//. warehouse scarehouse [lise&ivy]

[florentine, d4b ❁]

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( B E H I N D A N A M E ) Ivy Soren
( S U G A R A N D S P I C E ) Female
( J U S T A N U M B E R ) Seventeen
( L O N G W A Y H O M E ) District Nine

Thinking
Emphasis
Talking
Normal

( L O O K I N T O T H E M I R R O R )

As I begin to drift away into sleep, I hear Indi's breathing somewhere close to me. I like it, the steady sound of it reassuring me that she is there. If the breathing wasn't so solid and consistant, I'm not sure if I could sleep myself. It's cold, very cold, as winters always are here in District nine. I blink around the room, checking that everything is in it's place and as it should be. Sleep comes to me quickly, for my bed is warm. My dream is one that comes to me often, almost every night since I was eleven and the things took place. Maybe it is because of how starling it is, but every single time the dream plays in my head it is entirely the same, to every detail and every thought. I only have so many words to describe it. Yet there I am again, sleeping yet so conscious.

I have never been in a room so grand as this one, for I swear even it's pillars are made of hand-crafted gold. There is a chance that this shimmering, shining metal could be bronze or simply plated gold, but to me it is rich and beautiful, and nothing can take that from me at this moment. It is not just the pillars, which stretch miles and miles to the ceiling, but the entirety of the expensive perfection. I notice the little things that make up the whole - the engravings in the wood that paint perfect pictures, the swirling and marvellous patterns on the ceiling, carved and painted so exquisitely that you might think you are in the Capitol itself. Maybe it is these luxuries that make the room feel so grand to me, but maybe they are not. There are other things here, things far more dignified than paintwork or expensive metals - people with such an air of authority about them that one could be forgiven for thinking that they are on par with President Snow himself. There is a feeling of mystery about the place, as though anything might happen within these four walls. Maybe at last, justice will be served. I gaze around - the room smells damp and a little musty. I doubt it has been used for some time. Perhaps crime is not something often committed in District Nine. The carpet is soft under my feet, and I walk a little uncomfortably in my new plastic shoes. I feel as though I don't fit with the place that I am standing in, not at all, but I keep walking. In truth, the room is quite small in proportion to most, but I have no way of knowing this and I look around myself, trying to take in every single detail of the place, every texture, every feel, every smell. For the first time in all my eleven years I left my sister out of my sight to gaze in total awe around me, breathing deeply. I can feel my mothers eyes protectively on me, her youthful face keeping track of my every move. I know for a fact she didn't want me to come today. Didn't want me to know of every terrible detail of my past. But now, seeing the room, I am glad that I came. It will be the last time I see my father before he is taken away, and I want to see my Daddy. I want to slap him in the face and scream at him for everything he has stolen from me and my family. But there is one thing he gave me, whether mama wanted it or not. He gave me life, and he gave me Indi. So I slide into my seat and bite my lip and clutch my sisters hand and watch as the Peacekeepers escort Daddy in. I feel a whole mix of emotions swirl around in my mind. I feel afraid, I feel lost and alone and elated and oh so very scared, all at once. There are no words to describe the feeling at the root of all my problems. No words to say how very wrong it felt to do what I did only days ago, how much betrayal lurked behind my father eyes when the peacekeepers took him away. Now I cannot bare to look at him, for I know, deep down, that what I did was right. What he did was wrong. I saved Indi, and I saved Mama and I saved myself, and it is only because of him that we needed saving to start with. So I sit and I wait for the trial to begin, with all these emotions swirling around my body. Emotions that are completely illogical and wrong but I know Indi understands so I let myself feel. I don't know what I'd do without Indi, for without her I would be alone in the world with my own thoughts and nobody to tell me that I don't need to hate myself for what I have done, and that I don't need to love myself either, because she loves me enough for the both of us. I sometimes wonder what my life would be like right now if there was no Indi, if I had been born all alone and lived that way, with only mama to look after me. I wouldn't be here, for sure. I would still be imprisoned because I wouldn't have her to save.

I shake myself awake from my dream, breathing deeply. I remember that day do often when the sun is shining, but mostly I go to the courtroom at night. Usually I wake up before the verdict is called, as though my mind doesn't want to see what I did to my father all those years ago. Now is the time, though. It's midnight, but I know now is the time to return to my home. I slip out of my bed, glancing at Indigo to make sure she is still sleeping soundly in the bed across the room. I pull on my clothes, sure to pack a jumper and a torch, and slip out into the night. I'm good at this, going unnoticed. It's my thing. It's not hard for me to pick my way up the stone path, marvelling at how far we have come in six short years. I take a deep breath of cool night air and begin to walk.

I walk for hours, until I can tell that it is almost three in the morning. I hope Inigo doesn't come after me. If she wakes up she will know where I have gone, but by then it will be too late. I look at the warehouse in front of me. Suddenly I don't want to see my home again. I want to turn around and run back into the night and cry, but I press on and swing open the door. Footsteps are coming from somewhere behind me, and I jump violently, instinctively moving into the shadows where nobody can see me. It's a girl. About my age. Pretty. I take a deep breath, glad I brought my knife. Why is she here?

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