Departure [D8 Justice Building, Solo]
May 20, 2012 15:53:53 GMT -5
Post by rook on May 20, 2012 15:53:53 GMT -5
p a n d o r a + w o o d a r d s
Countdown, Countdown,
Countdown to the disappointment.
I'm yours tonight
.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.
[/color]The haunted face of my twin brother lingers in my mind. The muted screams of my little sister still echo without sound. Even the empty faces of the other children, staring without emotion. People I know. People I knew. It's all ever present in my head. Not thinking forwards, not to my set fate, but back at the numb memory of the Reaping.
My face is as expressionless as when I took the stage a few moments ago. Even without the cameras, lights and false glamour of the Reaping, without the Capitol representative who pretends to enjoy the ceremony... Even without all that, I'm still unchanging in my expression. Shock. Of course I'm in shock, I contemplated losing my sister, perhaps even Rubik for a moment, but never myself. I guess that's how things pan out.
He tried to volunteer. It hits me, the realization that my older twin tried to foolishly step into my shoes. It's always been agreed between us that if either of us was reaped, we wouldn't volunteer. We're two of a kind, dual in every way. To volunteer? It would be unfair on both parties, choosing to step in place of your brother or not. At least let chance decide who would play the game.
It makes me think, as time went on and we grew older, it had been an unspoken agreement that I would volunteer for Rubik. Or rather, it had been a plan of mine. I'm a very selfish and egotistical character, but I care enough about my entire family to know that no more Rubik meant no more of any of us.
The provider.
Whilst we were young and similar at twelve years of age, we grew different, him maturing, me being... Well, me.
In a way, it makes me happy. Happy that I can prove myself for once. All the times Rubik has snapped at me, told me to grow up and do something with my life. To do something other than fool around with girls and eat away at myself. Do something other than watch recaps of classic Hunger Games. Hah. At least I can contribute in that department.
The inside of the Justice Building is large and glamorous. The walls littered with paintings of previous Mayors and famous Peacekeepers. The same walls are painted a dark red. Blood red. Maybe not, maybe death and violence is on my mind, making me see all the relative signs. Maybe it's valentine red, or some crap like that. The floors are too clean and shiny. The lights ahead reflect on the floor, where I'm constantly staring, like a prisoner on death row. The overwhelming weight of inevitability pushes down on my chest, making each breath painful and sore. I keep a plain face; even in here I must get a grip on reality. I can't break.
We enter another corridor. This one has familiar faces on the wall too. The tributes of District Eight. I can name most of them. Not so much the older ones but more so the ones in my lifetime. Jared Strahan, Senia Alexanderson. I had hope for them that year, especially Jared, he looked decent pre-games. Shrol Raidan is the last face I see, looking so young at thirteen, yet he looked so old in the desert arena just a few months ago.
I'm led into a large room, the Peacekeepers give me a nod and leave briskly and without emotion. The large oak doors are closed firmly behind, leaving me in a mass expanse of glamour and riches. Any other time, I'd steal some of the more valuable things in the room, but there's no point in it anymore, I won't be coming back to District Eight. I laugh, but I'm not happy, it's a brief bark of realization. My face reddens, but I stay strong knowing that Hope could enter the room at any time. That's what's going to be hard, saying goodbye to her.
She's safe
Is she? She has six more Reapings. Is she safe? Six years ago I knew me and Rubik would always be best friends. Two months ago I knew I'd spend my life with women and alcohol. This morning I knew I wasn't going to be reaped. And as of now, I know I'm going to die. What will I know tomorrow? These thoughts swim around my head. I do know something for sure though, nothing is set in stone. I'm not best friends with Rubik six years later, I'm not spending my life with women and booze, I was reaped... So maybe, just maybe... I can survive. Maybe I can win.
I'm eighteen, physically well built and fit. I can run fast and hit hard. I can cook well and I've got the charm of a rattlesnake. I have skills. I find myself smiling that I have something... A chance. Maybe it's all I need. It's certainly all I need to hold back the tears and put on a brave face for Hope.
