>>Target Practice<< {Noelia}

Bombs. She needed bombs. Make bombs, detonate bombs, pick up the ashes, do it again. Over and over.

Grabbing a bottle full of acid, she shook it, then hurled it into the foliage. She had pretty good strength for her stature; She had always been the stronger one.

The stronger what? Person? Child in school? No. Twin.

. . .
[Yesterday, 12:46 am.]

She had stumbled into District Twelve, looking for anything of interest. She liked District Twelve. The peace-keepers were more lax and people didn't question anything. They all had their own things to worry about. Most of them hunted, so a girl crawling under the fence wasn't such a surprising sight either. Not to mention the HOB. Paradise to the poor. All she had to do was bring in a few squirrels, and she could trade for a few nice things. Never anything she especially needed though... but cookies and cakes, and small little trinkets. She had even traded for a bit of wine once. Or rather, she had paid a man to trade her stuff for a bit of wine, so there wouldn't be any problems. No regrets there.

But this time around, people weren't starving or hanging around the HOB. Because, apparently, the hunger games had came and went. And, apparently, they had been blessed with a winner.

The district didn't seem qite as dismal now. Not at all... No one seemed to be hungry, no one seemed to even want to trade at the HOB. Apparently, whichever district produces a winner gets prizes and food to make life a little more comfortable. Not bad, she wouldn't usually mind such things. Let them have their rewards.. but it just made things more difficult for her. It takes effort ot travel to district twelve, and now that she was here, there was nothing to do. All that time, wasted. She had been wasting a lot of things lately... hopefully her deal with Dorian would fix things like that soon. But for now, she had to stick with whatever resources she had.

[11:14]
Might as well start where the crowd was. The district square was actually occupied for once, so she decided to join in the celebration and maybe pick a few pockets while she was at it. That was a new thing too; stealing. It was actually much easier then it looked. Too easy, really, but again. Resources. She needed her resources.

The District square was re-broadcasting the games from the beginning by the time she reached it. One of the strange capitol people - a women, maybe around her late thirties with porcelain skin and long golden hair- was pulling names out of a crystal bowl. The TV suddenly burst into static. It was District Twelve after all. But soon, the image reappeared. "-z Myrrh!" Poor kid. Wonder how well that went. People were still lingering around the small screen, talking to one another. A table of food was displayed towards the center of the place, piled high with tastey appetizers. Seph helped herself.

. . .

She never saw the thing explode, but it did, causing the a crow to shirp frantically, causing the creaking of trees as they fell, causing animals to scurry for shelter. And that was good enough. She reached for another bottle.

. . .
[11:15]

The hunger games had never been a big part of-- no. That wasn't her life. Never had been. She was an runaway; an upriser, a wandere in the wild. But that was a lie- She had been brung up in a district. With parents. And a sister. Ailia. Ignorant creature though; the girl never knew how to handle herself. She used to read alone, work on puzzles for hours on end [why work with cardboard pieces, when you can actually strategize with real weaponry?] Seph had offered.

The girl hang near the factories. Used to take long walks around the district, jump in the puddles overgrown by algae. She never talked to anyone, and they never talked to her. And while Seph had gone into the wilderness to hunt, the girl trailed behind to sit it a grassy patch and "feel the sunshine." She had been an idiot, even Seph had known that. But Seph was never one to underestimate people. Then she would've been the real idiot. So she let the girl come.

But soon, that didn't matter. Seph had decided to leave, find something better. The forest was more like home then the district would ever be. So she left. Ailia didn't seem to mind; they had always been strangers, aliens to one another. Neither had ever understood the other's motives. So it was easy to depart. Parents? They wouldn't care. Ailie had always been the little dress-up doll of the family anyway, sparing herself the beauty treatments. So mom was satisfied. And father didn't pay attention either way...

. . .

Throw. Land. Boom. Throw. Land-

She was wasting everything. Wasting.

Boom.

Stupid limitations...

. . .
[11:27]

" ...Alilia Goodnite?" Haha. Ailia's name was always said wrong. Most commonly wrongly pronounced as "Ah-lee-ah". Seph shook her head, chewing thoughtfully on a honey-glazed bread roll; her seventh one. Oh, Ailia, back in District Three with your puzzles and picture books... "It's Ailia." She could almost hear Ailia correcting the first speaker, adding emphasis to the "Ail" part.

Ailia, Ailia, Ailia... Ailia could've left that boring life. Left their obsessive mother, the district, the pollution. Everything, but she had chosen to stay. She could've even been a good asset to the Uprising, if she applied herself enough. Strategizing maybe... Logic... again, just a maybe. But Ailia had chosen to stay, which just proved Seph's point.

Suddenly she heard gasps. Gasping? Why was her subconcious gasping? But it wasn;'t her subconcious. It was the television.

Seph didn't have to look up to put two and two together. It was already obvious.

. . .

After this one, there would only be three bombs left. Three. And they would be wasted on animals and leaves. They should be saved... for. For the Capitol. Or the anti-uprising. She wanted the gone too.

Stop it. Stop it now.

Throw, land, boom.

. . .
[11:28]

Ailia was dead.

. . .

Grab bottle. Ready to throw. Pause.

. . .
[11:31]

Dead.

. . .

Pause...