The sky's a'cryin' (Open)

The thunder cracks in the sky with such anger, I wonder if Benat has anything to do with it. For some unknown reason, the idea of him being upset with me keeps floating up in my mind. I've made amends with Sampson and our family is relatively well off (I wonder if it's because we don't have that extra mouth to feed), so how could he be upset with me? As I scale down the tree that I was just pulling fruit from, still watching the sky as it darkens with heavy, saturated clouds, I try to convince myself that the weather has nothing to do with Benat. He lives in the stars. The daytime is not his realm, even though I'm positive he can still watch us without the cover of night. But this sudden rain is not him.

Walking down the dirt road, kicking up stardust as I go, I keep my eyes locked on my feet. If I look up, I'm afraid someone might try to initiate a conversation, try to apologize for my recent loss. Even worse, I think that if I allow my eyes to watch the many people around me as they head home to shelter from the rain, I'll see someone mouth the name 'Cricket Antoinette'. Today's been a relatively good day, and I don't want to ruin it with the sudden burst of anger that erupts in me when I think of the Hunger Games newest Victor. Some kind of pain, from guilt or anger, begins to build in my chest as I think about the girl from District 2, so I stop to mess with the laces of my boots. The crowd of people departing from the orchards flows past me, leaving me behind to fiddle with my shoe. A few steady breaths, partnered with the feeling of cold raindrops beginning to pelt my skin, smothers my anger before it has a chance to blossom.

The rain makes me shiver, reminding me too much of the water Sampson had fallen into just a few nights ago. We'd both been a mess. As the drops soak into my clothes and hair, I don't want them to fully drench me. I don't want to be that shivering, sniffling boy that looked like someone had tried to drown him; I don't want to look like Sampson had when Benat's death had nearly stolen him from me.
So I run. The rain keeps coming and the thunder sounds like cannons as it threatens to shake me to my core. But I keep going, sliding over the path that is quickly turning to mud. It is the slippery surface that causes me to collide into some poor soul that is walking in the rain.
"Gah!" I grunt, trying to maintain my balance and still keep the girl I'd run into from falling, "Why the hell are you even walking? It's raining buckets out here!"

The stranger in the rain, with her hands knotted in my shirt, licks her lips and touches her face like it's as foreign to her as it is to me. Through my sandy, soaked bangs, I watch her eyes as she looks up at me, "I..." Her words are quiet enough that I want to read her lips and forget about her eyes. But I can't. "I don't know," she finally gets the words out and I'm still staring at her eyes. Does she see me? Does she recognize me as an Izar? Do I look familiar, like that boy from District 11 that died at the lake on his fifth day in the Arena? I wait for it, even after I assume she's done talking. Her hands remain tangled in my shirt and I wait. I can't leave her eyes for a minute because I'm waiting for that eureka moment, that realization that will claim my face as Benat's instead of my own. It takes longer for some, but they always figure it out eventually. They always realize why they have that deja vu feeling in the back of their heads. I look like my dead brother. What can you do?

When she begins to giggle, I wonder if she's crazy. My anger mutates into fear. The stranger's light chuckle warps into Ivy Soren's laugh, after she had killed my brother and cut the hand from the Magpie girl. It makes me want to shove this suddenly dangerous stranger from me, to make her hands let go. Some crazy girl isn't going to kill me like that one got my brother. My body tenses as I ready to shove her, to expel her far from me so I can run freely away back home to Sampson and my family, but she lets go. As if she can read my mind or feel the anxiety bubbling up within me, her hands release me and she apologizes. Whether from the cold of the rain or not, I'm shaking.
"We need to get out of this storm!" she yells through the rain and darts for the cover of a small alleyway. I can see her eyes in the darkness of the dry space. I don't move.

The sky keeps crying, pouring freezing tears into my clothes and onto my skin. My eyes move to look down the path, to see if I can spot my sleeping house among the others. I know they'll worry if I don't get home. They do that now. Before the 63rd Games, my parents hadn't really bothered with curfews or anything like that. Now, if I'm late, it's like they think I've been devoured by a Chupacabra. It still doesn't stop me from moving to shelter in the alleyway with the girl who may or may not be crazy. Insane or not, she hasn't made the connection of me to Benat yet, and that makes her a little more worthy of my time.
"Don't you have somewhere to go? I'm sure your family will worry," I stand a good foot away from her (due to my slight fear that she's like Ivy Soren) as I talk, "You could have made it home, if you ran like everyone else did."

