We Fell Down [closed]

[Stare]

Dysis Admea



They rise and laugh and watch me fall,
And then they are foolish and think themselves tall.
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I glance up at the sky, my wide eyes two pools of perfectly still torquoise. Pale gray clouds blend together, forming a large area of colorless sky. Not to far away, approaching from the horizon slowly, are dark storm clouds. They advance like lonely monsters, growling and rumbling, nearing closer and closer with every minute. I don't dare climb trees today- while I don't expect the clouds to burst any time soon, it would still be risky and dumb. Standing at the top of a tall tree, I would be like a human lightning rod. I've never been struck by lightning, but my mother knew someone who had been. She said that while they were lucky enough not to die, they lost most of their vision and memory. She made me promise to never climb trees during a storm, and I obeyed. Even without that promise, I still wouldn't.

Not even my mother knows how much I hate storms. At night, when I hear a cloudburst begin, I pull my covers over my head and bury my face in my pillow, desperately trying to block out all of the sound. Lightning and thunder is even worse. Whenever I see lightning split the sky, I cringe, backing away and trying to find someplace- anyplace- where I can't see the sky. It's not uncommon for me to scream when I hear thunder. For some reason, all of those things terrify. They make my heart race and tears prick at the back of my eyes, and all I want to do is run away. But I never can. It arrives and leaves when it wants to, and I can't control it or escape it. It's all around me, getting louder, filling the air and the sky, getting worse, closing in...

I lean against a tree, squeezing my eyes shut and letting out a sigh. I reach up and dig my fingers into my scalp, parting the blonde hair in an attempt to push the memories and vision of lightning out of my head. Who would think that I girl who's not afraid to jump out of trees would fear thunder storms? I force new memories into my head. Memories of falling, and climbing trees, and clinging to a rope swing in the pure summer sunshine. After a moment, my hand drops away from my head, and I open my eyes again, almost feeling better, but not completely. My other hand moves away from the rough bark of the tree, and I push my weight forward, continuing through the trees and doing my best to ignore the quickly darkening sky.

Why would I come out right before a storm, even for my rope? It was a bad idea, but when I realize it had fallen out of my backpack, I panicked. I search the ground for it, trying to find the long, fraying shape. I spot a few stones hidden in the grass, but not the rope. I look up, trying to find the tree I jumped out of. Instead, I see only dark sky, the blackness coming even closer. I feel my heart begin to pound again, and begin to quicken my step.

Suddenly, my foot catches on the root of a tree. I let out a short gasp, falling forward. My knee hits something sharp and hard, and I let out a cry of pain, laying on my side and gripping the area that was hit. I yank my pant leg up to my thigh, searching the pale skin on my knee. At first, all I see is a thin red line. But the blood begins to rise out, and I give a hiss of pain, watching the red gather and drip down to the ground. My eyes wander up toward the sky once more, and I sigh, closing my eyes for a moment and trying to think. Instead, my ears are filled with the sound of the whistling wind and... another sound. Something like... footsteps.

I attempt to straighten my leg, but wince before I've even stretched it out half way. Again, I think I hear something like footsteps. If it hurts that much to straighten it, how am I going to stand? I look around, but can't see anyone. "H-hello? Um... is anyone there?" I hear a distant rumble, and my head whips up toward the sky in fear. "Please? Anyone? I-I... I think I need some help."

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[insigniatic]

SHEKAINAH BRUOMER

beauty; will it ever be given to me?
xOxOxOxOx

The sweet morning breeze greets me as I step out of our house, my two brothers behind me. Green, dewy grass tickle my feet while I walk bare footed towards the small shack a few meters from the door. I pull out my boots and hold a hatchet in my right hand and a jug of water in my left. My brothers and I take turns in doing chores, and my work today is to bring in lumber. It never really mattered to them, sending me--a girl--off to go lumbering, but it never mattered to me either. The woods was a place of peace for me, where I could spend some time alone with my thoughts.

I wave goodbye to my siblings as I step into the forest. The trees were still of few number and sunlight warmed my cold, pale face. I walk on, my feet familiar with the weeds and dirt that I step on. Each bark of tree I pass through are as natural to me as the scars on my arms and legs. Moments later and I arrive to a small clearing. The surrounding trees, or should I say, stumps, form a small line in front of me. I walk towards a tree and touch the brown bark. It was about 9 feet high, the trunk was thin enough to be finished by late afternoon. I grab my hatchet, but before starting my job, I gulp from my jug, and look up. My blue eyes squint as I see clearly the open sky above me. It was going to be a warm day.

