Choosing my favorite [Sarella, Nightbird, Jess]

When I was a toddler, my father used to take me out to the town square or other parts of the district to look at things. That was quite vague, but it was always so exciting and I jumped for joy whenever he piped up the fact we'd be going soon. Now all that's left of my father is a dead corpse ripped from limb to limb, the expression on his limp, pale face nothing more but excruciating pain. I remember watching him die. As his body fell limp, crumpling to the ground in a heap of sorrow mess. And then they caught Debbie; Debbie of all people, the quiet, harmless little girl. Why couldn't they have spared Debbie's life and taken mine? I would swap my life for hers, if that was what it took to keep her alive. But they killed her and spared me, slitting off my tongue and god knows where they put it.

"Those are now mine, I believe. Any objections?" I feel a harsh tug on my back as I was pushed forwards towards my new 'owner'. The Capitol treated us Avoxes like slaves. The only feeling I can possibly have inside me was the pure relief that Debbie could not see me in this position, being sold to Capitolites like pieces of furniture or ornaments, or perhaps you could say objects. Why me? Why not someone else, being treated in this horrible manner?! I don't deserve this! Erick died courtesy of the aggressive bitches in the Capitol, the fucking Peacekeepers who told us never to venture beyond the fence, and when we did, Erick's life was taken. And I am now in this position because of the Capitol.

Again, I think - why? As I'm being led off like a slave, I feel the scars of my family's existence form on me now. I'm already scarred in reality, the red lines piercing my skin. It's been such a wild ride in all the time I've been one of these motherfucking Avoxes. Bruises and cuts skewer my body and surround me. The pain every night gets to my head; I find myself unable to sleep due to the fact my last owner tossed me around like yesterday's trash. I was abused by these bastards from the Capitol. To hell with them, all of them.

"So... I hope you three are not a total WASTE of my precious little time..." The man who had just led them to a place in that Style Street place was addressing them. I want to talk, but then I remember, I have no tongue, just a little stump inside my mouth. So instead, I do the only possible thing; silence.

In the name of Christ, please make this fast.

Silence was used to it. Surprise selling, being dropped off, abandoned to be found by peacekeepers and beaten, sadistic minds, perverted minds, but never a kind heart. So when her current owner, who had been given her as a funeral comfort pushed her towards the new man, she let her feet take her away. It was hard to keep up with the taller people, being only four years of age. The boy right in front of her kept looking at her, and she feels a bit uneasy. Her fellow Avoxes seemed in odd condition, but she shrugs it away when led inside a workshop. Her body tenses up. It resembled her last owner's workshop. He was not kind.

Silence reaches into her pocket, feeling at the little card that told people she just turned four and her name was Sye. Or Silence. Only Daddy called her Sye. She was named by her mother, who had been an Avox and killed in the detention center after the family tried to run away. Silence remembers it clearly, the screaming of her father, her own crying, the touching and the sticky green acid that hurt her poor, poor little toes. That covered her mother. Her mother did not scream though. She fell. After they touched her. Silence thought she could absorb the pain and take it away. When she told them to stop they hurt her again, but that time she went to sleep. When she woke up, her father was yelling and they were cutting off her...

She snaps back to the room. They had woken her up again, and though she hated watching them hurt her father, all she think of was the pain in her mouth. Silence's gaze shifts from the small new master to the shelves. Something up there might be useful. She should absorb it and save it for later.

She looks over at the other girl Avox. She was beaten, obviously, and it scared Silence that the capitolites would not hesitate to harm the girl. They touched her. How could Sye let them touch her? If she was bigger, stronger, faster - she would hurt them. She knew it, but she was too scared. They were the bigger ones, the stronger ones, the ones with more power than she would ever have in a lifetime. A simple foul word managed to scared the four-year-old, and the color green drove her insane. A few owners ago, (in other words, two months ago), the woman was all in for green. Green hair, skin, clothes. Silence was in the house for about three minutes before being dropped off at the nearest corner to be found by a peacekeepers. Biting isn't exactly acceptable.

