The Bloodbath

Names carry weight in this world.

From the day a person is born to the paper pulled from a glass bowl, a name can carry the weight of the planet on someone's shoulders, crushing them from the expectations in our world. Names carry such an unbearable weight to them, some days I didn't want to be Luella Duval. Carrying the name of a known rebel couple around with the weight of the world on my shoulders, burdened by them and if I had my way, I wouldn't be a Duval. My bones wouldn't crumble under the pressure of what my mother had left me with. Panem had been falling, but now it's standing tall with the capitol as the weight on top of the world.

Picking and choosing who to crumble next with the weight of a name. It's heavy like the weight of my exhaustion still clambering around the edges of myself, begging to rest. I can't rest. Not when thousands of eyes stare down at me with the intent that I must prove my loyalty and kill. Kill for their efforts and beliefs of giving us a fair punishment for the end of a war I never fought in. The crowd could fuck off for all I care, they could be as restless as they want to be, but none of them knew what hardship was, except maybe the three pairs of eyes staring at them in the crowd, complacent murderers from before, but also innocent children who turned into what the capitol wanted.

Killing machines.

Victors were just another cog in the machine to hold over us.

Just like the rebels, throwing us into a war.

The victors kept the cycle going.

"I'm Josephine, Joey."

Josephine. The name of a girl who wasn't afraid me or the sword I hold in my hand. There's a bravery to the way the girl stands before me, watching the world around us explode into chaos and a lack of bloodshed that'll surely get the audience upset. Josephine reminded me of Analise, always stuck in her head, overthinking the way the world works. Questioning the way things were and why they had to be this way. That would be helpful in the long run, if she is to make it out of here.

"What's yours?"

A name is all I have on a battlefield of sand and stone.

"Luella."

A name spilled from my lips in a sense of it carrying weight, despite it never having carried any weight, other than my parents' dead bodies. Luella Duval, the district eight female of the fourth games. A girl who will die with nothing left to give, just another name in the sea of names that already lay beneath me. My hand tightens around the hilt of the sword, letting myself sink onto it, pushing it further into the sand, feeling more and more like the world was watching me break once more. No longer the same girl back home who kept her mouth shut and stood in front of Peacekeepers with a calm expression, never afraid of the brutality they had.

"This is so fucking pathetic. This is what you call a show?"

The girl from the night before who started off the Keepers' anger shouts. The words mixing with my own thoughts, twisting together with the memories of wanting to hide away with Analise and Amira, smiling in our room with a board game between us. Smiles plastered upon our lips as if we couldn't remember why the Peacekeepers always decided to pick our home to mess with. Make a show of the Duval Orphanage for other places in Eight to not hide away rebel enthusiasts, but we weren't hiding them away.

Keepers just wanted an excuse to push some kids around.

Show their strength to the rest of Eight.

Just like this game of blood and death.

"If you wanted a show, you’d at least be smart enough to get people who can put up a fight, but children?"

Innocent children, born into a war that wasn't theirs, but became theirs.

"Look, we’re here now. There isn’t much use crying or shoveling around, being afraid won’t get us out of this." A pause. "A majority of us will die today, that’s just how it’ll be. All we are doing is delaying the inevitable. But are we going to just let our people watch more blood be shed without purpose?" More of us will die in this war that never ends. A war that rebranded itself into a new packaging that's more suitable to grasp. A show of power between the districts and the capitol. "Why give those pigs what they want so easily, let’s make them earn it!" A chill runs down my spine, remembering the way my mother spoke about the capitol.

Words of telling me that the capitol will have to earn their freedom after the districts are done with them. Memories of bullet wounds and cold eyes filling my head before I glance to the crowd, noticing the boos and the items being thrown down at us. Anger in the fact we are disagreeing to be their entertainment. All of us will die, even the one who survives. We'll never be the same kids as we were before, instead we'll bleed and burn and never forget that pain. We'll turn into the capitol's toy to show off of what a good citizen is.

Sacrifice to be given as a form of competition to turn districts against one another. A game to turn brother and sister against one another, burn down families who deserved better than this, and bring about a ruin that'll collapse everything they knew. I couldn't let that happen, not without a fight. The girl was right, we couldn't let them continue on this path. History needed to be made here, burned into a new one where Panem will fall and a new nation will rise in its place. Hopefully a better one that'll lead to a happy life.

"He said it best down there. If they really want us dead, then they’ll get their hands dirty. So let’s let them. Why should we always do the work for them?"

The lack of a fight continues, tributes pairing off into groups to hide away or scream and shout back to the crowd. Tributes avoiding any bloodshed and all I can do is watch in silence. Watch as the audience gets madder by the second, items thrown down from the crowd and into the pit below. Tributes getting hit with items, but still standing on their feet. The games wasn't happening and it's already been quite some time since they've gotten there. I can feel myself turn back to Joey, whose eyes follow the same trail mine had done. Staring across at other tributes and the audience and for a moment, I wonder if Joey is afraid of them. Afraid of the capitol itself.

"Does it really matter what we do?"

The sigh fills my heart for a moment. The exhaustion as clear as day present in Joey's voice. The war had taken it's toll on all of us. That was clear enough. I can remember the joy I had when the war was over, but nothing would prepare me for the announcement of the Hunger Games. Something much more worse than the war, punishment for all of the wrongs in the war. A silence fills me as I stare with wonder at a girl who was just as tired as I was.

"Can we change anything?"

I knew the answer. The truth. All of it came down to one thing.

"No."

Change wouldn't start with them. Death was the only option for them. Twenty three of them to be put here in this pit, another brick with their name engraved to remind them that they are another piece in this despicable wall that holds them inside. Change never came with my parents. Change never came with my Nana. Change never came with my defiance. One life can't change the world, but a single life can cause something more.

"But we can be the spark."

Eyes glancing back to the girl who started last night's incident.

Our war would never end.

It was only just the beginning.

 lumi cartwright

She learns a second too late that hope is fatal. "I could totally take you!" She beams, a kitten standing in front of another stray, raised hackles calming as she no longer has to pretend she'd even try kill the newcomers. It's nice to think that story could have had a happy ending. Their words didn't hurt, they hardly threatened - though she still shuffled a few steps back toward Finn as the strange boy dropped on one knee. The girl reminded her of autumn, regal but peaceful ; the boy was summer with those molten eyes shining up at her like stars on a clear night.

She covers her mouth to stifle a giggle, one that shatters a silence apparently meant for screams. She can't tell what's going on at first, staggering all the way back against the wall in hopes that it allows her to make some sense of the sudden mayhem. The metallic scent of blood hits her before she sees the beasts. One gold as the sun, tangled fur bunched around his face like the stupid collars choking some of the Capitolites screeching in the stands.

The way it mingles with the spilled drink and spoiled food makes her stomach churn.

It carves a path of ruin, quick extinguishing the fire that had been ignited among them. It was there to hurt them, all because they'd dared be brave enough to help instead. Lumi's breath catches in her throat when it draws near them and it's all she can to shuffle cautiously in front of Finn to obscure him from its view. That thing wouldn't even have to try to kill him.

Her heart squeezes in her chest at the thought.

None of it matters in the end. The Queen of Autumn is a mess of blood, rendered pale and shaking as it tears into her skin. "No!" She takes a few steps forward and more than a few steps back, desperately wanting to ease her pain but with no idea where to begin. Numb fingers pull listlessly at her uniform, unsuccessful in their attempt to fashion a makeshift bandage. Nanette says she loves the boy next to her and Lumi wonders what that's like.

It's not like she'll ever know.

"W-we need to put pressure on it!"