I swing my hatchet as strong as I can and hit the standing bark before me. A thousand times, I have done this, but like every moment before, I can feel a sense of relief as the sharp blade hits the trunk. It is here where I let off every pressure and anger I feel to the world. It is in this moment where I feel almost beautiful.

I blow away a strand of blonde hair that falls to my eyes, while my hands continue to swing the tool in a rhythmic beat. My brain flies off to when I first held an axe in my hand. It felt so overwhelming, to finally be able to help my family out. My father stood proud by my side, as he slowly taught me how the jungles where my friends, how they were the reason we still had food to serve on our table. And so it became my first dream, to be able to contribute as much as my brothers were. To be strong, because in the world we lived in, the weak die—and I wasn't ready for that.

My pale eyes then focus on the tree I continue to massacre. The brown hard bark finally gave in to the softer, but still sturdy, flesh inside. I loved the trees, but I didn't mind cutting them. Is that normal? I ask myself, as I feel my hands burn from my tight grip. Could you love something yet be so ready to throw it away, or was it just me? I sigh, but now hold the hatchet with my other hand for support. Soon enough, I was hacking away, mindless of the sweat that was now enveloping my entire body. My mind becomes blank and suddenly, nothing else in the world seems to matter but the small tree that I was now almost a quarter of a way through. The sight of how much I still have to cut starts to frustrate me. I seem slower today.

Minutes later and I stop. I put down my tool and only then do I realize how exhausted I am. My feet bring me to a stump and I crash down on it, panting slightly. I reach for the jug beside me and quickly gulp down water, the cool liquid refreshing my burning throat. It was at that moment that my eyes drift to the sky and I stop in surprise. The once clear heaven was now covered with dark clouds, threatening to pour down more water any minute soon. Had I really been working that long?

I don't really mind the rain, but I don't want to get sick either, so I quickly carry the few items I brought with me. Now the question was where to go? The path leading to home was too far, and too muddy once the rain would come falling down, so instead, I make my way to the opposite direction. I follow a path leading to a part of the forest where the trees were so thick, even rain could not make it through the covering leaves and branches. I almost run, mindless to all the other things around me, until a sound from my right halts my movements. My head quickly turn to the source of it, and I can make out a voice. My mind hesitates, should I proceed to shelter myself first or find out what was wrong? I decided on the latter and made my way quietly to the racket.

Vines falling from the high trees obscure my vision, but I can still make out the figure of a girl. And by the way she was calling out for help; it seemed that something was wrong. Worried, I move the vines away and the whole scene registers in front of me registers in my head. I knew the person, or at least, heard of her. Many people from the town talk about her, they say she's crazy, and even my mom believes that to be true. For who, she says, would throw herself down from trees? Right now, though, I could only focus on the blood flowing from the deep wound on her knee. "Hey!" I shout out, suddenly running to her. My legs crash and I find myself kneeling beside her, confused on what I could do to help. "Wh-what happened?" I ask frantically, my eyes darting to her wound.

[Stare]

Dysis Admea



Tripping out, spinning around,
I'm underground, I fell down.
Yeah I fell down.
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She seems to materialize from the trees. A few branches catch on her clothes, but they are ignored as she swoops down next to me, suddenly on her knees and staring at me with wide eyes. At first, I'm shocked into silence. She could be my sister. She has the same light blonde hair, the same pale skin. But her eyes aren't torquiose, like mine. They're a pale blue color, blocking out anyone who wants to try and see her emotions. I've never seen her before, although that is nothing new. People have been avoiding me ever since I started leaping from real heights, and perhaps they are right to do so. Right now, staring up at the trees that tower above and claim the black sky, even I can't imagine any sane person leaping from their outstretched arms willingly.

But now is not the time to be considering my lucidity to reality and danger. The rumble rolls through the trees, an oncoming monster that wishes to come and destroy and leave. I can almost picture the lightning flashing, creating one splitting second of radiance and shadow that dance on the ground and in the air before plunging back into incessant darkness. I just hate the way that it comes without anyone's invitation, and there is nothing I can do to make it leave. The clouds, unrelenting in their moments of true power, refuse to obey. They will stay for as long as they want, inundating the world in water and sound and light. Perhaps it is the fact that a thunderstorm drags all the senses down into a world of unpredictable fear that makes me so afraid. It's not like the prodigiousness of freefall. It's something terrifying.

