Faith trust and a little pixie dust [Foh day 4]

It's easier to pretend. To imagine that it isn't really the end. To convince myself that the two boys are only sleeping. It's easier, but the thickness of this lie's layers are too impactful to ignore. The red rivers seeping stickily into the soil are too visible. The shuddering sobs of a child are too loud to be silenced by thought. There are no tricks or techniques to shutting out the truth of a slaughter, and that's exactly what our steps are leading us away from. 

My hands hold no warmth as they have done in the past with Ollie's interlocked with them. Today in the wake of the war, we stagger in silence as the survivors of severe trauma. We are an ally down in a sea of swarming enemies thirsting for blood. There is no joy or positivity left in any of the deepest crevices of this passing of the sun. And what's worse, today was just the first singularity in a system of events that will shatter our reality. We have now been officially christened in the bloody baptism of the games' cruelty. 

Small scarlet streams stem from my fingers pushing pressure against my arm. The pain no longer pierces every possible nerve, but it is far from giving way to relief. I think of the girl who gave me this gift of torture. I remember her face but know no other information. I long for an understanding of what has allowed her to advance into such aggression. I crave the formation of her name across the arches of my lips. I cannot let myself hate her if I do not know her. For all I know she is just like me but with a One sewn into her story. 

As the sun sinks lower into radiating rays of immense illuminated beauty, I begin to sway with my steps. Sweat hangs over my head heavily weighing me further towards the forest floor. My arm, although healing, needs rest for my body to manage the process. I am about to request we finally retire against the same trees we've remained unsuccessfully sheltered in from the start when Zeke stops to settle in. A silent thank you slips from my lips as I allow my legs finally to break under the burden of my exhaustion.

Sleep is far from a luxury I've allowed myself to indulge in since rising into this apex of terror. With the massacre of living children constantly churning, hidden in the stark shadows of this island, my dreams have been distant. With Cesare now departed by the hands of Akira, I am ready to return to my ever existent wakefulness. At least I try to before somehow sleep drags me deep into its array of delusional and dangerous dreams. 

There is only enough times for five different dawns of death to rise before the anthem alerts me back into the black and bloodstained forest. As faces both foreign and familiar share the sky with the shimmering stars of this arena, my mind thinks of home. I wonder whether Kestrel has finally been able to stop her sobs of sorrow. I worry whether Raven, as strong as she has been sewn together to be, is managing running our havoc of a household on her own. I then think about how they will feel when the chill of cold covers my body and it is my face dancing within the celestial heavens. It makes my stomach swell with unspeakable fires of fear. 

---

Tiny droplets dripping through the branches from  the early sun tickle me from the constrictions of my restless slumber. Tearing myself free from the thorny vines of the darkness, I notice a stack of stones now built by my side. A tiny face now witness to multiple monstrosities tells me the the tale of their origin. Her voice is threaded with warmth as she speaks nearly stirring a small smile onto my lips before the needle pricks me with ice as she finishes. It's as though her hope, once vibrant and flourishing, has been suffocated into painful acceptance. 

"Don't be silly. Why would I do that when they can give them to you instead?"

My focus flutters towards the towering trees surely sheltering the eyes of those always watching. Sorry, I think to my sisters and to my brothers. Already once have I condemned them to hear my words of welcome to Thanatos' chariot. Already once have my words of wisdom in knowing my odds sent clear falls of water down my smallest sibling's cheeks. Hopefully this time they can recognize why I must form my phrases in this way. Ollie is a child, she deserves far better than death at the age of twelve. She deserves to be a teenager. To be dramatic and to have troubles with love. She deserves to to know more than such few years of living. 

And what about you Dove?

I can feel Raven's words searing into my thoughts.

Well, I haven't been a child for years. I've lived a whole life time in just sixteen intervals of 365 days. I grew up. I stopped school. I became a Mother and raised a family. In just a short span I've lived a century. I have no life beyond being the care taker of my siblings. At home I lived within the walls of that house while rarely leaving. If I go back then I'm a Mother once again, an adult. Ollie can go back and start as a girl. It will be a hard life, but she will get to live it. It's better than someone who has already lived their's. 

We set out later that morning. As our steps scuttle the leaves littering the floor a new sensation enters our surroundings. Splashes spill against the soil as rain runs through the warm air. In result, our pace quickens as we seek shelter from the potentially poisonous or dangerous droplets. 

A hole of all things provides us with our wish. As rain continues to rattle through the trees I look around our underground expanse of space. My fingers follow the winding roots of the structure when a subtle shaking begins to vibrate the walls. At first it's confusion crawling across my mind. Then its fear as my weapon slides swiftly into my hands. Today it's not people, but demons of larger proportions. Yet, somehow it makes it easier for me to let my spear free from my grip.

