Dichotomy (Chaske v Katelyn Day 7)

.: CHASKE PARKS :.
{district nine : 69th tribute}

A storm raged through my body. Tidal waves of blood crashed down inside filling my lungs with fluid. High powered winds struck against every organ slicing open with every breath I take. Blood poured from the gaping holes rapidly coating the ground below me. It caked against my pale, fragile skin. It spread across my shivering arms as my teeth chattered together beneath blue lips. Each breath brought a new pain as the broken ribs flailed in a motion away from my chest. Every time I inhaled, those two ribs floated inwards while the others floated outwards, and when I exhaled, those two ribs floated outwards while the other floated inwards. Rise and fall wasn't equal. Breath sounds disappeared beneath the violent sobs ripping through my throat.

It's so cold.

Drawing the jacket tighter around my arms hasn't done any good. My toes are numb. The tips of my fingers are tingling, and it's only a matter of time before it sweeps through the rest of my body as the blood runs away from my veins. My stomach grows larger and larger with every passing second as blood seeps from the organs hidden behind the rib cage. It expands far beyond making it look like a baby was growing inside - a baby made of blood and shattered bones.

I'm heavy. Moving my legs takes more effort than it should. It makes it seem like my legs don't have the will to move, and inside my head I'm screaming at them trying to make them work. Sending off signals hoping someone will respond, yet none of them do. They fight against me taking control, and all they do is lay limp on the ground. Pleading with them does no good because all my life I begged for someone to care about me. For someone to love me the way I should've been loved, yet love was only a four letter word meant to be broken. Meant to leave a person alone humiliated by the rest of the world.

Pleading with the girl from eleven would've turned my cheeks a bright red in color, but the sobs and the panting, and the blood loss took it all away. Expecting her to stay next to a dying man was stupid on my behalf. She should run away leaving me behind. Alone. Afraid. Like I ran away from the bloodbath. From Mystic. From the tiny girl from twelve. From Mason. From Wyatt. From the girl from district five. From Prism. From everything that has ever bothered me. I don't deserve the chance of having someone by my side. Of having someone care about me because nobody does.

Yet when she slumps down next to me taking my hand into hers, I can't help the sobs that run rampant through my entire body. She didn't have to do this. Didn't have to sit beside me. She could've ignored my plea like everyone else. Like mother and father. Like Chance. Like every person who stepped into my path, but she chose not to. Large tears leak from my eyes running down my face mixing with the snot pouring from my nose, and the blood that's slowly began trickling from the corners of my lips.

"No one deserves to die alone. Not even you."

Her words bounce through my skull wall repeating over and over until it finally sets in. A monster doesn't deserve the kind of love she's showing. The kind of love that has swept across the cornucopia taking over my body. She should leave. Run away like everyone else would've. Like I would've. Something is different about her. A monster doesn't grow inside of her like everyone else in this godforsaken place. Revenge and anger. She doesn't have any of those. All she wants is to survive. To return home to her parents alive. To see another day outside a frozen hell.

"Than...k you..."

Those two words took every ounce of strength I had. They tore against my throat. Ricocheting against my teeth before finally slipping past quivering lips.

She has a chance to walk free. A chance to move on. A chance to grow older and have a family, and all I have is this last moment. My final resting place. A frozen hell. A frozen wasteland created by the Capitol for the slaughter of twenty-three individuals. Twenty have already perished, and here I am. Next in line as death's door opens in front of me. A bright light shines out from behind it along with a hand reaching from the other side using a single finger motioning for me to come. Motioning for me to stand up and follow. But what awaits on the other side of the door is unknown.

Two weeks ago at the reaping when my name was called, I would've laughed at anyone who said I was going to die, but now the laughing is on me as I recline against the frozen ice sculpture behind me. Blood smears against it's walls before forming a pool beneath me, and it's soaking through the outfit given by the Capitol.

My feet are numb, and from my hips down to my ankles all I can feel is the tingling as it crawls up my body. Taking more and more with it as the door opens wider before my eyes. The hand reaches out further, and I'm gasping, choking, fighting with everything left inside to stay alive, but I'm so tired. I'm ready to sleep. Ready to close my eyes and say goodnight to the world. And for that moment, I allow my eyes to close. All the coldness to overtake my body. The sobs cease to exist, and for a second the world's quiet. It's peaceful. It's relax-...