She then looks up at the boy Avox, the one shielding her. He moves, and she holds her breath as his body comes within an inch of her's. Even if it was on accident she would scream. It wouldn't be a pretty sound, definitely nothing like the screams she let out in the Detention center, but like the screams from her father after they took away his words. Silence waits for something to happen, mostly staring at the boy. He seemed the most likely to do something at the moment, despite her new master having the power and the words. Slowly, her gaze shifts to him again, young but still older than her. Maybe he was older than he appeared.

Without thinking, she sits on the floor and puts her palms flat on the ground. If the girl or boy did something, she would "know" before they did it. Or so she imagined. She couldn't really, but in her mind she was a super hero that could know the future if she tried. Something told her it was not good.

He's scolding the other Avoxes. I brace myself, waiting for the blow or the insults or the orders to come, but they never do. As I open my eyes again, I see he's yelled at the little girl to get up and the older boy to wipe the smug look off his face. My eyes are alert now, as I'm preparing for some kind of torture on me. But he never says anything to me. He just eyes me. I don't like it, it seems strange, the way he looks at me. But I have to comply or I'll be in for a beating; I don't want to go round in circles like I did with my old master.

I know that I'm just an Avox, but I feel like I'm being treated fairly now. Sure, he's calling all of us pieces of filth, but he isn't singling me out over anyone to be tortured or shouted at. I just give him the silent treatment, which is basically all I can do to anyone. I stifle a laugh at this, even if I did laugh, it would sound crazy.

"Maybe I should welcome you first to my workshop. This is where you will spend the next years of your pitiful lives. I really hope you will like it, and I hope you will get accustomed to see my face a lot during this time, because this will probably be the last face you will see in all your existence if you even DARE to disappoint me. Is that clear?" It's a lot to take in, but my head finds itself rigid in its place, refusing to nod. I can't accept the fact I'm not just waiting to be taken by someone and instead in a studio somewhere in the style street, being told that I'm now some kind of slave.

I wish there was some way I could get out of this. If there was, I would take it. I would take it happily, graciously, and return home. But there was no way I could re-claim my beloved tongue from the Capitol people. They'd probably flushed it into the sewers by now, after three years of this all. I want to speak, but the time where I was free to do whatever I liked is long gone.

"Maybe I should welcome you first to my workshop. This is where you will spend the next years of your pitiful lives. I really hope you will like it, and I hope you will get accustomed to see my face a lot during this time, because this will probably be the last face you will see in all your existence if you even DARE to disappoint me. Is that clear?" Silence lets her doll-like eyes freeze on his face. The large organs wonder what he meant. It sounded threatening, slightly similar to that of a sadistic peacekeeper. She shudders. He wanted her to like it there though, so was that okay? Maybe he was friendly! Then she runs into another wall, remembering the one that had taken her away, I hope you like your future, filth.

He approaches the protective boy, and Silence goes rigid, because it was all the more closer to her. She feels the slight vibration in the smooth floor (or so she thinks), and her blood runs cold. What was a whipping? It sounded bad. Like the green goo. Or all those knives...

"And you! Get on your feet now. Or are you a weakling like all the others of your filthy kind?" Silence jumps. She stares at the man for a second, not wishing to leave her place on the floor, where she could know what people were going to do. She quivers, then moves to her knees, putting a hand up and getting up. Her arms dangle by her sides. Fear covers her eyes, turning the sharp vision to something brighter than she would have liked it. The sounds bounce in her head as she tries to decipher the meaning, simplicity driving her insane.