I've been afraid of thunderstorms for as long as I can remember, although the source remains rather eclipsed to me. Sometimes, when a storm is really bad, I have flashbacks. They are brief and unusual. In them, I stand in a place that seems very familiar. The trees are huge, though. Bigger than any trees are in this district. And the rain pours down, soaking through my thin shirt and causing me to shake, while thunder fills my ears and lightning splits my vision. I can smell something burning, although there is no fire. Not even smoke. And I wail, screaming at the sky, with tears pouring down my cheeks and mixing with the rain which refuses to cease. But just like that, it will end, and I will be huddled under my covers again, crying just like any other storm, clutching a flashlight with one hand and squishing a pillow into my ear with the other.

No one knows, though. Not even my parents or my teachers. I never told anyone. Something inside of me continues to tell me to keep the fear reticent, or... or what? The thought always stops there, and I am left confused but silent. The unknown threat scares me enough to keep secrets, although spending those dark hours hiding in bed are far from pleasant. There is some part of me that keeps on trying to tap into misty memories that aren't there. That is not a huge part of my personality, though. I don't dwell on it very much. This only surfaces during a storm. The rain hasn't started, though. There's nothing to be afraid of. Yet.

I look into her pale eyes, trying to reassure her that I'm okay even though a wail wishes to escape my lips. I yank my pant leg up farther as it begins to slide back over the wound, gently stretching the skin and wincing. "I tripped on a root and hit my knee on that rock. I... I think I'm going to need help getting home. It hurts to move it, and there's no way that I'll-" I stop abruptedly, catching the words on my tongue. That I'll get home on time. There's no need to tell this girl of my fear. "...be able to stand on it on my own. Do you think you can help me?"

Thunder growls again, low and insistant, and I stiffen, dread creeping on my face. I immidiately wash it away, and replace it with hope and relief that this girl is here to help me. I point to my pack, which isn't to far away. Since I was only carrying it on one shoulder, it flew off when I fell, and a few of the contents in it fell out. Most of it is snacks and stuff like that, but I do have supplies to treat rope burn, which includes bandages. "There are some things in there that will help."

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[insigniatic]

SHEKAINAH BRUOMER

beauty; will it ever be given to me?
xOxOxOxOx

Now that I'm closer to her, I notice how pretty she actually is. It was hard to believe that someone who seemed so delicate would leap openly from trees. For the moment, I'm tempted to forget her condition and ask if she really did what people say she does, but thankfully, my mouth remains shut. Looking straight to her eyes, I see the clear turqoise of it, and I also see how it widens in slight surprise. Maybe she wasn't expecting somebody to come her way. Still, I was thankful that I took the detour, for what would have happened to her if I didn't pass by? Not that I had done anything useful in the moment.

The blazes of the grass I kneel on tickle my knees and I shift my legs into a more comfortable position, just as a low, deep, sound erupts from the once peaceful sky above me. I look up, but quickly gaze back at the wound on the girl's knees. My brows furrow in concentration as I try to understand how the girl had got the wound. My first thought was that she might have done one of those crazy exhibitions my mom tells me about, and gotten herself in this position. Well, talk about messing something up. And if that was really the case and she still continues dropping off from trees, then let the injuries come.

I mentally slap myself for thinking something so negative. When I see someone in need, I usually just try my best to be of help, and not go drifting off to silly thoughts. But again, I think to myself, I've never encountered someone who I would consider even stranger than myself. Breathing deeply, I look around again and spot the root of the tall tree sprouting out from the ground. Then something seems to click in my head. She must have stumbled because of it, I conclude. Yes, it seemed more logical.

Just then, another loud rumble fills the air around us. I again look up to the sky and spot even darker clouds than before. If it was to rain right now, then things would become really bad. I remember once when my brother got a long cut on his arm and rain fell upon it. The next day, the wound got infected and even started bringing out dark green pus. We never really understood what the cause of the infection was, but to this day, I still strongly believe that it was from the rain water. Thinking of the circumstance always managed to give me goosebumps and I started to fear on what to do with the girl.

I become too focused on my thoughts that I even jump when she suddenly speaks. Her voice is rushed and nervous, that for a moment after she stopped talking, I could only stare at her. Then the words she said finally register in my head, and I nod in response. So one of my guesses was right, she really did trip. I open my mouth to respond, but before I could, she points to something a few meters away from where we stood. I only then notice the backpack lying on the ground, open widely. I see a few contents near it, but only one of them stands out in my mind. Bandages. Again, I'm stuck between transporting her to a safer ground, or taking care of the wound first. In the end, I stand quickly and run to pull the bandages, along with the dressing that fell beside it.

