The Bloodbath

"Paloma is the name, although you’ll have to tell me yours howler."

Another thing he hadn't heard in years, someone asking for his name. Giving up important information like that put the Drifters in great jeopardy back out in the woods. The Capitol enjoyed a level of control over their subjects, even those that didn't obey the law or live in the districts at all. If any of them were caught, even the simplest things such as the knowledge of the other members' first names could cause the group to fall like dominos. Instead, Ander and the Drifters preferred animosity. It helped to keep one another safe: the less that they knew of the personal lives of their community, the less that the Capitol could force out of them if given the opportunity.

He wanted to share, but his hesitation just let Paloma continue to talk. "The tables have already shifted, you have to ask which side will you be on. The ones who’ll slide off the broken legs or the one who will dig their nails into the grain. It may hurt to hold on, but that's all we can do. Once you think about letting go, you’ve already fallen off the table before you’ve known it."

It hurt for Ander to hold on to his hope, his sanity, and his bravery in the years after his parents' death and disappearance, but what had caused him to slip, in reality, was when his brother's grip faded into nothingness and he plummeted into the pit. He shouldn't have ran; he shouldn't have left his brother there to be tortured or murdered, or whatever the hell they did to him. Luca propelled him up for years, allowed him to feel tall and strong while in reality his spirit was small and crippled. What if Luca hadn't let go? What if Mom hadn't blocked the soldier's field of view of her sons all those years ago? Would he be any better off? At least then, maybe (just maybe) he'd still be with Luca to the grave, or he'd be whisked away at least with a parent by his side. Then, Ander would have someone to survive with, someone to survive for. The colosseum began to hush with their groans, perhaps suggesting that there was something new up their sleeves. No, in the colosseum, all Ander De la Cruz had to survive for was himself.

“Séui Ngàhn. Paloma. Stranger. My boy Coal and I got the idea that we ain’t going along with any of the bullshit, you know?”

Ander held his breath as two more boys approached, making the trio on their side of the colosseum into a quintet. Stranger. It stung. The others were all called out by name: Paloma, Séui Ngàhn, Coal, this 'Mario' character. Their names held pride and confidence for them, Ander could tell by how quick they were to share with people that they had just met. Ander hated that he could not gather enough security in his heart to do the same. He could cut into his hand without batting an eye, he could get close enough to Mario, who was waving his sword in the air, yet when he dug deep for the courage to say his real name, he found himself fruitless.

Furious footsteps drew his head in the direction of a new gate being opened. There stood a four-legged lion, and on cue, crowds cheered. And the tables now turned. Fuck. The lion went in all directions, pouncing and clawing at whoever it came into contact with. Even Séui Ngàhn, still close by at the time, took some of the pressure from the feline's forceful footwork.

His heartbeats grew in pace considerably.

"Drifter." Denial escaped his lips. "My name is Drifter." The courage to share his true self wasn't there.

The knot in his stomach doubled-down and tightened. Animals are much better as sensing fear than humans are, and they'd no doubt capitalize on his vulnerability. Paloma was right, it's easier to let go and fall than hurt while holding on. And Ander built his securities up high with steep, unclimbable walls.

"Drifter…" He shared it to them once more, just to make sure the point was across. He is Drifter to them, to the audience, to the world.

Death breathed down his neck as the gate opened once again. Drifter: all he ever was, and all he will be.

"Fuck." The next cat hurled itself towards him and his group.

Drifter. Heh. He'd take that lie to his grave soon enough. Besides, it was probably better that they didn't know at this point. Can't hold on to something that doesn't exist. And more importantly, they couldn't let go of it either.

[post four; Ander vibes with Coal // Mario // Séui Ngàhn // Paloma.]

I am not the spark that'll create change.

My fingers tighten around the hilt of the sword where the crowd screams back to us, words heavy upon their lips with the privilege of being above people. Items thrown at tributes to break us down, told to fight for their entertainment and give in to Panem's tactics. My Nana would cry when she watched this later, I already knew it from the moment I picked up this sword which glitters with the memories of my mother and father. Would she wonder if I had made a choice to follow in my mother's footsteps after losing my freedom? I won't ever know if she'll remember me for who I was and not what my mother was, but I know she'll miss me. She'll wish that someone else's name would have been called for the rest of her life. Analise and Amira would watch me and stare in disbelief at the strength it took for me to even push the weapon into the sand.

