I Measure Every Grief // [DW vs. MR Day 4]

Time has passed so slowly in the arena, each day dragging on longer than we ever expected. I had once hoped that death would just take me quickly, but I supposed that this was eternity's last laugh at my expense. It was going to push the day I bled out all over this too-pure snow backwards until I had been reduced to nothing but ashes and cracked facades. Did these silly, little girls boys still trust me now that I was caked in the blood of our shared-enemies? I was carrying my souvenirs without little regard for the sanity of others, they were my trophies after all. They were rightfully mine, I had earned them.

Mantel's head stares with open eyes, the pits of his own heart torn from him the minute the knife entered his putty limbs. Could breath and life be transferred? Did his slaughter mean I could live another day? It seemed almost too good to be true. I had stolen their desires, as they stole my well-earned peace. (but was it really peace and living you were doing in District Two, Beatrice? Were you really ever happy there?) My feather-light thoughts were correct in assuming the intentions of my darkening heart. I was not happy here, but I could never be happy there either.

Screw this. I hated every single person in this world, just like I loathed everyone back home. Nobody had ever cared for me. (Is that really true, Beatrice? Didn't your brother love you?) No. No. No. No. No! He didn't deserve any love because he had forgotten me here. I was doomed to die, just like him, and it was all his fault. No.

"Forgive me, Scoff. You've only been the victim to rage that perhaps you didn't deserve." I whisper to him late at night, when nobody else is listening, too distracted by the comforting words they thought their long days had warranted. (Why didn't anyone ever comfort me? I was just as lost as they were.) Was little Mantel really my only friend here, was he the only one I could whisper my secrets to without fear or judgement or betrayal?

God I am such a deceptive, hypocritical whore. I was lending out my emotions like this was a fair and they were the prize to some demented-ring toss. Nobody respected me here, I could feel their gaze bore into my soul from miles away. They were all just waiting for the right moment to kill me. I was the retribution to every will-ill upon them.

Screw them all. I resented the children that the gods had placed me with. I would defend their every attempt of revenge and honor with my own, two-faced counter blows. Sticky could go fall on a sword for all the shits I didn't give about him. Storm should have stayed duct-taped to that Beanstalk. Jim should have been eaten alive by the hellcat he now wore around his shoulders. I hated him, I hated all of them.

"I'll never hate you, Scoff. You've escaped my wrath, haven't you?" I ask the boy gently, my fingers playing into his hair once more as I force myself to look into his lifeless eyes. "You're at peace, aren't you, buddy? Do you like it there? I feel like you've stolen my death, little girl, but I guess the big-bad-wolf can wait another day to be thrown into the furnace. Don't worry, I'll join you in hell soon enough, eh?" My voice cracks under the pressure and for a minute I can feel scorching tears threaten my eyes with their unforgiving passion. No, I refuse to be the weak one here.

Jim approaches me with great caution, as if I'm disfigured and he's not sure how to speak to me, I'm so ugly. What did the little brat see in me anyway? I was nothing but dust and venom, the creature that never should have been born but was engineered specifically to steal their lives. (I am such a great muttation, you see.) I am a bad person, Jim. Stay away. I wanted to warn him before he stepped into my trap and was executed like the rest of them. Yet something made me hold my tongue as he spoke his hesitant words in his dinky, frightened voice. Come on Jamie, I won't bite... Hard.

"Hey Beatrice. I've come to fulfill that deal we made." Deal, what deal? I racked my brain but the past three days were nothing but a blur. How did we get here again? He walks towards me with a decisive look gleaming in his two, round eyes. No, no, no. This could not be happening. Not here.

"What do you think you're doing, McCoy?" I protest, but it's too late and in a minute his stupid, hideous lips are pressing into mine with the sweetest, most putrid touch imaginable. Who was I again? The evil witch or the innocent, young girl? Trapped inside my mind (...his mind?) I am drowning, falling into the ruse of this little boy (he's not that little, Beatrice. He is your age after all.)

Still I didn't ask for this. I didn't want to feel anything for anyone, my fingers were itching to fulfill the hatred my lips had so boldly declared. Come on, Beatrice, get your shit together.

I forgot about what it would mean to be kissed just because I wanted it and instead occupied myself with shoving against his body as hard as my shaking arms would allow. Yet bloody knuckles are only met with empty air, the coward too afraid to face the anger that surely was simmering beneath my cracked surface. (Was I really mad at this good-intentioned boy? Probably not.)

"SIM JAMIE JIMMY JIM MCCOUGAR MCCOY!" I screech loudly, my hands grabbing at my scruffy hair with my desperation for revenge. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?" I try to leapt towards him, my fingers already reaching towards my knife but something stops me as I take in the shocked expression caked upon his face. "I OUGHT TO --" My shrill voice began, but I caught them in my throat before I could finish whatever threat I wanted to set upon him. "YOU DIDN'T PLAN THAT, DID YOU? OH, HOW VERY FUNNY. MESS WITH THE ONLY REAL GIRL IN YOUR GROUP. HAHAHAHA. MY SIDES ARE HURTING FROM LAUGHING SO MUCH."

