Little Minds [Artemis]

Absalom Ottrel

Life had given away to silence once again. Absalom was familiar with the occasional hiccup. When the girl entered his world that had come promising the sorts of desires and wishes and wants like he’d never seen, Absalom had bent –craning his neck to see what she had brought. But just as steady handed as she had been, the girl was gone, and Absalom was left exposed to the cold of winter, then the heat of summer. Another season pushed onward, wherein the victor of the games was not from District One. There was sadness, and there was unhappiness, but—life when onward, with the shrugging of shoulders the cold steely resolve of a place not to be undone. And Absalom continued, continued training because there would be no other way.

When he awoke in the morning a chill wrapped about his chest. Summer had turned to fall not with a grand display of heat melting into cold, but the slow and sweeping chill across the horizon. The mornings were always like this now, the sun not risen but his day just beginning. How else could he capture every moment, to be a part of every second that passed him by? Absalom lived his life in a vein so rarely struck by others. He could not look so far into the past, take time to analyze and recalibrate, nor could he envision the future and daydream for hours on end. The present, what he could taste, touch, see, hear, and smell—those were the moments he spent breaking his back and perfecting his body. Absalom Ottrel was a slave to time only in that he could not depart from the here and now.

He liked the morning time most of all because the streets were so empty. There was no one to dodge, no one hurling out insults or questions - why were there ever so many questions? Just a peaceful silence that kept him going, a calmness that lingered through his skin. He would think about how sweet the air smelled, or if a cloud was shaped like a dog, or a cow, or something inbetween. He was supposed to review all the little missteps from the day before, or the words that didn't make sense to him. Yesterday's phrase had been "over the moon", which didn't make much sense to him and seemed like an awful stupid expression to use. Instead Absalom turned his head skyward, and watched as the red painted its way through the clouds and over building tops.

The wind crept across his skin and he paused, rounding a corner. Sweat dripped down from his shoulders and off of his forehead, his towering form now hunched over. Running wasn't fun. It wasn't even something that he would've done once in a month if he were allowed. But it was a part of his schedule, and Absalom would never deviate from his schedule. Not when his father had been so disappointed lately. Saddened by the prospect of another year with Absalom, another whole year where they would have to bear the brunt of keeping the boy in their home before shipping him away. Absalom was the albatross over all of their necks, an otherwise perfect family with a smudge.

He turned at the sound of a bark, and the boy smiled. "Puppies?" He said all at once to himself and no one. Spying the familiar sound of paws against the pavement, Absalom knelt down to embrace the dog headed in his direction. He smiled. He would never have been allowed a pet, to take care of something and to be responsible. It was considered beyond him - or rather, had been since he was a child. What could a boy like him need with something to take care of?