Memoirs Of Death and The Damned (Stand-Alone)
May 6, 2015 13:27:07 GMT -5
Post by shrinkingviolet on May 6, 2015 13:27:07 GMT -5
Karidee Wingbreck
In the highest borough of Panem, those in which were publicly favored, pawned their worth in return for an extra ounce of champagne, laughing in harmony with one another-- a sea of expensive extraordinaire's, each oblivious to the devastation that was eighty percent of our population.
They were truly oblivious, and that was the pitiful part-- the forgiving part. They were brainwashed to believe that Panem expelled only good to the twelve remaining districts-- may the thirteenth rest in peace. And in an unfortunate twist of events, I once presumed the same thing. Though it wasn't until I bothered the untidy area of Fathers study, that I saw on a small, yet static television-- an innocent man hung, painted to match the Capitol's symbol.
The naive, young girl inside became a woman almost instantaneously, a painful transformation I wasn't aware of, not until I fled within the night, abandoning the Wingbreck name, and embracing the understanding arms of my Grandmother. She was beautiful, in both the mind and soul, and her ways and woes was what managed to fuel me through the remainder of my youth.
Though now, as I perched at a table, listening to chatter of Wingbreck elite, I managed to brave an expression of understanding-- disgusted on the inside.
"It's so nice of you to join us, Poldarkh." My mother smiled, her thin, barely existing lips the color of blackberry. The guest nodded in return.
"Cohrum said he worked with you in the western sector of Panem." She then added.
"I said I worked with Poldarkh for the western sector, sweetheart." My father corrected, rubbing his knuckles-- a habit, though I commonly wondered if they were sore.
One of my sisters gazed admiringly at our parents, almost as if she wished to have the same love, adoration, and care. I once told her it was fake, and that they actually hated one-another. She didn't speak directly to me after that.
"How is work, Poldarkh?" Another sister asked.
"Ah--" He stuttered, his mouth turning down in contemplation.
"You may talk of it." My mother acceptingly said.
Poldark nodded, gathering his thought process. "It's slow, not a lot of... District members are willing to contribute, at this moment in time."
My father grunted in disgust. "Ugh! What rudeness, where is their humanity? After everything the Capitol does for them, and they won't even contribute to a little experiment? Disgusting!"
"I quite agree with you, dear--" My mother went to agree, though I interrupted.
"What are the district's denying?" I questioned, faking the family distaste to the subject. Poldarkh diverted his gaze from the mahogany table, to me, almost stunned to hear the break in my usual silence. "The Capitol has urged us to do some experiments, for beneficial health and such. We can't practice our work on the animals, as they've begun rebelling a little more than expected, so we've had to result in using those in the districts as a--"
"Does that answer your question, Karidee?" Father asked, and Poldarkh cleared his throat in embarrassment for being too engrossed. I nodded, flashing a teeth exposed smile. He turned, oblivious to it's charm.
An avox appeared, and many followed. They accompanied our fourth pouring of champagne with desert, something cream colored, and soft. It tasted like spice and sugar, and no-one spoke as they ate.
One of my sister's didn't touch it, as starvation was more attractive. Poldarkh wasn't paying attention, and this agitated her.
"How is your wife, Poldarkh?" Mother asked.
"I don't have a wife." Poldarkh answered, a little confused.
Father cleared his throat, and then rubbed his knuckles some more.
Another agonizing minute went by, and I stood with a sigh, mimicking an apologetic expression.
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to retire to my apartment. I have an early meeting in the morning wi--"
"Goodnight Karidee." One of my sisters snapped, focused on Poldarkh.
Father didn't look up, though Mother waved a hand in goodbye.
I left without giving another glance, though Poldarkh's gaze followed me the entire way.