"I'm not really good with medical stuff, but I've seen the local doctors do this to injured people before. I'm sorry if it hurts." I say to her, while first covering the bleeding wound with the dressing. Yet another rumble erupts from the sky, and my hands work even quicker to roll out the bandages and secure the dressing in place, my fingers careful not to touch her skin. When the wound has been completely covered, I only then realize how sweaty my shirt and head was. Breathing deeply, I calm myself and address the girl again. "How is it now? Do you think you can move?" I ask her, as I move away to collect her other things.

[Stare]

Dysis Admea



Upsidedown and I can't stop it now.
Can't stop me now.
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For a moment after I speak, nothingness fills the air. It's an eerie quiet broken only by the sound of the wind flying through the branches of the trees, causing old leaves that never blew away during the fall to tumble across the ground in a race that has no end. A few of the weaker trees that were more recently planted sway in the gusts, and the clouds come closer faster, until they are close enough to make my breathing shorter and faster. I stare at her face, frozen in a mask of slight confusion. Is she deaf? Why doesn't she seem to understand? I feel my heart beginning to pound again. I called for help, and was relieved when this girl came, but what if she can't help me? What if she does understand, but now recognizes me as the insane girl who jumps out of trees, and doesn't want to help me?

Then, in a single moment, I see her face relax in slight understanding, and we both melt out of our statue still positions and into movement. As she goes over to my bag, I lean back slightly, angrily swallowing down the lump in my throat, because pain has never made me cry before, and I've never shown fear in front of another person in my life. I am strong and if I could, I would stand tall. I'm the girl who loved to leap and fall when she was little, who thinks rope swings are magical, the girl who laughs and dances under golden sunshine, the girl who dives out of trees. I will not show weakness because of a storm and a cut. Pride drives away the tears and the lump, but I know they will rise again, so I become stiff, like stone once more.

When she treats the wound, I do my best not to hiss. I bite down on my tongue, holding in any cries of pain. My torquoise eyes follow her every move, stoned over to prevent any feelings of agony from showing. At one point, I nearly jerk my leg away from her. The muscles near the gash become tense, and I do my best to lock every bone and tendon so that the next time pain shoots through my knee, I won't move away. For a moment, my eyes move away from her hands and lock on her, watching her eyebrows draw together in concentration. A slight wrinkle appears in the middle of her forehead, exactly like the one that I get when I'm extremely focused. I still can't believe how similar we look, although she is far prettier than I am.

As she goes to collect my stuff, I gingerly stretch out my leg. It's sore at first, which gradually swells into a stinging pain that rushes up and around the knee. As she comes back, I look up with wide eyes, my finger gently gliding across the snow white bandages. Thunder rolls through the trees, all too close, and I momentarily melt out of my pride and cringe, looking up at the sky. The clouds are gathering, becoming thicker and darker, turning District Seven into a place of faint, dancing shadows and swaying branches. I love this district, and it can be beautiful. When the wind whips through the trees on a sunny summer day, there is a sudden movement of green in the canopy above, and birds flutter from their perches into the sky. Sunlight sluices through the gathered branches above, lighting the grass up in a radiant green fire. But at times like these, when storms are approaching, it can look terrifying.

"It still hurts too much to walk on," I say quietly, fighting to keep my voice calm. "Do you think you can help me to a shelter where we'll be safe?"

((OOC: I am SO sorry it took this long to post. DDDDDDDx))

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[insigniatic]

SHEKAINAH BRUOMER

beauty; will it ever be given to me?
xOxOxOxOx

For a moment, the deafening roar of thunger is all that fills my ears and in that split second, I am taken back to a memory of the past. It seemed like I was back there, seven years ago. I could see clearly the small bunny that stood a few feet from me as I sat by my brother’s axe. The sun was up high, it was the middle of summer. The heat that filled even the air would have tempted me to take off my thick jacket, but luckily, I was sitting below the thick leaves of a maple tree. The shade it gave me was enough to keep my top on, my brother would have disagreed though. I watched as he removed his already wet shirt and used it to wipe ever more sweat that filled his body. I smiled. I had been wearing thick clothes for so long that the condition of the weather didn’t seem to affect me.

The brown bunny’s eyes did, though. I had always been attracted to animals of any kind that it seemed only natural for me to jump off the grass I was sitting on and approach it. Now that I think about it, I realize this was where the particular memory had occurred. I stand for a while to check my surroundings. Yes, there was the big maple tree I sat by before. I follow its thick trunk and I gaze upwards to its thick leaves that sheltered me from the sun before. Unfortunately, I know now that it can’t do the same with rain.

