Post by steel campano | 8f | zoë on Oct 6, 2017 19:28:14 GMT -5
My breath shakes. I can feel it rattling in my windpipe, in my ribs, in my chest. Clattering around in there with a racing heart, shell-shocked from the sound of my name being called across the District. Shoulda fucking seen it coming. From the day I was born I've been a goddamn bad luck charm. Radley left. Mom and Dad left. Was about damn time I left, too.
District Nine can fucking kiss my ass.
Thing is, Mom, Dad, Radley, everyone else - they left on their own accord. Made their decisions. Decided to leave me in the dust, me and my bad luck. I don't blame them, but fuck, at least they had a choice in the matter. Nobody left to say goodbye to me - nobody but Radley, showing up last minute like he gives a fuck now it's my turn to leave. Selfish dickhead. Piece of shit like the rest of Nine - fuck, they can have him. Them and all their selfishness.
Girl sitting across from me - I can't remember her name but I remember how they snarled with glee as she left - I feel sorry for her. Maybe she did something awful to make them hate her, or maybe she was just born, like me, to repel people from her presence.
"Hey," I say - catching her attention, gesturing back towards home. "Fuck em. Those people out there."
Maybe she did something terrible, something I'll only discover in the arena. Something terrible like the things I've done.
"They can rot."
“and men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins.”
Post by my 1st gf turned into the moon on Oct 7, 2017 18:09:02 GMT -5
No one came to see me before it was time to leave. Not my grandmother, not my grandfather. I shouldn't have cared, but when the Peacekeeper's voice greeted me all gruff and curt—"Time to go."—I began to cry even harder. He didn't seem to care. No one ever seemed to care. Not even the people who hate me care enough to laugh at me before I'm whisked away forever. I think I would've preferred that. At least the familiarity would've been comforting.
I hide my face in my hands when I sit, shaking shoulders and sweaty palms already enough of a dead giveaway that I'm far too frail for this. The Games. Oh heaven's sake, I can't do this. I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die. Just like they all want me to. Just like they have always wanted me to.
I sob harder, keeping my face hidden behind my curls and manicured hands—"Hey."—but it seems I haven't muffled my distress enough. He's going to tell me to shut up and quit my sniveling and I'll try my hardest not to choke on the fear that I hold inside. I'm used to it. I can manage.
"Fuck em. Those people out there."
I sniffle, peek through my fingers and wipe carefully at my eyes. I find my hands itching for a mirror, certain of the consequences that will ensue if grandmother sees how my eyeliner has blurred and my mascara has run down my cheeks. But she isn't here to scold. Not anymore, not ever. It's only this boy who is coming with me.
And I can't even contain my confusion. Because yes, his eyes are full of hatred, but they are not directed at me. His finger is accusatory, but it isn't aimed at me.
It's just a whisper. Small. Unlikely that he even heard it.
"They can rot."
No one has talked to me without a hateful word since-- well, ever. And though his language is a bit vulgar—makes my nose crinkle on instinct—my lips make their way into a cautious smile anyway. I've never hated anyone, certainly never imagined them all rotting before. But just having someone to speak to is already slowing the tears to my eyes.
I give a small nod, try to make myself sound bigger than I am when I speak. "Yeah." Of course I fail. I sound just as small and insignificant as I feel. "They can all--"
I pause because the word feels dirty spinning around in my mind and dancing on the tip of my tongue.
It's silent for a few moments too long. I think it's acceptable, given the situation.
"I'm sorry, I, uh," I'm embarrassed of my appearance, but he doesn't seem to mind. So I sit up a little taller, fold my hands in my lap instead of over my eyes. "Didn't catch your name?"
"I run on the road, long before I dance under the lights."