I throw my weapons on the ground before him, my green eyes filling with hot liquid once again. Screw them, screw them, screw them. How could he do this to me, after everything I've done for him? I hope he died the most horrible death. I hope I got to kill him myself. My knees crumple and I find myself on the ground, my face buried within my hands as I try to wipe away the careless, gentle touch of his uninvited lips. (Help me, Cassius. Keep me away from this demon.) Help me, help me, help me.

Sobs rack my body, and I know that I am only the fragile fourteen year old I have tried so intensively to deny. What would Iago think of me now that he knew I had the capacity to cry? (Oh shut it, Beatrice. He let you cry on him in the training center, didn't he?) I am such a failure. My parents would be disappointed to see me show my uncertainty in such a vulnerable way.

"Get. Out. Of. My. Sight." My voice is the staccato in the anthem. I was losing every illusion they had thought of me, I was only their little crybaby. They should be looking after me. Why had I spent so much time taking care of their mistakes when I was the most broken doll of all? Screw them. I hated everything about them. Didn't I? "Is that correct, Mama? Are you proud of me now?"

Screw Jim and his soothing lips. Screw Storm and his need to go home. Screw Sticky and his gallant soul. Screw Mantel and his unresponsive stare. Screw Siana. Screw Kyle. Screw Darren. Screw Iago and Matilde and Emery and Ewe. Screw Saffron, Cerise, and Lucy. Screw Vinnie. Screw Mama and Papa. Screw Cassius.

I want to kill them. I was bred to kill them. They needed to die, all of them, and it was my blade that needed to slice through each of their necks.

Screw. This. I grab my weapons again and stomp away from the little group. So much for keeping up the little charade of friendliness. I hope they got attacked by mutts while I went to sleep. I hoped they died tonight so I wouldn't have to deal with their smelly faces anymore.

The anthem drowns out my crying and screaming, my grown up temper-tantrum (but was I really as grown up as I hoped?). Faces flash across the sky as they do every night. Two of our weakest are dead tonight. Mantel, of course, I stabbed him myself. And scrawny Brendon from District 12. Who rivaled me in low training scores. What did he do to meet the reaper tonight?

My body falls into a ball on the ground and I watch the faces fly away with tear-stroked cheeks. I'm such a disappointment, they ought to cut me open right here and now, I was that worthless.

(Oh quit your crying, you drama queen). My gut-feeling was right. Nobody wanted to see a girl cry on television. They wanted to see the blood and guts that she could spill, (I had proved them enough already, right?)

The night passes slowly and soon I am reduced to a fitful sleep, the memories of kisses past haunting my nightmares.

"What do we have here? A lost sparrow wandering off from her nest to hide among the thorns? How lucky am I to discover you, eh, princess?" An obscured figure steps into view and once again I am thrown haphazardly on grimy pavement in a dark alley. No, I don't want to see this again. Please, anything but this. The devil speaks again, his words creeping into my bones with blinding deception. "I'm here to rescue you, my lovely, oh lovely Beatrice. It's not safe for a frail, mourning woman like yourself to be alone in a dark, scary alleyway such as this one."

Fuck you. I hope you go die in a hole, you scoundrel. I hope you get tortured for what you did to me. "Fuck off, asshole." What a dirty mouth for somebody so young. I was always a little twisted, wasn't I?

"My, oh my, a lady with an attitude! That would never pass in a court, now would it? I suppose the brave knight ought to correct the misspoken lady, don't you think? It would be a disaster for one with a character such as yours to be seen in public without the correction of the gentle knight." He's leaning in now, just like Jim, he was stealing my precious breath away with every square inch.

Somebody help me. Please. Anyone.

"What do you think you're doing?" Those same words echo off in entirely different circumstances. Yet this man before me (and he was indeed a man) had no intention of running away. He only meant to hurt me. I was his trophy. His shining prize that he would do anything to conquer. Oh, are you going to conquer me Jim, just like this man? Am I going to have to try to slay you too?

"Oh shut up, Beatrice, you'll enjoy this. It'll take your mind off things." I turn my head and breath heavily into the wall behind me, my fingers clawing at the ground in a futile attempt to escape. Get away from me. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. "Now that won't do, will it?" Hands play with my hair and suddenly my head is turning, turning, turning until it reaches his lips and he shoves a tongue down my throat. There is nothing sweet about this, nothing innocent, nothing pure. I am just his victim, his slave, and he has come to murder me. No, no, help me, Cassius, help me!

I bite the flesh between my teeth as hard as I can and before I can register anything he has pulled away and shoves his fingers to his lips. "You fucking bitch!" His voice snarls, and I can feel the bluffing tears fall harshly on my cheeks. His hands pull back and he hits me, hard. Then he's on top of me, and this time there is no savior for me to murder. I succumb to every cruel desire he holds within his blackened heart. I am his little toy, I become his property.

NO. I can feel every fiber of my body screaming as this monster steals my very dignity. I am the child with the lollipop, and he is the towering bully with no regrets. He's going to kill me and there is nothing I can do about it.