My attention is brought back to the girl as she speaks to me. “I agree,” I nod back. “Well, I-I think I’ve been here before,” I say aloud, but more to myself. I try to figure out if the memory was true or if it was just a dream, and close my eyes. Then the flashback continues. The rabbit jumps back, frightened by my sudden movements. I could see fear in its eyes and I sensed its natural instinct to want to run away. “Bourke!” I shout to me brother, “I’ll be back in a while,” I tell him as the bunny humps away and I ran to chase it. I don’t remember now why I wanted so badly to touch its brown fur, but I do remember how it moved on and on and how I stumbled to catch it.

Finally, we came to a point where the animal shoots itself into a burrow. I back away, disappointed, until I notice what looked like a brown wall to the side of where I stood. It seemed to blend it with the surrounding trees that it took me a moment to realize it was small shack. The small house seemed to creak with neglect and abandonment that I step away. I could see that it still seemed sturdy, though, but fear of what darkness lay inside forced me to walk away and find my way back. Luckily, I traced my path back to my brother.

“There’s a small shack about 40 meters from here. I think we can get there before it pours, because I don’t think we have any other options. The next house is so much farther away,” I explain to the girl. For a moment, I hesitate. Was the girl strong enough to walk in an injured leg? I shake off the thought. If she could jump off trees, then she could definitely walk to the shelter. “Come on, we better move now if we don’t want to get wet,” I say, again hesitating before I secure my arms around her and help her stand.

OOC: PM'd you about this. Soooo sorry.

[Stare]

Dysis Admea



Is this real? Is it pretend?
I'll take a stand until the end.
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My heart pounds so hard against my chest that it almost hurts, pumping cool adrenaline through my veins as I slowly stand, balancing most of my weight on the uninjured leg. For a moment, all the confidence that was drained when I heard the thunder approaching returns, and perhaps my pale face becomes a little less so. Even the smallest of accomplishments can save my mood, and my parents often would play this to their advantage when I was littler and lost a game or scraped my knee. But small accomplishments can't solve big problems. Just because I stood doesn't mean I can go on and skip home, or use magical powers to hold back the big bad storm. It doesn't change the fact that I'm still hurt, with a complete stranger as my only aid.

I gaze at the girl tiredly, with defeat beginning to surface in my turquoise eyes. I frown, trying to tag a name onto this girl. She's in my grade, and I know I've seen her in the halls, but I've never had a class with her, so I cannot place any specific importance to her. Maybe she's shy and quiet, like others I know. Or maybe she doesn't go to school- that's not very unusual, either. I glance up at the now aphotic sky, uncertain. She's a stranger to me. My mother says I'm not supposed to talk to strangers, let alone trust one. But right now is an emergency. I have to get out of the rain, and I'm hurt. For now, I'll just have to hope that she's not a murderer or kidnapper and go with her, whether I want to or not.

It's not unusual for me to have doubts at first. Why shouldn't I? Because I'm different, people say I'm 'weird'. A horrible word that should have never been invented. My passion leads me into an area where I cannot safely share my secrets or speak my mind, because these ideas will be stolen, twisted, and released as brand new monsters that suddenly wish to hurt me. I can surrounded by others- it makes no difference. I am seperated by my love of falling, and singled out to be teased more than anyone else. Kids think it makes them oh so great if they pick on the odd little girl who thinks she's a bird. Anyone who I've ever confided in eventually turned on me, so I've learned to avoid unneccesary trust. It only leads to red hot betrayel, anyway.

I guess it shouldn't bug me that they call me those things. After all, they don't get to love something in the way I do. They don't get to jump off of high branches, feeling their spirits soar free as they plunge down, with the sun on their faces and the wind blasting against them. When I fall, I feel unimportant. Like a simple speck of dust blowing in the wind, small and powerless. And, oddly enough, it's a good feeling. Like there's no thought or feeling except for the joy of just being there, feeling it all come together after one graceful leap, and oddly enough, I don't think about the hitting the ground. I only think about the pouding in my chest and the familiar feeling of excitement as I close my eyes and allow everything to just happen.

I wish I felt like that now. But unfortunately, I'm not falling. I'm not free. In fact, I'm the exact opposite. Stuck on the ground, trapped by mother nature. Not even the Capitol can stop a storm, and as a hear the thunders loud crack and feel the world around me tremble, my eyes become round, and my breathing stops for a heartbeat as I take in the fact that we'll never make it in time. Even a few seconds in the rain sounds terrifying to me, and I turn my gaze toward her, finally letting the stone facade melt as my pride vanishes and I am left with nothing but pleading eyes. Suddenly, I don't care if she realizes my fear. I don't care if she tells the world. Let them taunt me- all I want is to get out of here. She would have seen me sobbing in the shelter anyway. "Please. We have to go. We have to go now."

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