Maggie Blackmore {D2/FIN}

Maggie Blackmore {D2/FIN} May 3, 2014 13:23:17 GMT -5

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Post by Deleted on May 3, 2014 13:23:17 GMT -5

W E C A N L I G H T U P T H E S K Y

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M A G G I E B L A C K M O R E
DISTRICT2 | SIXTEEN | FEMALE

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From looks to personality, Abbie and I have always been what one might call “polar opposites.” Whether one is comparing our appearances or our personalities, it’s hard to find things that are similar. Her dark hair falls straight over her shoulders, surrounding her with an air of night, while my blonde hair curls around my fingers, radiating like the sun at high noon. Her eyes are vibrantly blue, like the distant waters off the coast of district four, somewhere my feet have not touched. However, my eyes are the dullness that sits over the world in the early hours of morning, still blue, just not as piercing as hers. I would say the only way we come close to being similar is in the height at which we stand, even though she stands a good two to three inches over my rather short 5’3 frame.

Her voice is firm and unfaltering, every letter produced with sharpness matched only by the knife at her side, but mine sinks back, more of a rambled whisper rather than something of prominence. That’s why I only spoke when she was done speaking herself, because I knew that I could never be heard above the static that fills her head and the surrounding air. She only listens when she knows she’s hit a dead end, and that’s when I my voice becomes audible enough for her tastes. A suggestion, a strategy to get us out of whatever trouble she’s so readily led us into. It’s a pattern that we willingly repeat, her leading us in, and my leading us out.

It took me a while to realize that she always came to me with the intention of us doing something that we shouldn’t. She would push open the dark, oak door that led to the spacious room we shared, and sit down opposite from me, waiting a moment before starting to speak so that I could finish the page of the book I was reading. My delicate fingers would pull the fabric bookmark back into its place and closing the cover before bringing my eyes up to meet hers. It soon led to a clash of “we shouldn’t.” and “but who’s going to stop us?” my voice exclaiming the former and her voice the latter. Eventually I would agree, if only to make sure she didn’t get herself killed in the process. Her bright eyes would light up with excitement, and before I could let out any more protests she would pull me out the door and into the hall, where our demeanors would settle to an inconspicuous calm that helped us to pass unnoticed out of the front door and out into the world that Abbie was so determined to conquer. She ruled with an iron fist, while I set my nose to the rulebook, fingers tracing over the words that held the world in check.

“And really, if you think about it, the way that the this star lines up with--”

“Maggie, just shut up.” My words immediately draw to an abrupt halt as Abbie rolls her eyes and turns over, unamused by the knowledge I’m only interested in showing to her. As her breathing evens out to the intervals of sleeping, I point up to the star and begin to whisper to myself, pretending to speak to an audience that would actually listen. I smile as my fingers connect star to star, forming the constellation that has so entrapped me within its boundaries.

“So that’s why, if you pay attention, you can see the importance that falls within the stars and the seemingly limitless boundaries that they set.” With the close of my sentence I pull the covers up to my chin and cast one last look up at the night sky and shut my eyes. My thoughts are drowned out in the wind and the rhythmic breathing of the one beside me. Abbie may not have been listening, but the world was.

It wasn’t only on one occasion that Abbie had very plainly just told me to be quiet. She never wanted my explanations, even though I was determined to give them. I felt that what I had to say was something of importance, and I’ll be damned if one pushy person is going to stop me from speaking my mind. Especially if that person is someone in my family. People of prominence, those that stand at the head of companies and things of the sort, they won’t be bothered with me until I stand among them, and trust me, that’s where I plan on standing at some point. Not that I’m a huge fan of my family, but being able to tag a name of importance behind my own must be some advantage in a world that’s only made of ladders and those climbing them.

My Aunt would always say that my choice of words came from my mother, but I had never really known her well enough to realize if this was true or not. I honestly believe that it was just my Aunt’s way of saying that I was too verbose, and that I would get my point across better if I just cut to the chase. I would respond by telling her that the idea was just absurd, and my thoughts would ramble off into something completely off topic until I realized her point and slowly lowered my voice until it dwindled off mid-sentence. She would watch as I turned in upon myself in confusion and would shoot me a smile before walking out of the room.

I learned from an early age that even though two people’s motives may not match, the same journey can lead them in a similar direction. The motives of my sisters, Hurricane and Pyrope, were not the same as the ones I proposed. Hurricane was a mess within herself, threatening to collapse with every wobbling step she attempted to take. We never paid much attention to each other, and that was something I wasn’t going to complain about. I found her strange, different from what I understood a triplet to be. Pyrope, on the other hand, was a mystery wound so tightly that I never even bothered to attempt and deduce it. I found myself a little closer to her than I did Hurricane, but that doesn’t mean much. The absence of our parents caused a rift to form between us, all three of us dwindling off to our own corners of fantasy limited only by the boundaries our family set.

As soon as our mother’s presence fell short for the last time, we were ushered through the grand doors of our Aunt’s home. It was there that we truly joined the chaos, fully understanding what our mother had meant when she whispered “the craze of the Blackmore’s” to our father. The three of us had been separated, and as I was shown to the room that I would now be calling my own, I was grateful to find someone other than my sisters sitting behind the door. Abbie, as she plainly introduced herself, not even taking her eyes off the knife she was sharpening. However, she must have caught my look of confusion, as she handed the knife to me, saying it was a “welcoming present.” I stared at it for a moment, its wooden handle smooth to the touch. I then reached back into one of my bags and pulled out an older book, one with a worn cover and torn pages, sticking it out towards her. Hesitantly, she took it, thumbing through it briefly before asking: “Do you get how welcome gifts work?” I shrugged and set my things down on the bed opposite from her and watched as she twiddled her thumbs for a moment before abruptly standing up and walking towards the door.

She didn’t have to ask me if I would follow, for she somehow knew that the second she made a move, I would be right behind her. We walked in silence for a moment, the only noise to be heard being the off-sync steps that we took. Past that point I realized everything we would ever be would be different. She would consistently lead me into a situation I would not get myself into otherwise, yet I never told her no. The things we did weren’t horrible, but they certainly weren’t what would be considered the actions of a model child. However, that was something Abbie aspired to be, so it never bothered her. I, on the other hand, constantly struggled with the decision of keeping my record straight, or following her into just another adventure. I was quick to erase any marks made against me, resulting in a report that was smudged by my fingers alone. I never stopped following her, though, and soon we became inseparable, separated only by the motives that drove us.

{o t h e r}
Maggie Blackmore
Age: 16
District 2
Gender: Female
Face Claim: Paulina Knebel
Codeword: oDair
Words: 483 + 447 + 553 = 1,483
The Big Bang-- Katy Tiz

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