No longer feeling the touch of the rain as it pours from the clouds, the goosebumps on my arms begin to fade. I begin to rub at them nervously, trying my best to make them vanish completely. The girl's company was not something I had intended to keep, but seeing as I chose to follow her into the shelter of the alleyway, I am the only one to blame. I'm like Benat and the Magpie. Lured into a false sense of security, I want to trust this possibly insane girl. I'm giving her the benefit of the death, something I damned Benat for doing with his alliance members. They'll kill you when you turn around! Benat, damn it. Get away from them. I'd almost lost my voice that first day, roaring at the television as I realized what a fool my brother was. Now, I'm the fool, something I swore I'd never be again. Perhaps it's a family thing.

"I can understand that," I reply, because I know exactly how it is when you just can't go home. Those days, when you're running from those with your blood in their veins, are some of the hardest. After the Games ended, everyone kind of had those days. Mine? Well, I guess it was kind of today.
As I listen to the girl explain why she hadn't run like the rest of us, I know it's a reason close to my own. Her family is not crying for a deceased son and brother; they are wailing for food, for nourishment. There are some of those families deeper into the interior of District 11, with their plentiful children and scarce meals. I'd bet she belongs to one like that, which means she's suffering in a similar way that I am. My sorrow eats me alive, while her starving stomach devours itself. It's alike, but not the same.

She asks me why I didn't keep running. I know what she means, but my mind supplies answers for the wrong question. I'm remembering my encounter with Sampson the other night, when I'd chosen to stay and collect my brother from the river, instead of continuing to run. Why hadn't I kept going? I try to find the words. "There was a girl walking and I ran into her. By then, I was already soaked so it wasn't worth wasting the energy anymore," I'm laughing a little when I answer because I think I'm pretty funny. Even if Benat was the funny one, I still try sometimes.

My face brightens for a moment as my lips pull up in a smile and I shake my hair free of water. "I'm Deval," I'm inclined to introduce myself so I can learn her name. You did what I wanted. You left them behind, that Magpie and the one from 9. They still killed you. How? The remembered words burst in my mind, warning me of what happens to those who trust. Benat hadn't been so much as betrayed, simply found again and cut down by those who had once fought at his side. But to me? It was all betrayal when it come to my big brother's death. "Deval Izar," I repeat, adding my last name to let the girl finally know that I didn't keep running because of the same reason she didn't. Going home is too much for me sometimes; Benat still lives there, haunting me.

The feeling of rain on my skin makes me cold all over again. I had almost been dry beneath the alleyway and the warmth I had felt beside Asha has been carried away by the fresh droplets of rain pouring across my skin. My hands are shaking as I look over the boy who has fallen. His arm is awkwardly bent beneath him and I can't help but think he looks like a corpse in the rain. With the rain soaking up all the warmth from his body, his skin is cold to the touch. It reminds me of the Games and strikes a new fear in my heart.

Asha has followed me back out into the rain and lurks behind me. I'm glad she's there, but I feel rather guilty making her get drenched all over again. Occupied with checking out the injured guy on the ground, I don't realize how close she is until she barely touches my back. It's comforting, in a way, but also puts me on edge. If she's like the Magpie or Ivy Soren, she could take her chance with my back exposed. "Don't worry," I try to act like I have any handle on the situation, "You'll be fine."

Trying my best to assess the situation, I'm still looking over the stranger when he suddenly begins to convulse. He yells abruptly and I jump back. Instinctively, I turn my back to the stranger and wrap my arms protectively around Asha. My heart beats madly in my chest and I wonder what kind of mess I've gotten myself into. The stranger's phase causes his arm to connect painfully with a nearby wall. I am completely out of my league, as I have basically no medical knowledge. Whatever is wrong with this kid is terrifyingly foreign. There's something seriously wrong and a way to help his is beyond me. "It's ok," I whisper (more to reassure myself than anything) into Asha's hair as I hold her, still scared that the stranger's episode is dangerous.