elspeth dollanganger-goravich, d3

[florentine, district four ❁]

elspeth dollanganger-goravich



district three
sixteen and three-quarters


ex-orphan / obsessed with death / inferiority complex / feeds the birds

vain but in an annoying, self-deprecating way

a broken doll, pieced back together all wrong

[florentine, district four ❁]

tw; infant death

🧚 🧚🧚

when i was born, they dragged me into the world
infantile,  deep blue, depleted by blood-loss
colour seeped from my skin; it was empty and cold
they smacked me on my bare skin
crack
i didn’t scream; i refused 
that was the first time i tried to kill my mother

she persisted, unwavering,
built too strong for womanhood, too broadly
her constitution sturdy
a gift she chose not to pass on to me
a curse she used to taunt me, later
on the day that i was born i died
pink bonnet in a glass hospital crib
ten tiny fingers, ten tiny toes

on the other hand, my sister came willingly
rosy, 
product of a womb that refused to form more than one perfect child at a time

[florentine, district four ❁]

in the mirror i see none of them. 

my sister is a jigsaw puzzle made of mother's eyebrows, father's smile. 
i, on the other hand, am a stranger; i tell myself that i was stolen in the middle of the night, snatched away from my real family, a blessing. my sister is anchored to these people undeniably, fruit of a womb, flesh and blood. although we are the same, something is inherently missing within me. she got everything. did she steal it from me, or free me from it? 

after the first day, i died many times again. a weakling, a changeling, a babe, thrust into the arms of a woman made of stone and diamond, all sharp edges. a drowning, hypothermia, the rose fever, a fall, an allergic reaction, throat closing up. each time i felt the weight of their disappointment, their despair, my weakness incongruent with our family values.

my sister shone. you could almost see the strength of her heartbeat beneath her skin. the sort of girl who would win if she were to get reaped, would bring home glory for our district, would run for mayor and kiss babies and put rebellions to rest.

i thought about starting a rebellion just to spite her. 

[florentine, district four ❁]

we had been wild for a while when they caught me. 

sleeping in places we shouldn't be. she had started feeding the stray dogs. i took to the birds instead, scattering crumbs until a hoard grew and i became queen of something skittish and temporary and hungry.

she was better at it than i was, of course, better at all things. she took the death of our parents like news of an unfortunate but ultimately expected rainstorm, and weathered it like she'd needed the water, anyway. 

i, on the other hand, was playing a game i could not keep up. there was relief, when the peacekeepers dragged me from the rotted corpse of a house we had been sheltering in with the dogs. but although i hate her sometimes, i would never betray her. 

"you living alone in there?" they asked me. 

"yes," i answered, keeping her secret.

then they gave me a new name, affixing it to my existing one as though i needed even more to carry around with me. goravich. it was the first thing i've ever had that she didn't. 

[florentine, district four ❁]

i am many things, now. 

i still feed the birds. it drives them crazy, the other lost children. sometimes, they try and shoo them away, ada and haddie and norris and the rest.

"let them be!" i plead, when they do. 

i visit maude, whenever i can. she is the version of me suspended in time, trapped in the in-between, a shadow of my old life that haunts my new one. sometimes i think if she wasn't there, crouched in the dirt handing scraps to the strays, i might forget who i used to be all together. 

as it is, though, there are always whispers.

i saw you, all the way on the other side of the district. 

i wish, sometimes, that i could say: it wasn't me! it was her! 

but me and her, we are entwined in a contract of sisterhood, and i must uphold my end of it. i have become a liar, even here within the walls of the towering, beautiful house that has somehow become mine. i know that i recieved this end of the deal because i am not strong enough to be outside, and so therefore, i must be in. 

some days i wonder if she died, whether i would receive all of her strength. maybe my eyes would suddenly flash with my mother's knowing gaze, and all of my deficits and my perpetual dying would finally end, and i would be a whole person, instead of the lesser part of one, destined to play my role as a supporting character, chained and tethered to her even now. 

once, a dog in the street mistook me for her. 

[florentine, district four ❁]

it is easy to grow into the big house. 

it fits me in ways i did not expect. i think that i must sleep on the floor, curled in on myself like a flower doomed never to bloom. klaus stacks mattresses and encourages me to try every one until i find one that fits. i think that it will make me soft, decay the hard outer layer i have been building to resist against bad things, but i find myself crawling into it anyway, and i sleep soundly. my nightmares lessen, i reluctantly admit defeat. 

i think that i must not let the other children in. they could never ever understand. and yet - the scratch at the door i have closed until i let it come ajar and together we can whisper through the crack. their secrets rival mine, their stories make my story less alone. i can never tell them about maude, though. not klaus, not atlas or penelope or the other children, not any of them.

i stuff my breakfast into my pockets to feed the birds, later. maude asks where it comes from; i lie. i think she can see right through me. she does not need to speak out loud for me to hear her spitting in the faces of the victors and mayors and fools that provide my pocket money. it is dirty money. it's better to die than to to live on your knees. she spits in my face, too, by extension. 

my knees have been bloody and bruised from the day i was deposited into this world by accident, surplus to every requirement. i don't have the strength to stand. 

i consider kicking the dogs. i don't like the way they look at me. i can't even do that, though. i can't even look them in the eye. 

[florentine, district four ❁]

eulalie blake 1a 🍒 tris

[eulalie blake 1a 🍒 tris]

lich^{(emphasis on lich)}rally perfect.
i adore her!