a flurry of sparks | kaplan Dec 1, 2019 20:04:02 GMT -5
Post by sbeeg on Dec 1, 2019 20:04:02 GMT -5
She's instantly struck by the resemblance. A gaggle of women with bright red hair that perfectly mirror the small child that had been displayed on screens for weeks. Kass feels a lump rise in her throat. Do they want to talk to her? What are they going to say?
She fiddled with a metal cap on the end of her newly formed right arm. The piece had come loose and her worrying at it would only make it worse, but she needed something to hold onto.
They have every right to talk to her, to ask her questions and fume. Their words are not what shake her to her core.
She peeks over at them from her spot on the stage. Long red hair, curling around their shoulders. Sharp bright eyes and freckles.
Did her parents look like her? She didn't remember their faces anymore, and had no pictures to remind her. Did they lookalike to strangers? Did they have brown curls like her?
She turned away, trying to control herself. She'd been through hell and she was still mourning a childhood she never got. Her chest tightened.
That family had lost a daughter so an orphan could return to what?
Kass shook the thought away. It still pulled a her shoulders like a rain soaked cloak, dragging her down.
Her name is announced to little applause. She stands, walking to the microphone that an assistant has to adjust to her height.
"Thank you for welcoming me, District Three," she said, stumbling over her rehearsed words. She wanted to say more, to hint at her heart. To make her mentors groan and the Capitol fume. She wanted to start something.
All she could see was fiery red but she felt cold.
"Thank you," she muttered before quickly leaving the stage. She needed water, or air, or something. She wanted Killian and his low calming voice. Kass exhaled and swore it fogged her suit's helmet.
But she'd left that behind.
A canon fires somewhere, filling her ears but not shaking the ground. The broken bone in her right arm throbs and she holds it close to her chest.
She leans against the gray stone wall of District Three's Justice Building, trying to breathe.
table by griffin