"We have to get out of here!"

I shout following my sailing silver spear with my eyes. These beasts were bred for this hole. They are home, and we are invaders.

"We have to get out of here!"

Doves words echoed through a tired, frantic mind while a pounding heartbeat boomed through his skull. Every hair stood on end. Wide eyes watched the creature erupt through the ground. They were ugly little creatures, and Zeke wanted nothing to do with them, but as the snapped at his friends, he knew they were all in danger.

Zeke was nothing more than a prey that walked into the predators trap, and the two girls, Dove and Ollie followed his lead without even thinking twice.

"Ollie! Dove! Watch out!" The words scratched his throat on the way out making it impossible to move. Impossible to even think, and yet he found himself running over racing to their aid. Part of his body begged him to run away, to just escape and leave them behind, but a healer would never do that. From the moment his training ended, Zeke swore to save those who were in need. A healer was more than someone who tried to save people from the brink of death, and it took this moment, this terrible moment of being in the midst of the hunger games to finally realize that.

Butterflies danced around inside his stomach twisting his intestines into knots. Each breath caught in the back of this throat. Moving was hard. Someone took glue and plastered his feet to the ground. Knobby knees quivered beneath the weight of his body. Fighting humans was one thing because they had feelings. They knew what it was like wanting to survive, but whatever this crazy mutt was only knew one thing. The gamemakers created it to kill. To devour any tribute that stepped in its path. And that was what they were trying to do.

A heavy sigh left his chest as his feet broke free. Standing still would only make him become more of meal for a mutt, and whatever was holding him back slipped away. Today Zeke wouldn't become a meal for the horrible, ugly beast.

He took a deep breath forcing himself to calm down, to relax because living in fear would only make things worse. Right now being in control was important. Fear only increased the tension around him, and despite hiding behind a blank face, Zeke was panicking more than anyone would ever know.

"Quick! That way!"

The tip of the sword pointed to the exit. Perhaps they would make it out. Maybe all they needed was a distraction. For the worms to follow him, and when they were safe, only then would Zeke run towards the safety of the exit. It was wrong to let these things stand between him and his escape route.

His only hope was the mistake wouldn't become fatal.

I had a nightmare like this once.

"Dove!"

It was terrifying.

"Please... help me! Please, Dove!"

The walls were dirt and the roof was root which became snakes slithering from the shadows.

"Dove! Hurry! Please!"

My sisters were there. My brothers too, I think.

"Dove get Raven!"

I remember they were all over her body. Her eyes swirling with the stormy seas of panic burnt like brands into my soul.

"Get her quick! Why are you just standing there? Go!"

I was frozen with fright, its tentacles slipping under the surface of my skin. Its toxins infecting my nerves. I was its puppet and it was the marionette.

"Dov...e... I..."

I watched the snakes slice her throat and a waterfall of red run over their scales. They came for me next still sewn to my strings with a silent scream scarring my face. Their teeth were just tearing into my skin when finally the terror become to palpable for my mind to manage.I woke seconds letter sweating, wreathing in my shredded sheets.

"Quick that way!"

It's Zeke's voice that follows the rush of my own. Yes! It runs through my head in his suggestion to find safety in flight. He is strong, I have seen his hands commit calamities incapable of being forgiven. He is strong, but he is clearly sensible in his thoughts. He could stand, show his strength for the sponsors and for the murderous reputation running rampant among the District Six males. But instead he does not give into lunacy, into the drug of fame of the allure of fortune. He is smart, and for that I am appreciative beyond saying.

Denial sends certainty of our actions into contemplation. But I do not hesitate, her words hold hope yet they must be managed. How much longer will we all be together? How soon again before a terrible tragedy takes us from her side? From the beginning I've protected her, surrendering my own skin and blood for her well being. I promised myself to her survival and have happily been serving my sentence. Yet now I cannot allow my wings to cripple or my intentions idle. She must learn what is foolish and what molds a child into the wearer of a killer's crown.

"No Ollie, follow us! We have to stick together!"

I've never been one for a stern tongue, so I'm certain my words send with more softness than I mean. I care for the girl with a braid of blonde I crafted. In her eyes, in her laughter, in her tears I see my smallest sister. I see a child who needs guidance through the darkness of our existence. The Hunger Games is not where a twelve year old she be, but here she is. For now I am with her, here for her. We are fighting and we are strong as she says. But I must also help her learn limits. This world is going to change her, it is already changing me. But perhaps with help I can keep most of the demons away from the light still living within her heart.

