moving past the fear.— [six/avriel]

a v r i e l .

"We forgot to talk about Heaven
And leaving
And what it would mean
And how I would grieve"

Probably the first thing Avri ever learned how to do was take a punch. Nine isn't kind, no matter where you look and Av spent his first few years of school scrapping in the yard at recess. No matter how many kids would come back in from break with bruises or a bloody nose, the teachers would always look away.

What were they going to do? Tell a classroom full of kids that they didn't need to know how to fight?

It felt like the closer the reaping loomed, the more frenzied his classmates would get. Some of the tougher kids started taking it out on the weaker and Avriel was eight years old when he decided that he didn't want to be that. Scrapping was bothersome, even then he was happier figuring out shortcuts and Avri would set little traps for the other kids. Tripwires and pitfalls were his forté and got him sent to the principal's so often they stopped notifying his parents.

And the tough kids always wanted payback, Avriel had learned through a lot of practice. The moment he'd understood the trick to getting hit was the moment that kids had stopped hitting him so much. It's not fun when your target doesn't cry right?

Avriel is taking a break from taking hits when he sees Six, the kid from Eleven possibly doing his best to become invisible.

"Hey," he says to him. He looks like he could be Duke's age, "You're doing it wrong, stop cowering and let me show you." He doesn't owe this kid anything, hasn't spoken to him once, but he can only hope that if Duke is ever reaped, some older kid takes as much pity on him.

"Don't run from the hit, take it," Avriel says and he gestures at his trainer to hit him again, "Use your legs to take the blow."

Avriel drops his body a bit lower and holds his arms up in front of him, elbow to elbow and vertical to protect his face, "Protect your head, always, you take a hit too hard there and you're toast."