Broken
Apr 15, 2012 8:48:00 GMT -5
Post by gemmawolf on Apr 15, 2012 8:48:00 GMT -5
[/i][/color][/right][/size][/blockquote]Nee JacksonI'll follow your every move
In a stride that will disguise
Little markings clue the findShe sat alone on her steel bed, tapping the first two fingers of her right hand against the back of her left, not stopping, not focusing - just twitching constantly with nerves. Fleeting golden eyes checked the corners of the musty cell for signs of movement or an impending attack, but all was still. Her eyes flicked back to the centre of the floor, where a dark stain of blood still lay fixed onto the concrete, too stubborn to be removed. Shivering, Nee, looked to each corner again, avoiding the tsunami of thoughts that threatened to drown her mind. Dead. Stabbed in the heart. Gone.Your red lips speak of painted figures
Teeth of mangled little listeners
The thoughts that hide your rusty scissorsLetting out a shuddering breath she gripped the underside of the slab of metal. Hold it together, Nee. But how could she? There hadn't been a sound out of Rowan for days; though it might have been weeks. There was no telling of the time in the cell, as the lonesome buzzing lightbulb in the centre of the ceiling was dimly lit around the clock. Her mind was numb from the disorientation. It was beginning to seem as though her sentence for trespassing into the woods was excessively long, but she had no clue as to when it would end. Doesn't matter, though, she thought drearily. When I get back I'll be mocked and shamed as if I'm a killer. I did nothing that bad, but they won't care.And hooded men
Swinging amnesty across this violence
Obscurity has no heroShe gently lowered herself onto the bed, gasping as her bare arm was pressed into the icy metal. Her head span, so she rubbed her eyes for the little good it did; every inch of her body was aching from weakness. Her spirit had long since been broken. There was simply no more fight. Nothing was worth it. I'm going crazy. What would Rowan have to say about that? He would tell her to relax, and help her to do it, in that special way that only he could manage. He'd ask her to hold out a little longer, then they could go home, and they would be helped; he'd convince her that someone would offer her a job. But he wasn't there. She was alone. So why would anyone give her a second chance? What would they have to gain from it? I'm a criminal now. It doesn't matter if I've never stolen a thing - they won't want me working in a shop. They think I'm dangerous.The world looks better when you're fallen
Braced to comfort and not to crawl in
To find it we must
Pray for the broken
No one to fix us
We are, we'll always be
The wrong!The room wasn't getting any warmer, Nee was certain of that at least. She had heard stories that places went chilly when a ghost lingered. Was Imi still present in the match-box cell? With numb hands, she pulled the blanket off the second bed, desperate for some more heat. But it sickened her, the thought that she had stolen the sheets of a girl who wasn't even cold in her grave yet. She's probably warmer than me, she thought, a little jealousy creeping into the recesses of her mind. It was hard to think that only yesterday that she had a room mate, how people could come and go so easily. All it took was for one of the guards to come to the door and sneer that Inkling Marling, the tribute of District Five, was dead. Will they send her body home? They send the tributes back. Or will she be burnt, or buried without so much as a marker?Your touch seethes of emptiness
Callous tips against the brush
The world's now breaking off to dustAt some point in the torturing days underground, Nee had grown up; she began seeing the world as it was, how it was run, how the rest of her life would pan out. I can't just do whatever I want - the guards will be happy to hear that I've got that into my head; but the rest of my life, from the moment I step foot off the train, will be spent in District Seven. Unless she was destined to be Reaped. Was there really a bright side to life in Panem? It didn't seem beneath the Capitol to fix the lottery for the criminals to compete. Yes, in every sense she was growing up. Cynical before her time.The world looks better when you're fallen
Braced to comfort and not to crawl in
To find it we must
Pray for the broken
No one to fix us
We are, we'll always be
The wrong!How can they all stand by and let it happen? The sudden rush of anger made her want to slam on the door for minutes on end, but she lacked the strength and the willpower to do it, to dare to defy the authorities. Someone, somewhere, must be plotting against them! That's who they're looking for. A needle of panic forced its way through her heart; she wasn't meant to be there, not really. She had nothing to do with a rebellion. She didn't want to be a part of it all....We're conspiring...Pulling the blankets tighter around her fragile frame, Nee thought back to the root of her problems. The image of her father shaking his head sadly as she was bundled onto the prisoner train came into focus. He was the cause of it. What remarks would he make when she returned? "I hope you learned your lesson, Nee?" or perhaps, "What have you got to say for yourself? I'll never forgive him. Never. She could respect her father's morals, she understood why he reported her, but the betrayal ran too deep. Did he know what they had put her through in the prison? He would never have a chance to, because she was determined to cut him off. As soon as we're eighteen, me and Rowan can get married and have our own house on the other side of town. I won't even have to look at his face that way. I'll abandon them all like they abandoned me.Where was your heart
When we needed it most
Live in denial
And I'll be your ghostLet his guilt rot him from the inside out! If she was such a disappointment to her parents, then they could try and bring Maple up differently; raise a daughter to actually be proud of. They could send her off to work long hours in the rain. Have her chop wood every day. Have her put in tessera for extra supplies.There is nothing to let go
Only time will let you know
If you're worth anything
You'll know!She was giving herself a headache. Retreating under the covers to shade her eyes from the flickering bulb, she wondered if running away would solve anything. It hadn't the last time she had tried. All I wanted was a break. Some freedom. But it had turned out completely opposite to the trip planned; she and Rowan were cruelly separated, not closer together. Instead of the seemingly never-ending trees, she faced four grimy walls twenty-four-seven. She should be home by now after camping in the woods, greeted by anxious parents with open arms. But their good intentions of teaching her a lesson had instead resulted in her wasting away in a cell.That I'm
Giving up way too early.
Let the axis turn you free
And destroy everything you love!The Detention Centre was finally putting some perspective into her life. Her 'harsh' life in Seven, with compettitive teenagers, money pressures and the overshadow of the Hunger Games was a haven compared to the concrete cavern that she was currently locked up in. At home, she turned down help, too proud and stubborn to accept it. But now she was begging for it. And now help will ever come, not even when I get home. I'm on my own.The world looks better when your fallen
Braced to comfort and not to crawl in
To find it we must
Pray for the broken
No one to fix usFrustrated, she crawled along the bed and pressed into the dark corner of the room. Soon I can go home, safe and sound and in one piece. Rowan will be with me. He'll make everything all right. Together, they could be happy. The concept warmed her slightly, and to her surprise she began to fall asleep, wrapped in shadow and a dead girl's blanket.We are, We are
We are, We areJust before she went out like a light, a single, terrifying thought entered her mind: What if Rowan doesn't come back?We are, We'll always be
The wrong!
~ 'The Broken' by Coheed and Cambria
