lo-fi children ✺ finn/jael, jb blitz

fionnbharr stoddard

In all honesty, I completely forgot the meeting period after the reapings. I was expecting more of a rush from the square - reeking slightly less of sweat now after I took my place - to the capital's train, but instead I was shoved into the justice building, into a room the size of my bedroom, filled with the sound of my little skipping heartbeat and books up the sides. Through the few seconds of transition time from off that stage to into this room, I started feeling a lot less confident in what was going on because holy butts, I'm a tribute now. Me, Fionnbharr Finn Stoddard. And, despite how cocky I felt a couple seconds before, I was not as whole as I thought I was.

For a hot second the room was pretty silent, hollow, with just my-eavesdropping-self in it, listening with my ear at the door crack's to the marching feet outside. All in all, I felt more like a prisoner than a saviour, like putting myself was against Karma's will - that volunteering was wrong. Cha was in the room over from me, the girl who volunteered like me - err, that I volunteered like. We were both volunteers, me and Cha, so maybe she was just as good as I. Or we were both condemned to the same fate, and I pray not.

I didn't hear much movement past the sound of peacekeeper's and their heavy boots: no bodies entering Cha's room, no bodies entering my room. Deep down, I was wanted to yell out to see if I could visit with her; when I first took my place on the stage I said nothing to her, didn't even bother to look over at her. I kept my eyes on purely Jael and the crowd. It felt rude, and considering I just sold my soul, I might as well bother trying to clean my mistakes while I still can't. I knew I'd be shot down if I tried though, so I backed away from the door and onto the tiny love seat type thing.

The only other 'body' in the room was this tiny bobble head on the desk, with you know, big eyes, a fat face, the likes. "Do you think," I say at the bobble head, I know it won't respond - I'm not loony yet - but it's better than listening to the crescendo and decrescendo of my heart. My hand bops the helmet of the tiny peacekeeper, "the higher districts have nicer rooms than this?"

No response, I cross my legs.

"I mean, it's not that this one is ya know, bad, it's just like, do you think they have nicer, bigger books, or comfier seats? Maybe their's has food or something, I don't know, possibly some snazzy windows and a view. Not like our view, you know, factories and the constant city scene, but like an actual view, with beaches, and cliffs, and fields. Yeah," I drone on, before laying on my back with my head on the arm rest, "fields."

"I'd like that a lot more than this," pointing at the brick wall positioned outside my window. I bet Cha's view doesn't suck as much.

Throughout the wait, I remain still on the couch, with my head still on the armrest, waiting. Passing a minute or two with attempting to position the peacekeeper's plastic boots onto my forehead flat, with my legs crossed across the second armrest. I expected somebody already, by the time I hear somebody enter a room near mine - most likely Cha's in all honesty - Jael, Sunny, even big ole 'M if anything. Somebody. I was beginning to miss the way Sunny's hair smelled, and the way Matilda's breath always smelled weirdly of sriracha sauce.

I already felt homesick, even just a few feet away.