Oh where do we begin? [Jordan & Saffron]

kousei ♚
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now and forever

Oh where do we begin? [Jordan & Saffron] Feb 16, 2015 7:08:31 GMT -5

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Post by kousei ♚ on Feb 16, 2015 7:08:31 GMT -5

J o r d a n S c o f f - R e y e

{Oh were do we begin?
The rubble or our sins?}

It's dark.

I hate it when it goes dark and I go to bed. When everyone goes to sleep and I'm left alone in my room with nothing but my thoughts - thoughts about him. I do my best to keep myself busy, focus on my training, focus on the food, focus on anything but him. But when I've got nothing to focus on, when it's just be in my solitary room it's as if his ghost watches over me or something. He slept in this bed, he sat in this room, he ate this food. The thought that what I do is mirroring him is more ominous than the thought of going into the arena.

And when I'm left with nothing but thoughts of him I begins raking my brain with questions. Did he cry? Did he face his fate bravely? Did he make any friends? Did he even remember me? I'd like to think he did, I'd like to think he remembered that I was back at home, waiting for his return back to District ten. But I think I'm wrong, that I'm fooling myself - that the name Jordan Scoff never even crossed his mind while he was here. I'd like to think I knew everything about him but to be honest I don't, the sad truth is that the only people who know anything about the sixty-fifth tribute are the people I refuse to talk to. Saffron and Mace.

I throw off my covers from my body, I can't sleep and I won't sleep. Not while he lingers in this very room that is. I bring my legs up to my chest and hold them here and let the memories of Mantel Scoff drown my brain.

I don't know how I long I sit there for but eventually I get up out of my bed, something makes me, like a robotic command - you need to get out of bed Jordan. I open my bedroom door and begin walking out. I can't stay there any more, not while that stranger lingers in there. I don't know where I wander to, I just wander anywhere, but I have to be careful not to wake anyone up - if I do they'll probably just send me to bed or something.

But before long I hear noises, thumping, footsteps getting closer. It can only be three people: Mace, Bree or Saffron. My eyes widen and my muscles tense, but I don't turn around to see who it is, I keep my back facing them but I when I speak it's loud enough for them to hear. "Who's there?"

✨ zozo.
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bloomtodeath

Oh where do we begin? [Jordan & Saffron] Feb 16, 2015 17:00:17 GMT -5

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Post by ✨ zozo. on Feb 16, 2015 17:00:17 GMT -5

"my body and mind are in a civil war
and i am comprised of contradictions and contractions,
constantly trying to shorten everything
in order for it to spill
out of my mouth at speed."

I can never sleep on these journeys. My ghosts begin to creep out of my memory and into my dreams, and then when I wake up the float behind me in the darkness, illuminating my path. Up and down the trains I walk - past sleeping figures behind closed doors and mystery compartments nobody is allowed to enter. I'm drawn to a place I both want to be and want to stay as far away from as possible. I can hear their names ringing in my ears with each step closer and closer. Kirk and Esme, Kirk and Esme, Kirk and Esme. I'm terrified to find their ghosts at the end of the carriage where we last left them. Where I last left them

(Not anymore, I tell myself. I'm not doing that any more.)

This morning, in Mace and I's strained conversation with these two damned souls, I wanted nothing more than to excuse myself from the room and slink back into the shadows, to stay silent and distant and safe. I could walk to the edge of this country and still see Mantel's eyes in the skull of the boy who walked up on the stage. I think the universe is mocking me. The universe or the Capitol. I'd bet on the latter. I'm not a little girl anymore but they keep sending me one, year after year, only to have her slaughtered. And now his ghost is back, although he's taller and skinnier - almost as if I were looking at Mantel had he lived instead of I - and I don't have to kill him. I just have to get him killed.

I wish Lucy would come back and visit me in my sleep, tell me what to do and who to turn to. I wish that I could talk to Mace as easily as I could when my mouth refused to open for anyone else. I wish that the little girl who crept into old houses and stole things for her box and had a little sister who still loved her could come back and inhabit my body for one more day. I wish-

"Who's there?"

I freeze.

I wish that the night could hide me, but he's probably already seen me and the voice isn't deep enough to belong to Mace.

"Me," I manage to spit out after an eternity. It seems I am back to small words and even smaller nights. "It's me."

You know, the one that tried to kill your brother.

[presto]

[/presto]

“and men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins.”

kousei ♚
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Oh where do we begin? [Jordan & Saffron] Feb 16, 2015 19:04:37 GMT -5

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Post by kousei ♚ on Feb 16, 2015 19:04:37 GMT -5

J o r d a n S c o f f - R e y e

{Oh were do we begin?
The rubble or our sins?}

The voice I hear doesn't please me one bit. It's obviously female but it doesn't sound anything like Bree's. That means it can only be one person. I close my eyes, take one deep breath and breathe out. I open my eyes again, hoping that I only imagined it, that the voice was all in my head and that when I turn around there will be no one. I slowly turn around and find what I wish for is nothing but a wish. There she stands, I'd recognise that reddish hair from a mile away - and that face, I'd never forget the face that came back instead of Mantel. The wrong tribute came home. And now I have to be with her, everyday until I go into that arena.