NO. Suddenly my hands find a knife and despite the fact that he has stripped me of everything that would every make me honest, virtuous Bea, he turns me into the guilty, immoral, stained piece-of-shit I am today.

NO! My fingers tighten their grip on the blade within them and instead of letting him control me I shove the knife into his back and drag it with every deformed intention within my body. I want him to die, and I don't want to die with him.

His body collapses limp upon mine, everything about him spent. I push him off and crawl onto my knees.

"I'm going to paint the streets red with your blood tonight," I whisper, almost lovingly, my dagger stroking his chest with the utmost care and attention. "I'm going to make you pay for what you did to me." And then I strike.

I slash his chest, his neck, his arms, his legs, his feet, his hands, his head, his ears, his nose, his lips, his tongue, his heart, his soul, his betrayal.

The demon has been reduced to pieces beneath my blade and once again I am nothing but alone.

"I told you. I'm worthless. All I can do is take lives and give nothing. Nothing but myself." I whisper to this dream world. I am nothing but shit to them, waiting for them to murder me. Would Jim murder me? Iago?

"Beatrice." A voice calls out. I look up, almost unashamed from my torn dress and bloody fingers. "Beatrice, you can do this." It's a face I thought I'd never see again. I didn't want to see it anymore.

"Go away." I snarl and turn away from him, but his bitter, cigarette smelling aurora overwhelms me. Of course he's not going to listen to me right now.

Strong arms wrap around me and I fight back a heavy sob. This is not okay, this should not be happening. "I believe in you, Bea. I think you can do this, but you gotta stop caring and start doing. Do you want them to be disappointed in you again?" My lips do not answer him but my skull shakes no, no, no. Of course I don't want to hurt them anymore. I don't want to do anything anymore.

"Beatrice Birch... my little angel. I need you to do this, for me. Can you promise me that?" No, I can't promise you that. You didn't live up to your promises! "Come on Bea, answer me. I don't want you to die... not like me. I love you too much for that. Please, Bea. Show them who you are. Show them what you're capable of."

Arms leave me and instantly I find myself longing for their familiar warmth. He starts to walk away, he starts to abandon me.

"You can do this, Beatrice. You can win for me. Come on, darling. Kill them all."

Then he's gone, disappeared into the night. "NO! CASSIUS! COME BACK! I'm sorry, I'm sorry for failing you. I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry I'm going to die..." But he has already left me. I am just shouting to empty air.

"I'm sorry I failed. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry..."

The alleyway fades to black, and I can feel myself lurch to consciousness.

S   T   I   C   K   Y
 W A S H I N G T O N

I think back to last night and the things Beatrice said to me. ""WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?" " I remember being scared when I heard those words. Hearing her shout like that terrified me so much. "I OUGHT TO --YOU DIDN'T PLAN THAT, DID YOU? OH, HOW VERY FUNNY. MESS WITH THE ONLY REAL GIRL IN YOUR GROUP. HAHAHAHA. MY SIDES ARE HURTING FROM LAUGHING SO MUCH." I can feel my heart stop. The pulsing feelings that my heart was pumping stopped cold. I didn't realize at the time how stupid I was to kiss her. Even if it had been on the cheek, she still probably would of laughed at me. Still would of torn my heart into a million tiny pieces then scattered them throughout the arena. I'm such a fucking idiot. This is why I should die. I'm going to tell them here and now that I will beg for death for what I just did. Bea, I'm so sorry for being such a dumbass. My attention is brought back to reality. Fighting all around me, but I barely pay attention. I attacked my district partner and so did Beatrice. I look at her with fire in my eyes not from anger, but from a determination to die. "Get. Out. Of. My. Sight." Don't worry Beatrice. I will be dead soon. That way you don't have to worry about me. "Beatrice. I was a fucking idiot for what I did last night. You want me out of your sight? Don't worry. I will kill myself here and now if that's your wish. Better yet. Do it yourself so you know I'm dead. Go on Bea. Do it!" I cant help the tears that escape my eyes or the venom from my words. I'm prepared to die.

I look to see that Storm suffered even more wounds. My brother couldn't catch a break. Without even looking, I know exactly the two who attacked him. Those bitches would pay for what they did to him. I don't know why I'm still feeling emotion. Bea shattered what was left of my ever decreasing heart. I shouldn't be feeling anything. This bond between me and Storm is strong. Stronger than steel. Stronger than life itself. Nothing will separate us. If he dies, I follow. If I die, well I'll kick his ass if he doesn't make it home. My face breaks out in a smile that I never thought possible until I notice Cerise severing Bea's ear. Anger floods my face. I look at Bea. She better see the anger in my face. I want her to know that I care about her. I don't care if she kills me or not. I will go to the grave knowing that I stayed true to my feelings. If she wants me to go away well that wont be long. I look at all three of my potential attackers with a glare that death itself would shy away from. I hope they notice that I mean business this time.

-Jim attacks Cerise-

[dice=200+11000]
11199 -- Shallow Cut on Right Thigh -- 3.5 damage