isaline sage ★ district two ★ complete
Dec 17, 2013 3:09:13 GMT -5
Post by florentine, d4b ❁ on Dec 17, 2013 3:09:13 GMT -5
[presto]
[/presto]
isaline sage
fifteen years old
female
district two
december 12th, 5:00pm
winter is here
and it tastes like soft footfalls on fresh snow
and smoke from the fire woven into bed linen
because the frost outside refuses to dry our sheets
nobody is in the streets
inside beckons, calling out to everybody
and so my window is an empty frame
i press my face to the glass
and the cold touches my cheek
but it's not sharp enough to truly feel
there is too much quiet all around me
and the world aches with a dull pain
that can only truly be called despair
father says i am a drama queen
i'd rather turn back the clock to when his voice
reached out to me through my visions
and called me insane
at least i was alive; now, i am lost
in a chest at the back of my wardrobe
there are a thousand pieces of paper
fragments of the life i left behind
and i have studied them countless times
searching for clues hidden in their typewriter words
how can i return to the world i lived in
before the doctor gave me pills
that stole it from me
december 14th, 7:00pm
tonight i drowned in the emptiness
the house was hollow; nobody was home
and i sat on the floor holding my head by my hair
blonde waves becoming the strings of a puppet
and i begged myself to see them again
but still i was blind, numb, yearning for a world
that they called sickness and i called health
i screamed, so loud i screamed
and nobody came
nothing grew bright again; the heavy blanket
called sanity
remained wrapped around me, holding me tight
"let me go"
i cried
"let me go back"
so i joined the rest of panem in haunting silence
until my father came home and called me down for tea
and i ate my soup without a word
because i've told him a thousand times before
"i just want you to be normal"
he told me
"i just want you to be happy"
he does not understand these are opposite thingssomebody help me
december 19th, 3:00pm
these days i spend a lot of time
thinking about how things used to be
before the hospital
and the normal
in the days when i lived with my real mama and papa
and my brother smiled a little more
those days i was free
and i did as i pleased
but then i felt the firm clasp
of his hands around my wrist
and my brother led me away
for the first time in my life, i had an instruction
run away
things were supposed to be better
first they were community homes
and paperwork with the word
'neglect' in bold
after that came our new home
the mama and papa we have now
and the rules
that never end
rigid and structured and so far from
the world i ran wild in
as a child
but i coped
i built my own world
made my own friends
had adventure after adventure
they played out before my eyes
bright and clear
once again, i was happy
but they told me it was wrong
and that my utopia existed only
within my head
that was okay with me
and yet the doctors shook their heads
and muttered words i couldn't hear
and snatched it from my grasp
now there is not enough of anything in the world
it is very nearly blank
and i sit in the corner of my uniform bedroom
(nothing is an inch out of place,
but this is not by my choosing)
and yearn for something i can't have back
december 21st, 7:00am
this morning
papa stands before me with three pills in his palm
and a glass of water in the other hand
'isaline, you know the rules'
i know them, he's right
my teeth ache but i keep my jaw clamped shut
his patience begins to fade
'do you want to be sick?'
i shake my head
'then take your medicine'
a tear rolls down my cheek, ruining my brave show
of defiance and valour
this is not my first attack on the law
and it wont be my last
'i don't want to take them today'
i gasp the words
his temple pulses
an hour later, i sit in front of the mirror
tugging golden curls into plaits
and cursing him, cursing everything
feeling the weight of those capsules in my stomach
dispersing sanity into my bloodstream through my cornflakes