Then the boy Avox jumps at him, and Silence backs away fast, running into a table behind her and hurting her head. She jumps again. What is going on? Why is he attacking? Why is the girl so still? Silence runs under the table and sits back down, placing her hands back on the floor and trying to absorb the actions. Keeping them away was her intent, though it would never work. Taking away those bad emotions. Erasing the memory. Blanking out.

~~~

"Hurry up, Sye, we GOT TO GO!" Aurum says. Her father was in a hurry, but he would not scare his daughter. Artifex picks the girl and grabs the bag, and they leave the house.

It happened before I knew it. The room turned from a man scolding his Avoxes to mayhem in four seconds. The male Avox, the older one I'd never paid attention too, has struck the man in the face. My eyes widen as the effect is almost immediate on the Capitolite. "Why you rude little RUNT! HOW DARE YOU!" I blink and suddenly I see it's a battlefield; the man has slapped the boy back. Then he turns on the little girl. I hate how the Capitol has chopped off the tongue of an innocent girl; how does she deserve this? "Stop acting like a puny baby, and get up on your feet! If you don't, that's a whipping for you!"

A whip. That was what he had. I'd never seen a whip before, my previous master preferred to beat her with his own bare fists, not a weapon. But he sometimes used knives if she had been excessively displeasing. And now the man was going to whip one of them, and I hope by hell I don't get whipped any time soon. I'm only used to fists punching me or being kicked, tied up and slashed at with a knife. The pain is adjustable to, so if I end up getting whipped constantly, I'm sure I can get used to it. Blood is just a liquid. One that we lose often, so why regret it?

"You are lucky, boy! You could have been hurt really badly if I wasn't in a good mood enough. However, know this. If you ever do that again... Oh, believe me you're going to regret it." I have time to gather my thoughts whilst he's scolding the other two, and I manage one tear to escape my eye before he's back on me, and the tear's gone somewhere, I don't know where, whether it's still visible or if I've successfully wiped it away and continued with my life.

He's looking at me again, and I don't like it once again. I didn't mind when the attention was off me, but now he's staring at me, and I'm bracing myself. "I hope you weren't planning on doing so too... I wouldn't want to scar that pretty little face of yours with my whip... This is not what I have in mind at all... But if you do it, you will narrow my choices greatly. You wouldn't want this leather whip to hurt you, now, would you?" My eyes widen. My pretty little face? Ruined? Oh, master, it's already been ruined. It was ruined long ago. But I don't have the ability to tell him so, instead I just remain silent as usual. "The next one who dares to attack me... will be severely punished."

I'd figured that out already. I didn't fancy being whipped till I bled and was unconscious, so I remained rigid in her position. My only question lingering in my mind was, What awful chores will he make us do? I've been doing chores for three years, as long as they're not too painful I can handle them, but this man doesn't seem like the pleasing kind, so I'm not expecting anything dandy within the next painful and pitiful years of her life.

Her lip quivers. The talking man was loud and angry, and he touched the other boy. He hurt him. He was on the ground now, and something red was coming out of his arm. Silence cranes her neck, then takes it back with the realization he was hurt. She was not dumb. She knew anger when she saw it, knew what hitting was more than anything else. Then she realizes the bad man had spoken to her, angrily, and she stares at him in fear. What did he say? She wanted to know so he would not hurt her. Legs work hard as she crawls out from under the table, where he could see her better. Maybe that was what he wanted - to know she was still in the room. She was no longer behind anything or anyone.

Sye turns her head in time to see the hurt boy slowly standing up. The anger she felt in the floor beneath her palms was an earthquake, so she closes her eyes. Still sitting. When her eyes open again the boy is in the air, jumping onto the other's back. Silence yelps and closes her eyes again, sliding forward so her face is on the ground but her legs are still criss-crossed. As her nose touches the ground she takes a hard breath, a thud coming from the direction of the two males. She does not peek. She keeps her eyes closed and body still as three silent seconds pass. But she is not there for those three seconds.

She is with Daddy. He is fiddling with dyes, letting her sort the plants they had just picked. While most capitolites made tne clothes, he dyed the blank cloth sent from District eight. Neons hurt Sye's eyes, she never did like bright colors. The colors right now were browns and blacks though, the current week's fashion. Silence picks up a white length and rubs her fingers over the cardboard-stiff material and asks her father what it was for. He frowns, thinking of her mother and the escape scheduled for the next month. "Avox tunic."

Silence remains still, the memory echoing in her mind then slowly fading away to nothing, just another blessed day she would never know again. She missed her father, she knew he was alive because he smiled at her before they left. He assured her. Her mum though, the poor child knew what hapened. Green dots form in the darkness of tightly shut eyes.