don't that make you happy [ persia & claire ] [ blitz ]

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don't that make you happy [ persia & claire ] [ blitz ] Jun 8, 2014 11:40:41 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Jun 8, 2014 11:40:41 GMT -5

Summer crept up on you this year, wrapping its arms around your neck and crushing your lungs with one squeeze. Pollen was abundant in the air at this time of year, and you wheezed a bit every time you went around the meadows. You squinted because your eyes were always itchy and watery. You couldn't wear the clothes you had been dying to wear all year because bugs would cling to your skin like magnets. There was no disputing the fact that this was not your season.
But did that stop you? No, for it seemed, no weapon formed against you would prosper. You could be put six feet under and you'd still be laughing, amongst the skulls and the grime and decay. It's a sort of funny thing, how you can carry the emotional baggage of everyone around you and manage not to throw out your back doing so. I applaud you for your strength, Miss Hunter. I really do. But sooner or later, you shall break, and I shall have to gather you up and glue you back together. Some parts of you will get lost, as some parts of you already have. Other people will find them buried in the ground, and try to make those parts their own. You have become a key factor in the reconstruction of other beings, Claire. Doesn't that make you proud?
Your hands tremble with anticipation. You grab the hem of your shirt to steady them, as you always do, and your knuckles turn a ghostly white. You were always the skittish type, Claire. Your mind is filled with symphonies, but your mouth produces the same staccato notes again and again. Your heart is weak, battered from years of abuse, yet you give your love to anyone who asks. Your head feels like knives are jabbing into it from every side and you hit it with your fists to make the pain stop. Your mind is a mess, but you just shove everything under the bed and hope no one sees.
But I have. I am the girl you see in the mirror, the voice you hear in your head everywhere you go. I am your friend, Claire. I am here for you.
Doesn't that make you happy, Claire?
Isn't that all you wanted?

ooc. i don't know what this is i'm sorry

Last Edit: Jun 20, 2014 8:57:48 GMT -5 by Deleted

freshy ☼
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don't that make you happy [ persia & claire ] [ blitz ] Jun 8, 2014 13:02:29 GMT -5

Post by freshy ☼ on Jun 8, 2014 13:02:29 GMT -5

[ooc] whoa hi [/ooc]

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p e r s i a j a y .
districtnine | 19 | female

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She was once told that tea was the cure for all ailments, but no matter how much she drank, the sinking feeling in her stomach would not fade. She sat on her knees by the window, elbows propped up on the windowsill. She stirred her tea with her finger, watching brown bubbles swirl around in the cup. After stirring for what seemed like an eternity, she picked up the teacup and put it to her lips. The tea was lukewarm, as usual. The taste was rather displeasing to Persia, but she drank it anyway. Alivia had stashed away all the liquor elsewhere, so raspberry tea was all she had.
Their relationship had been in stormy waters for months now. Ever since that night three years ago, Persia had felt empty. Alivia picked her up off the ground, kissed every inch of her body and gave her everything she had been craving for years. She would invite Persia into her room, wrap her arms around her body and whisper sweet promises into her ear. "I'm here for you." "I'd never hurt you on purpose." "You mean so much to me, Sia." That night, Persia truly felt loved.
Things took a sharp turn from there. In the morning, Persia said something Alivia did not like. She was pushed out of the bed, and banned from ever returning. Later on, Alivia joined Persia on the couch and wrapped her arms around her again. She pressed her chapped lips to Persia's ears and began to fill them with empty words. "I didn't mean what I said. Forgive me?" It went on like this for months. Screamed at. Ridiculed. Shoved. Slapped. Knives put to her throat. Glasses shattered. "I'm so sorry."
It took two years for Persia to realize, that this was not love. Being scolded for so much as glancing at other girls, yet having to watch as her Liv proclaimed her love for others. Being accused of lying, yet being told she was crazy for reminding Alivia of the wrongs committed against her. This was not love. This was torture.
"Don't I make you happy?" She wanted Alivia off of her. She wanted her to let go of her chin, stop forcing her to meet her eyes. "Don't you love me?"
Persia held her tongue, which only made the other girl angrier. Alivia's nails were digging into her face now, and veins bulged out of her neck. "Tell me you love me!"
Persia's heart beat faster, and she fought back tears. She bit into her cheek as Alivia shook her, and the metallic taste of blood flooded her mouth. "I can't... You told me not to lie to you."
She was thrown against the wall, and the sound of breaking glass reached her ears. She had crushed the teacup in her hand, and the pieces cut her skin. Tea dripped down her arms and all over her clothes, and left a brown stain on the carpet. Her entire body shook, and she got up from the window and hurried to the bathroom. She quickly turned on the faucet, smearing blood on the handle. Persia ran her hands under the water, picking pieces of porcelain out of her calloused skin.
"It's alright, Persia," she whispered. "She can't hurt you anymore."
Four months ago, she had packed her things and left in the middle of the night. An elderly woman had been kind enough to offer shelter on the other side of the district. The small cottage was close to her family's home, and far away from Alivia. She was safe. She should be happy. She could reconcile with her family, and maybe make some friends.
She could start anew here.
That was something to be happy about.
Though as she made her way to the town square, Persia couldn't help but feel anxious. Anyone here could be linked back to Alivia. Anyone here could drag her back to the person she could run from.
Anyone here could be a threat.
And that was unsettling.

