Your Worst Nightmare // [85th Cauchemars]
Jun 1, 2020 16:48:48 GMT -5
Post by admin kay on Jun 1, 2020 16:48:48 GMT -5
HELLEMINE CAUCHEMAR
It wasn't until she found herself in a dusty room, filled with a desk, several overstuffed armchairs, decaying books and an empty tumbler, that she realized what she'd done. Like, she knew she'd volunteered. Obviously. But what was now filtering in between dust motes was the consequence: she was going to die.
"Shiiiit."
There as really nothing worse than harshing one's own mellow.
Helle hopped onto the desk, her knobby hip bones slamming into the wood. She rocked a little, hip to hip, sitting on the edge facing the door. Probably she ought to be doing something. Didn't tributes train? Shouldn't she be with her mentors or the boy tribute? Maybe this was the first test. She glanced around for anything that could be a weapon, picked up the tarnished glass, and held it to the afternoon light.
When the door opened, she remembered once again where she was, what she had done, and finally: what this part of the process entailed.
"Ooooh," she wheezed, dropping the glass into her lap. Helle had the good sense to look sheepishly at her sisters. "Yeah, I fucked up a bit back there. Think they'll give me a do-over?"
