{ r a t h e r b e } ✺ finn/cha, train blitz
Sept 23, 2014 21:51:13 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Sept 23, 2014 21:51:13 GMT -5
fionnbharr stoddard.
Despite the fact that my fate rests in her and her fate rests in me, I've never said a word to Cha.
When I volunteered I looked over a lot, too much in all honesty, but I guess making up for my mistakes is what growing is all about; I overlooked the fact of the justice building, I overlooked all of the district's eyes on me, I overlooked the fact that I wouldn't be alone. I overlooked the fact that I would leave Jael behind, and out of all I've learned in the past couple of hours, that's what scares me the most. In fifteen years, I've always had him by my side and he's always had me - donk, even the three years before me, he always had me. I swear to swear.
Leaving him there in that Justice Building - err, him leaving me there - made me realize a couple things: first off, he's not gonna be here to hold my hand through that arena. I wouldn't want him to either, at least not with those hairy hands. But as I take my step onto that train behind Cha, I miss his wet-dog smell a little more. Secondly, anything gone unsaid will remain exactly how is, unsaid. Now, I've never been exactly untalkative, my mother pointed that out often, but with only a couple weeks with these tributes I'll never get everything off my chest.
So, as I take my seat near the back window with one leg folded between the other and the red cushions, that I'll try my hardest to become the first person avoxed because they wouldn't shut up. Except with Cha, I don't even have a clue on where to start, so my voice jumps itself to stop myself hoping to the best of my abilities of vernacular that she'll catch something worth while out of my rambling. What do I even know about this girl?
Her name is "Cha," and she's from "district eight," and "she's at least older than me," and she's a "a volunteer." And at this point I realized the words floating from under my breath as I checked them off, "like me." She's a volunteer, like me and like Owen Bowers-Fox and Hope Woodards.
And without a doubt, one of us will make the train ride home; my paper airplane heart fell heavy in my district overalls.
How heavy is your heart, miss.