"Oh..." Is the only word that escapes my lips. I want to stare at the floor but I don,t I reluctantly stare in her eyes, but I don't want to look her in the eye, the eyes that watched him bleed out on that giant chain of mountains. I don't want to look into the eyes that still spilled tears as if she was really mourning for him on the day of his funeral - despite the fact they never even spoke to each other in that arena. She tried to kill him, someone else did, and she left. And that was that. Did they even speak before the arena? Did she even know I existed? I don't know what he could've done. I know nothing about the Sixty-Fifth Hunger Games tribute - only from what I saw through my tiny television screen.

It makes me angry that I'll never know anything about his last moments, who he was, who he became.

The only thing I'll remember are those words (you sicken me) and the sight of red smiles riddled on his body.

The only thing I can think about are the worms eating his flesh and his brittle bones trapped in that wooden coffin.

The wrong tribute came home...

It sickens me that the only one who would know remotely anything about what he became is the victor standing right in front of me.

But I'm too proud to ask, I'm too proud to ask that complex question because that's admitting she knows more about him than me. And something about that makes my stomach churn.

Instead I ask a simpler question, I don't swallow my pride just yet."What are you doing here?" Is what I ask instead.

Oh what do you know about him Saffron? You definitely know more than me, that's for sure. But I can't ask that. No, I won't ask that.

✨ zozo.
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bloomtodeath

Oh where do we begin? [Jordan & Saffron] Feb 17, 2015 6:11:29 GMT -5

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Post by ✨ zozo. on Feb 17, 2015 6:11:29 GMT -5

"my body and mind are in a civil war
and i am comprised of contradictions and contractions,
constantly trying to shorten everything
in order for it to spill
out of my mouth at speed."

"Oh..."

It's a lot more than I expected, and a lot less harsh since our last few conversations.

I know what he's thinking. I'm the girl that came back in his brother's place. I'm the girl that stood over his brother's dead body and said in broken, shaking words that took all I had to force out that I should be the one lying there. Looking back it made no difference, but a broken little girl does nothing but regret her ongoing existence when she's faced with ghosts that died in her place week after week after week. I would have screamed at Mantel if he had said those things about Paige. I'm sure she would have screamed at him if it were me in that grave, too.

"What are you doing here?"

I swore I wouldn't lie to them but the truth is too hard to admit. Would he believe me if I told him I was following his brother's ghost that's haunted me for 4 years? No. Would he believe me if I lied? I doubt it.

"I'm-"

Come on, I think, words.

"I'm just-"

I stop trying to tell the truth and take a different angle instead.

"Do you remember when Mantel threw up on my shoes?" I ask, staring out through a window into the starry sky. There might be a ghost of a smile on my lips but the shadows of the night hide it. "He kept apologizing all the way to the Capitol."

All I can give Jordan is the last of his brother's days. A truth I'm willing to tell, written in stone and in my skull.

From behind us, I swear I feel his ghost smile.

[presto]

[/presto]

Last Edit: Feb 17, 2015 6:12:16 GMT -5 by ✨ zozo.

“and men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins.”

kousei ♚
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Oh where do we begin? [Jordan & Saffron] Feb 17, 2015 20:19:14 GMT -5

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Post by kousei ♚ on Feb 17, 2015 20:19:14 GMT -5

J o r d a n S c o f f - R e y e

{Oh were do we begin?
The rubble or our sins?}

My simple but sharp question hangs in the air, as if words could linger in the air forever and ever. For moment there's no answer until she tries to answer my question. "I'm- I'm just-" She begins but can't seem to finish what she started - had this been a few years ago I may have actually found this funny, but now it only annoys me. Come out, out with it. Since when were words hard to sound out. I know the answer to that, it's a stupid question to ask, even to myself. Good thing I didn't say it out loud to my 'mentor'.

What she says instead completely throws me off.

"Do you remember when Mantel threw up on my shoes?" She asks. My eyes widen at the thought. 65th reaping day. I could never forget, I remember everything about that day - even the smallest detail to what time I woke up. I remember just walking up on stage Mantel turned as white as curdled milk and upchucked all over the dang stage - especially all over Saffron. I remember the District laughing and the name 'upchuck' surfacing within the District. I remember I got suspended from school for kicking someone in the face for dare using that name around me.

"How could I forget." Is how I reply.

"He kept apologizing all the way to the Capitol." She says.

That throws me off even more than the first question.

As if she can read my mind, as if she knows why I've been up this late.

And this time it's me that can barely get their words out. "Th-that s-sounds like him." I say, staring up at the sky as well - if there is a heaven (if he's up there) he's higher than the stars looking down on me. And if he were here he'd tell me to swallow my damn pride. I'd rather lose my pride and know everything about him - like a true brother should. "Did he do anything else? Other than apologise of course." I ask.