I am not a coward. I do not run from hardships, I push through them and survive because that's who I am. A survivor since the day my mother and father left me for a war that took away my childhood and made me grow up way too fast. When the animals are released into the place, that's when the chaos starts. Blood begins to spill as I watch the two who stayed together almost like lovers, the lion cuts heavily into the girl, who had been injured like me last night. All of us were still worn down from the beatings of the night before, refusing to fight in a game they created an now we're being forced to face off against creatures, innocent creatures that were meant to fight us.

It's cruel, but I should have expected it from the capitol.

The spark hasn't started. Change wasn't coming. We were alone in a sand pit filled with deadly creatures, only with weapons at our disposal to protect ourselves. I glance back to the two across the way, watching as the girl clutches to his chest. Another voice rings in the air, a girl who I swear I heard the night before saying she was from thirteen. "Run." There was no running from them. We could try, but running wouldn't get any of us far. The capitol would find us and hurt us in ways worse than death. I dare to glance to the two once more, the girl still clutching to his chest, words escaping with a gasp.

"Dusty,"

Storing the name for later, I stare, feeling my hands ready to pull the sword from the sand.

"I-l-love you."

I wasn't meant to hear the words. They were meant for Dusty who she had clearly known before all of this. I can feel my heart ache at the sight, remembering the ways I would stand before Keepers and want to do whatever I can to stop them from taking the orphans who were more like my brothers and sisters away. Love was stronger than the hatred pumping through the veins of the capitol. I stare openly for too long, until my fingers ache to rip the sword from the sand. Eyes glancing from the two of them and back to Joey. Something breaks in my chest as I grind my teeth together for a moment, letting the sun beat down on me. The sounds of blood start coming to life in the arena. Ripping my sword from the sand, feeling like the arena was slowing down around me, I catch Joey's eyes once more, letting my words out.

"Joey."

Holding the sword at my side, I stand for a moment, letting out a calm breath.

"You should grab your sword."

A pause.

"You'll need to protect yourself."

Joey wasn't afraid of me, but she could be afraid of the things happening around us. I couldn't protect everyone. I couldn't be everywhere at once. Soon enough, we would all need to learn how to fight and protect one another. This wasn't like the days in the orphanage where they couldn't defend themselves and I had to step up. No, this was different. Instead, some of us were exhausted from the fight last night, brutally thrown into a fight where we were meant to lose. Others got the rest they needed, unlike us, with bruises and broken bones lingering in our skin. I can remember the lovers having to deal with Keepers, shouting in the mass.

They were like the kids back home who I protected from the Keepers. I couldn't stand by and watch them get ripped apart by the creatures the capitol has set on us. A reaction from a disappointed capitol, disappointed by our actions to not fight. I hate it all. I hate that we have to force ourselves to be on edge, protect ourselves from the creatures and pretend we're okay with it. These animals are just animals, with lives of their own. Innocents like us, but they've struck us like the capitol had wanted.

I don't look back to Joey as I rush across the sand, stepping heavily into it, sinking slightly with every step. The blue sky still lingers above, capitolites and keepers screaming from the stands, blood drips into the sand. I can taste the desperation in the air to not play this game. I can feel the pain in the girl's form. I can hear the sorrow in her voice and I know what I must do. I know what I want to do. I know what I will do. Stopping before them, I linger on the edge, letting them have their privacy. I don't want to interrupt their moment, but in this place, there was no privacy.

Instead I turn around, holding my sword out, staring around the arena, taking in the others. More animals rush at tributes, with their own sounds with them. A cackle breaches the air, heavy and deadly with a certain sound that doesn't quite fit right. My heart starts pounding in my chest, burning with that fear of watching someone else get hurt when I should do something. Watching the creature lash out on the boy, I push forward. The hyena disappears for a moment, until the cackle comes once more as I feel the hyena bite into my shoulder, blood dripping from the wound as I pull back, angrily.

"Stay behind me."

Swinging the sword in my grasp, I keep the distance between the hyena and the others. I watch for a moment as I can feel the air in the pit grow tense. I am going to die here. I am going to leave behind my Nana and the twins. I can't protect them anymore. I can't protect the ones I love back home, but I can at least fight to protect the ones who still have something worth fighting for here. I can feel her pain. I don't know why I feel such a pull towards them, but Nana always said I had a soft heart for those who were hurting. It's why she supported me in helping around the orphanage and protecting the kids as much as she did.

"I'll protect you."

Pushing forward, I know the world is watching.

I hope they'll remember me for who I am.

A girl who wanted the world to be a better place.

I strike at the cackling hyena with the hope that I can help create the spark that'll make the world better.