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© chelsey

xxx

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don't that make you happy [ persia & claire ] [ blitz ] Jun 8, 2014 18:59:10 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Jun 8, 2014 18:59:10 GMT -5

You sit on a bench in the square, your nose in a book. This is one of your favorites, but you can't fully enjoy it. The noise of the square disturbs you, and the wind stirs the pages. Your mind travels outside of the world you are trying to get lost in. The words on the page are suddenly written in a foreign language, and you find yourself going back and re-reading parts you once knew by heart. A sigh of defeat escapes your lips, and you close the book. You are not in the mood to read.
You set the book down beneath your feet and take in the scenery. Wildflowers peek out from every crack in the sidewalk, swaying in the breeze. Children move past in blurs, playing tag and hide and seek and other games of the sort. People emerge from the pretty shops on the corner of the street, some emptyhanded and others with arms drooping under the weight of their shopping bags. It's been a while since you've taken the time to admire the beauty of your district, Claire. Gray is totally in this year. Doesn't it make you happy to see your neighbors enjoying themselves? You should be happy.
Smile, darling. Frowns are unattractive. (The corners of your mouth turn up. A man walking by smiles and nods.) How adorable.
A flash of red catches your eye. You turn and take notice of the girl entering the square. She looks to be shorter than you. You take a particular interest in this girl. She has features strikingly similar to that of a person you've met before. She's a Jay. The Jay family was rather well-known; they had a large population of children, two of which had been lost to the Hunger Games. How unfortunate. To see your own kin put six feet under, sometimes without all their parts intact. It would be a horrible thing to die. You imagine yourself now, laying on the cold, hard ground. A hovercraft descends upon you, scooping you up into its bony arms. You wanted to die on your own terms, not at the hands of a selfish teenager who could've been your best friend. (Isn't that why it's better to be alone?)
All ideas of approaching the girl faded from your mind. It was better to be alone. You'd be happier that way. Right?

freshy ☼
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don't that make you happy [ persia & claire ] [ blitz ] Jun 11, 2014 14:37:15 GMT -5

Post by freshy ☼ on Jun 11, 2014 14:37:15 GMT -5

xxx

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p e r s i a j a y .
districtnine | 19 | female

_______________________________________________________

The moment she entered the square, she began to feel as if she were being watched. Her throat began to close up, and she anxiously looked around for Alivia or any of her acquaintances. There was no sign of them, and she slowly began to relax. Look at you, you're acting like a scared little kitten. Time to unsheathe your claws, darling.
Persia lifted her chin, narrowing her eyes in a glare. She tossed her braid over her shoulder and firmly clasped her hands behind her back. The bandages on her hand were uncomfortable, and she scratched at her skin until it was on fire. She drew in a deep breath, and then released. Slowly, she began to take stiff, mechanical steps forward, eyes fixed on nothing. She would not give anyone the time of day. Not today.
Her stomach growled, and she looked around at the various run-down shops. Maybe she had enough in her pocket to grab some sweet bread.
Persia's eyes slid over to one of the benches in the center of the square. There was a girl sitting there, and she was looking directly at Persia. Her heart picked up the pace, and her hands began to tremble again. Could that be...? She set her jaw and slowly walked over to the girl. "Can I help you find something, or are you just looking?" she snapped.

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don't that make you happy [ persia & claire ] [ blitz ] Jun 20, 2014 8:56:22 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Jun 20, 2014 8:56:22 GMT -5

You can't help but be surprised when the girl starts to approach you. She holds her head high, eyes sharp as glass. The way she sets her jaw tells you she seems annoyed in having to engage with you, and you feel your throat close up. Within seconds you learn that her mouth is a rough one, brandishing daggers and preparing to stab right through your heart. She seems to have caught you staring. (It hadn't occurred to you until now that the Jays might not have appreciated being watched as if they were fresh out of the circus.)
"I-I didn't mean to stare," you say, eyes traveling everywhere except for her face. You weren't very fond of eye contact. Eyes gave away everything. When you met someone's eyes, you made a little room for them inside your heart and handed all your trust over to them. The last thing you wanted was for this girl to know you were afraid of her. Although, she's probably figured it out already. (Your voice was rather high-pitched and it wavered. A lot. Your hands clutched the edge of the bench tightly, as if it were the only thing keeping you grounded, if you let go, you might float away into the sky. You seem to wish you would.)
I can understand why you would be intimidated by the girl. She's got something you don't have; a bite. Sharpen your teeth every once in a while and maybe you wouldn't be so antisocial.