"Pan!!" Hope's voice is a cherubic squeal. She runs in, still wearing her Reaping dress. He charges at me and wraps her tiny arms around my waist. Her face is still red, more crying. It makes me want to fall over and cry, seeing her in this mess, but I know I have to stay strong for her.
"Hey there, Kiddo..." I smile, holding her tightly.
She says nothing, just hugs me. Maybe it's best. I can't make her promises I can't keep. I can't tell her I'll be back, that I'll win it. We both know my odds are slim. Why pretend? I bite my lip and hold my emotions back, staring at the blood red walls. I break away from the hug, knowing that time is short. What did the Peacekeeper just say? I didn't hear, Hope's voice was a brighter tone to my ears. Not long.
I kneel, coming eye level with my twelve year old sister. Tears are streaming down her face, still redder than the walls.
"Listen to what Rubik tells you, he only wants what's best for you..." I say, my voice is croaky and full of emotion, even if my face is as plain as I can keep it. She nods rapidly, emphasizing that she's understood. I smile and push back her hair, before a larger Peacekeeper enters.
"Time's up" His voice cracks the silence.
I say goodbye five more times to Hope, before she's forced out of the doors. My father stumbles in, he looks distraught. Has he been drinking? The stink of chemicals gives me a resounding yes. His clothes are anything but smart. I'm surprised he hasn't been talked to by the Peacekeepers. His old face is full of pain.
"At least you can make yourself useful now..." He says, his voice slurred. Hypocrite. He hasn't done anything for our family in the twelve years since mother died. Who is he to tell me to be useful? I know it's true, but coming from him it's like a slap in the face. I want to punch him in the face, but he's bigger than me and I don't want to cut my chances of winning down any slimmer than they already are. I can see the headlines now: "District Eight Tribute enters 61st Games with broken ribs". All over the Capitol media.
"Will you enjoy watching me die, father?" I ask him, tilting my head and widening my eyes. I practically spit the words with venom. His face is bland, his response is more so.
"No..." There's a silence between us, at least a minute long. The doors open and the Peacekeeper enters.
"Liar..." I smile, before the large man shouts: "Time's up!!", and he's forced out the room.
My older twin is then thrown into the room by an even larger guy. He looks offended, brushing the creases out of his nearly ironed clothes. He turns to me, his face expressionless. He too is red, has he been crying, or staying strong like me? How red do I look? Probably very, considering the anger directed at my father.
"So, I'm going out of town for a while..." I force with a grin, my arms folding in their usual manner when I talk to Rubik. He just shakes his head. He looks distant, lost. I wonder if he's broken. He can't break, not like Dad. He lost Mother, and now Rubik's losing me. Hope will starve. That can't happen.
"You should have let me volunteer..." He says, his voice is as raspy as mine was talking to Hope. I laugh at this, genuinely this time. He frowns, trying to bring me to be serious. I shake my head with a smile.
"You and I know why that was never going to happen..." I state, raising an eyebrow. He still doesn't smile.
Without words, he hugs me, I don't hug back. I just stand, a strong figure midst the emotion.
"Whatever happens in there, don't give up... Don't just die, Pan..." He says, his voice quaking again. I smirk, but then return to a neutral face, "Because that would ruin Hope... You give up, she gives up..." He's crying now, and fights it back without success. Wordlessly, he hands me a wooden necklace. It has a strange symbol on it, two tears converging in equal and opposite, one dark and one light. I wonder if Rubik carved it himself, I know what it represents. Duality. I'm one of two.
The Peacekeeper enters, chiming: "Time's up!" I say it with him, grinning at him. He frowns and I wink.
"Hey Rubik..." I call after him. He turns back to look at me.
"In my sock drawer, there's a book with the addresses of all the girls I've slept with... It could come in handy" I shout as he's pushed out the door. I can't see him anymore, but I hear him laughing. Genuine laughter that I remember from when we were young, when we stayed out all day playing catch or chase. That laugh.
I cry.
[/color][/sub][/blockquote][/blockquote]
narrative
thoughts
personal speech
speech of others
singing
notes: muse, muse everywhere.
theme: "I'm Not Okay (I promise)", My Chemical Romance.
