the memories.

Memories. I have all of the ones that I regret and not the ones that I always wanted to keep a hold of.

When I look up again at the emptiness, I know I have never felt more alone. Even with Theo here, even having endured days of alone in the Arena, even those moments when my dad came to my room at night - even then, I had never felt as alone as I do right now. But then I am aware of Theo beside me. I stare down at his feet, dangling over the edge of the stage next too mine. I wished those feet were next to mine for how long when I was alone in the lotus field? And now I finally have him here, next to me, and I still feel like the world is falling apart around me. ”I can’t remember anything but emotions." And I feel a tear run down my cheek, a single cold tear. It's one of the handful of things I wanted to keep with me forever and I can't remember any of it. Why can't I remember?

”I don’t know, Navy. It’s hollow and d-" Dead. Did it die with us? Did home die when we went away? "... cold, but it’s the only home I have.” Home. It's not a place, it's people. Mercury, Gwynn, Rio, Xana, Cod, Keagan, Theo ... Tempus isn't home, they are. But I only have one of them with me now and the others are just slowly drifting away. Do they know we need them around? That without them our hearts ache and our memories fade? More tears start to slowly fall from my eyes and when Theo's arms encircle me I just let myself collapse into him and let go. The hardest part is always letting go. And I bury my head into his neck and just let the tears come. I don't let myself sob, but I just let the silent tears fall. I missed him. When he was dead and I was still alive, I missed him. I missed my brothers and everyone at Tempus and my warm bed and everything about District 6 but I missed him the most. And now we are here - the only ones - sitting in an empty place that we still insist on calling home.

My voice is calm when I speak, and if it weren't for the tears that no doubt reach his skin, I might be able to fake that everything was alright. But I am crying and nothing is alright.

"Why is this happening to us?" I ask. But I'm not sure that there really is answer to the question. It's just something to ask, something to say. And everything inside me just aches as I wonder if it will get better, if all this loneliness and despair will ever fade or go away. Because I know it won't get better. Not when you can't find home.

If I could bring one person with me
I'd only ever pick you.
One in a million is what you are
A diamond and a treasure.

"I run on the road, long before I dance under the lights."

semper
Retired Staff

2,354 POSTS
last seen Jan 1, 2014 0:57:11 GMT -5

box [23] // arx Jun 8, 2013 19:04:45 GMT -5

Quote

Post by semper on Jun 8, 2013 19:04:45 GMT -5

I remember those moments after I died, when Navy was still alive. It was so terribly cold, so lonesome, and so utterly terrifying. It took a while for me to even realize where I was. I should recognize Tempus, shouldn’t I? The creaking floors, painted walls, chipped cabinets – this is the place that I called home.

So how could I not recognize it?

My memories left with my life. That last exhale breathed out all traces of comforting remembrances, all feelings of warm comfort, and even the tingling sensation of love. It hollowed out and now all there is left is a void that I can’t fill. Nothing I do can make me feel even remotely whole again. I’ve lain in my room, just as I had for so many years, but it never felt the same. I’ve lurked in the kitchen, searching the cabinets for tea and mint leaves, finding them all dried and crisp.

I don’t want to let go. I don’t want to let go of Navy, of Tempus, of any and all remaining traces of my life I left behind. Though Navy is here with me, as lifeless as I am, she’s lost the bodily warmth she had when her heart was beating. She’s still Navy, but it’s a hollow version of her.

What is happening to us? Are we trapped in some limbo? Is our existence only known to us? The mere thought of that sends a wave of panic through me, causing my arms to tighten around her, fingers curling into the unusual fabric of her shirt.

Dear Ripred I missed her – when I had died, I was absolutely terrified being all by myself, lurking in this limbo that’s invisible to the rest of humanity. I hold onto her tightly, burying my face into her shoulder.

”I don’t know.” The answer is short but that’s all I can say. I haven’t the foggiest idea where we are or even what we are. I’m too nervous to let my mind focus on that puzzle for too long, frightened by what possibilities may arise. ”I’m scared though. Where are we? Are we half alive or something? Why can I touch you but no one else?”

((Bah that turned out way shorter than I had anticipated Dx ))

and there will come a time, you’ll see, with no more tears
and love will not break your heart but dismiss your fears
get over your hill and see what you find there
with grace in your heart and flowers in your hair