Masters of War (Baptist Jay)
Feb 3, 2014 12:13:42 GMT -5
Post by jayjayjr on Feb 3, 2014 12:13:42 GMT -5
It was a strange feeling. It was conflicting but it wasnt anything new. Every year, it was exactly the same. Bran would stand there feeling nothing but fear and dread. He would be so afraid of hearing his name and so certain that wouldn't last five seconds in there but then soon enough.. Or perhaps not soon enough, the names would be drawn. It always seemed to feel like an eternity. Just standing there, patiently waiting when your heart's threatening to beat its way out of your chest. It'd be a quicker death than some of what he had seen in the past games.
Of course that was all only temporary. After that, it would be relief but not pure relief. Not the kind you would cling to because it felt so good and safe. No, this was a different kind of relief. It was the kind that made you feel guilty and sick to your stomach because it was at someone else's expense. Bran always felt bad about it. He couldn't help but feel empathy and guilt that someone else would probably die.
It was normal though, wasn't it? Bran glanced up and down his row, looking at the faces, trying to figure out if anyone felt the way he did. It wasn't his fault that someone else's name was drawn but he still felt horrible about it. He knew that chances of either of them surviving would be slim to none. He knew the odd and they sure as hell weren't in most people's faours.
He stayed quiet as some of the parents came forward, finding their children. His own family got to him quickly enough, all relieved that he would last another year. He spoke to his mother for a moment before they had to leave the square. Bran asked if he could stay behind, wanting to see a few of his friends, happy that they weren't called up to that stage.
They left him there, knowing that he wasn't the type to stay out too long. Bran took the time to look around. Half the people were gone but the other half seemed to linger. He stood there, quite still as he watched the crowd. He wasn't sure what he was looking for. It was just that feeling of being out there.
Of course that was all only temporary. After that, it would be relief but not pure relief. Not the kind you would cling to because it felt so good and safe. No, this was a different kind of relief. It was the kind that made you feel guilty and sick to your stomach because it was at someone else's expense. Bran always felt bad about it. He couldn't help but feel empathy and guilt that someone else would probably die.
It was normal though, wasn't it? Bran glanced up and down his row, looking at the faces, trying to figure out if anyone felt the way he did. It wasn't his fault that someone else's name was drawn but he still felt horrible about it. He knew that chances of either of them surviving would be slim to none. He knew the odd and they sure as hell weren't in most people's faours.
He stayed quiet as some of the parents came forward, finding their children. His own family got to him quickly enough, all relieved that he would last another year. He spoke to his mother for a moment before they had to leave the square. Bran asked if he could stay behind, wanting to see a few of his friends, happy that they weren't called up to that stage.
They left him there, knowing that he wasn't the type to stay out too long. Bran took the time to look around. Half the people were gone but the other half seemed to linger. He stood there, quite still as he watched the crowd. He wasn't sure what he was looking for. It was just that feeling of being out there.
