I'm Not The One \\ [Python]

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The Capitol was everything she dreamed it would be.

Glimpses from the train allowed her an image of a sunny, sparkling metropolis set in a valley, with skyscrapers reaching to conquer the height of the giant mountains that overlooked the city like Gods themselves. And at the station, the people smiled their jubilant smiles, adorned in bright colors and frills and hats bejeweled with rubies and diamonds. The buildings beyond gleamed in the afternoon sun, and by the time the train stopped and the whole crew shuffled into the open air, Yaa was nearly drooling.

It almost made up for the fact that she was inevitably going to die.

Distracted as she was, that thought would creep up on her at random times, seizing her mind with panic for a sheer second or two before she pushed it away, like a child stuffing the dirty laundry under the bed to deal with later. At some point it would all pile up and explode over the bedroom floor, but until that point arrived she would settle her thoughts elsewhere.

Even through training the next day, she found that she was capable of forgetting. If she looked away from the Careers and their brutal force and focused on herself, on the tasks at hand, the bad thoughts would drift away and she could center herself around absolutely nothing.

But distraction would only protect her for so long.

It was when she approached the throwing knife station that things went wrong. Knives were laid out like trophies, sharp and shiny and delicate, as if they had long ago been used for killing and nobody had touched them in years, except to clean them and pet them and occasionally feed them with the blood they so longed for.

It scared her how much she wanted to try them out.

The man working at the station eyed her quietly, so she he gingerly picked up a knife. ”So how the hell do I do this?” she asked, and he immediately plucked it out of her hands as if she might hurt herself with it. He began to ramble on about technique, and at the same time she got the feeling that somebody was observing her. Turning, she saw a dark-haired, green-eyed girl whose name she didn't know. The new presence sent that all-too-familiar rush of panic flying through her, for she had been operating under the assumption that she might learn to throw knives quietly and without anyone there to watch her as she failed.

”What?” she asked blankly, holding her chin up like an animal attempting to make itself look bigger to ward off a predator.



ooc: I wasn't sure if you wanted throwing knives or regular knives so I can edit it if I guessed wrong.

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