The hole shifts with the movement of weight. Another round of offense, another moment to shed away the shyness of inflicting pain. There is no room here for a bird who cannot use her talons.

What happened to the healer that struck down tributes like it was nothing? Zeke couldn't stop the thoughts from racing through his mind as his eyes locked on the worms. One of them was injured almost beyond repair, but most of the damage was from Ollie. She had broken many bones - was the young blonde from ten capable of destroying a mutt the healer could barely hit?

Was there something different? Was there a reason the lives of humans were easier to take than an ugly best crawling along the ground?

The answer was far away despite the efforts to find it.

For being only twelve years old, Ollie was different. She was brave and filled with hope. Haley was filled with hope. She always had to remain strong despite the world trying to knock her down. Perhaps that was why the young blonde from ten reminded him so much of his younger sister. But it was almost painful. The thoughts of her dying, and maybe having to watch her die again -

She's not Haley. Reminding himself of that was hard, but it was something that needed done.

Her words echoed through his mind as she swung the heavy weapon down. So far she was doing well, but there wasn't much time left for them all to be together. This was an individual game as only one would survive. For now Zeke chose to remain by her side and to fight along with her.

Dove's words came next, and she was trying to stop Ollie from charging the mutt. Together they could escape. Together they could make it out of this alive. Together they stood a chance to face the rest of the arena until the time came to separate from one another.

Perhaps thinking about all that was his downfall because he didn't even see the worm coming. The jaws snapped shut against his vest forcing all the air to exit his lungs. The healer stood perfectly still trying to take it all in. Trying to catch his breath. Worms weren't meant to hurt people. They were such tiny creatures trying to live. But these were different.

These things were monsters bred to kill, and they didn't deserve a chance at life.

His eyes turned towards Ollie trying to find the words to say. Her courage was something Zeke admired, but there was a difference between being brave and just playing stupid. A heavy sigh left his chest as the air returned to his lungs, and in that moment, he wasn't sure what to do.

"I don't want to become worm food today!" The words filled the air much louder than he meant to, but perhaps it would become the motivation he needed. Tiptoeing around was becoming difficult, and the roots were standing in his way blocking the walls for a chance to escape. "We can't stay here even if we do kill these because there's probably more coming after them."

His heart leaped as he gripped the sword.

Maybe they would run away. Maybe they could all make it out of this alive.

I'm lucky, youth relinquishes to wisdom and together our team stands. Before us the battle is far from ending but successes are spawning. Together the two I now find myself attached to end the life of one of the slithering creatures. Its blood is thick spewing from the scars their blades bore into its skin. The stench swirling forth from the flowing rivers causes quaking deep within my stomach. The aftermath of violence is never a sight sewn together by beauty. 

My eyes, as they so often do, drift to Ollie standing over the shattered structure of her first kill. On previous days over the broken bodies of the dead tears fell from the wells of her eyes. Today there is no sorrow, no regret. She stands small yet beaming with brilliance and bravery. I know in facts she is still twelve and cute child from District Ten, but here now within this world she is far older and defined by the name of tribute. A potential victor. 

Such thoughts within my head turns attention towards Zeke. I imagine he was once fragile, a glass figurine with a small fire flickering at his center. Now such an exterior has splintered, and in a metamorphosis of exponential change blood has seen his fire explode. He is now unlimited by the suffocation of once fragile containment. His fire now burns across numerous lives and scorches deep into the stained soil of this forest. On a blade he has built a new life as well under the name of tribute. Another potential champion of casualties. 

Then there's me. Inside this microcosm of hatred and despair, I have shed so much of the softness I once wore as my feathers. To Ollie a mother still fixes her long lovely locks into braids, still settles her into sleep upon my lap. But before the eyes of anyone else my feathers are black, burnt by the forging of my own fire. I am no Raven like my sister or Eagle like my brother, but I have given up grace for stronger talons. I wanted to remain passive, persistent in my wishing of well for all people. But I don't wish for such dreams any longer. I still know that soon I will be sent forever into sleep; probably by an unforeseen blade like the boy from Twelve. But now I want one of them to rise from the red seas. I now have reasoning for causing pain. 

There is silence. For a second it sits and I look towards the roots and the dirt keeping us captive. I realize I wish for another thing as well. I want to see the sky again, even if it's false. I want to feel the sun kissing my skin. I want to feel the breeze dancing with my hair. I don't want to have my last living memory be of a hole filled with sickening stench of dying worms. 

I want something better than this. I have earned an ending better than dying in the darkness. And I'm not ready to go yet either. So I will keep on going, keep on fighting for another chance to see the sun. Maybe I'll see a Kestrel, an Eagle, a Raven, or a Falcon among the clouds.