"CHASKE!" A voice screams my name, and my eyes snap open. Once again I'm gasping for air. Fighting against the pain. Fighting for survival as it threatens to take my life away. The door opens slightly more and the hand reaches out trying to take me away, but somewhere inside is a fight that's carrying on. It's keeping me alive when nobody else would It's telling me to keep going. To stand up and fight, but the idea of wielding a weapon makes a small smile form on my face. Going out fighting. Going out doing what I wanted. Feasting on blood. Little did I know that this feast would end up being my own. "Don't close your eyes. Don't go to sleep."

It's crazy. All I want to do is lay down and sleep. Lay down and close my eyes because they're slowly shutting, and right now it's draining me to hold them open. I try to move, but every muscle is dead. the only thing left inside is my beating heart and lungs screaming for air, but my brain is shutting down. It's taking away the oxygen. The blood. The will to survive. Everything, and here I am pleading with myself as the voices grow stronger carrying on. Carrying away everything that's been placed in front of me. And the door opens wider, and it's quiet. All I can hear is the feint ticking of my heart reminding me that I'm barely alive. Barely hanging on.

The world is a blur around me as my tear stained eyes scan the area one last time, and they stop on the silhouette of the girl next to me. A girl who's name I never knew. A girl I tried to kill. The girl who killed me. And I can feel my hand still resting in her's. Loud shrieks explode from somewhere inside. She cares about me. She cares enough to sit by my side holding my hand as the world fades away into nothing. Slowly my eyes shut again, and the door in front opens wider and wider. I can almost see what's on the other side. I can almost push my way through the door. It's quiet and peaceful, and for the first time I'm welcoming death-...

"CHASKE WAKE UP YOU WORTHLESS BEING!"

The door closes in front of me as my eyes snap open again. A loud buzzing echoes through my ears, and there's nothing I can do. Nothing that's holding me on except the voices ringing inside my head. It's one of the words though that give me strength. A new fire burning inside of my limp, almost lifeless, body. One that allows for my lungs to scream longer. One that allows the pain to fill my bones. One word that's tormented me all my life. One that changed the way the world moved around me. One that I won't ever forget.

Worthless.

Like a broken cup trying to hold water, or a shattered mirror failing to shine a perfect reflection back towards the person standing in front of it, or water trying to clear a coffee stain from the floor, or a broken heart trying to beat, or a pile of wood trying to cook a meal without a fire burning.

Worthless.

That's all I am. That's all anyone has ever seen me as. A worthless piece of trash who messes up everything. It's always my fault no matter how far away from the incident I was. It's my fault I'm dying. It's my fault this girl gets to live another day and possibly return home. It's my fault that my parents are dead. It's my fault Mystic died. It's my fault the girl from twelve died. It's my fault Mason died. It's my fault Wyatt died. It's my fault the girl from five died. It's my fault that Prism died. It's my fault that I was born. I'm a mistake. A worthless mistake.

Feeling for her hand, I make sure she's still there. That she hasn't ran away from me, yet it's enough to remind me that she cares, but soon she'll move on and forget. She'll forget that she helped me. She'll forget that she held my hand as I died. She'll forget that she didn't abandon me like everyone else has. I'll soon be another nameless face in the sky. One that nobody remembers like the twenty who have died before me, and the many others who have died in the games. Everyone else will move on, and my body will rot in a coffin beneath the ground somewhere in district nine. They'll all move on.

Soon I'll be just like them.

"Do you want to play a game?" A childish voice echoes freely throughout my mind, and I don't have neither the will nor the strength to fight against it. To fight against something so childish.

"Yes." The words barely audible as they fly across my quivering lips.

"Close your eyes and count to ten, and while you are counting, I'll hide. When you reach ten, you can open your eyes and come find me."

"Okay." Slowly my eyes drift shut, and I count.

"One, two, three, four, five, six, sev-"

Forgotten.