I finally ask the question that's been raking at my mind.

"Did he mention anything about me?" I ask, I let my question hang in the air for a bit before explaining myself further. "It's just that, I feel like I failed, I think he felt like I failed him - as a brother, to help him, protect him," I pause for a deep breath before continuing, "Did - did he say anything about that?"

Did I sicken him?

✨ zozo.
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bloomtodeath

Oh where do we begin? [Jordan & Saffron] Feb 18, 2015 18:56:22 GMT -5

Quote

Post by ✨ zozo. on Feb 18, 2015 18:56:22 GMT -5

"my body and mind are in a civil war
and i am comprised of contradictions and contractions,
constantly trying to shorten everything
in order for it to spill
out of my mouth at speed."

"Did he do anything else? Other than apologise of course."

I want to remember everything he said and did, but it's so hard to stretch back into those memories for a hundred different reasons.Still, I persist, grasping at everything in my mind that touches his memories. One thing I am certain of: "He was always so polite to everyone. Even when they weren't to him."

My face twists from strained to surprised, eyebrows darting up in wonder as I recall everything I can. "He got a... 4, for training. And he'd always look at his food like he was scared of it, but I think he was just worried he'd vomit again."

"Did he say anything about me?"

"Yes," (I think.) "I'm sure of it." (I have to be.)

"I feel like I failed, I think he felt like I failed him - as a brother, to help him, protect him."

Oh, Jordan. Not even blood can wield a shield stronger that the Capitol's sword.

"You can't protect anyone from these games," I confess. It's what I've been trying to tell Mace for weeks, months. But I am a realist and he, ever the kind and giving optimist, has hope. "You just can't. And even if they, or you, come home - there's nothing you can do."

I think of Paige, and how I shut myself away from her for weeks at a time. How she turned from my best friend to somebody who did nothing but scream and shout, and when I finally emerged from my silent, hidden world she did to me what I did to her: run away.

For the first time since I heard his name I don't want to run from Jordan at all.

[presto]

[/presto]

Last Edit: Feb 18, 2015 19:00:43 GMT -5 by ✨ zozo.

“and men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins.”

kousei ♚
Mentor

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Pronouns: He/Him/His
last seen May 7, 2022 17:23:18 GMT -5

now and forever

Oh where do we begin? [Jordan & Saffron] Feb 19, 2015 11:19:30 GMT -5

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Post by kousei ♚ on Feb 19, 2015 11:19:30 GMT -5

J o r d a n S c o f f - R e y e

{Oh were do we begin?
The rubble or our sins?}

He was always like a shadow, slinking into a corner and hoping the bullies didn't notice him; he was forgotten because he was forgettable. But not by me, I'd never forget. Even when his life depended on it he was just... forgotten as soon as the next games rolled around. But it's comforting that Saffron didn't forget (that she'll never forget); it's almost like her remembering shines a giant beam of light on the whole situation. I'll remember, I'll bring his memory with me to my gory grave. And maybe Saffron will remember me, just like she remembers Mantel.

"You can't protect anyone from these games,"

The icy truth is like a punch to the gut, it makes my eyes widen at the realisation. Alone, he was alone from the start, I'm alone. Saffron just lays the truth down straight; no matter how much I like it it's the truth. The truth always hurt. "You just can't. And even if they, or you, come home - there's nothing you can do."

More truth hits me straight in the gut. I'd always hoped that Mantel would come out of there alive. Somehow, in some upside down way, that my brother who was scared of his own food would come out of there alive. But I never really thought about after that, that he'd change; what if he just shut down, shut down to the point neither me nor dad could get through to him? I never thought about that - there's nothing I would've been able to do, despite how much I'd like to think there's something I could've done there really isn't.

"I - I guess that's just the cold hard truth of it," I say with a defeated sigh.

Saffron's been through this, she knows; when it comes to the games what she says is cold, hard fact. I can't argue with it.

I don't know if that's supposed to make me feel better or not but it just didn't. I'm helpless these games, no matter how hard I try I can't protect anyone. Can I even protect myself? As much as I would like to think I can there's always a 'what if'. What if I can't? What if I die? What if they want me dead? I just hate this feeling of helplessness, I just hate the fact I could die and there ain't nothing I can do about it. Worse than what I felt with Mantel in that oversized arena.

I let out a deflated sigh, letting the feeling of hopelessness wash over me.

"Saffron, do you think this all happened for a reason?" I ask, "I remember after Mantel was reaped someone told me that it may be for the best, since he was so miserable and bullied back at home," I explain. It's true, I hated thinking that the only way for Mantel to be happy was to get cut down in his prime. No world could be that cruel could it? I just tried to ignore that, just brush it off like it ain't true.

But now I'm being sent to meet the same fate, after four years of being so miserable...

"I try not to think about that too much, but at the end of this I might get to see Mantel again," I hesitate, pausing for a second, "but I... I don't want my life ripped away just to see him again."