Sleepyhead*** [Kayyyy]

[arx!!]

And you said,
it was like fire around the brim
Burning solid, burning thin the burning rim
Like stars burning holes
right through the dark

I hadn't planned on staying out so late to be perfectly honest, but it seems that the pumping bass lines and sweaty bodies have this addicting trait that pulls me in and refuses to release me until I have satisfied that part of my mind that screams for some fun. As most everyone knows, I'm always craving fun, so I'm always getting pulled in. But one could say it's just in my job description. I sell drugs from my own family garden, I have the body of a goddess (Seriously, I mean it. I'm not just bragging about nothing.), and, um, did I mention I sell drugs? Highest quality cannabis in all of District 4. Or at least that's what I like to say. Helps the business further along, y'know?

And it's true. I sold quite a few dime's for way more than they are actually worth and traded the rest amongst the regular crowd for other things that are just 10 times more fun than one little spliff. But I think I will wait on the fun little pills that my main man said would, "expand my mind beyond all boundaries." And as much fun as the sounds right now, I think I will just stick to my own little joint and a nice stroll along the beach under the stars. Because the last thing I need right now is to lose control, even if is is in order to expand my mind or whatever. Such poetic bullshit. Apparently he thought I was stupid. I know perfectly well what "mind expansion" means. It means when I stick this pill in my mouth and swallow I am going to trip so hard that I will be tasting colors and feeling smells. I think I'll pass. For tonight at least.

The ground is cold on my feet, bare now that I carry my stilettos in my hand rather than having them strapped to my feet. My purse is slung over my shoulder with all of the funds I happened to acquire tonight hidden inside and a lollipop is in my mouth (yes, a lollipop, not a spliff - shocking I know.) My eye lids have begun to droop despite the fact that my heart is still beating fast beneath my ribs. It seems the late hours plus the seemingly endless amount of boys to grind on has finally taken its toll on me now that I am walking the streets alone. I suppose I should've thought this through, going home earlier to avoid this situation, but the fact of the matter is I really don't ever think. Don't judge me, I'm only young, only a poor little orphan girl trying to have a little fun before I have to grow up and learn the ways of adulthood. I scoff at the thought, scanning the shoreline for the house I'm looking for.

I have only traveled through this neighborhood a few times in my life. Why? Because everyone here has perfectly ironed, starchy shirts, a tie for everyday of the week, a necklace laced with pearls, a gold watch for each wrist, rings for every finger, and of course some special brand of cologne or perfume to wear. And they live in beautiful waterfront property. Where as I wear the same outfit almost every night, care nothing for rings, and only own one necklace which is only some cheap seashells dangling from some fishing line. I don't even wear it all that often. I do live on shore front property though. At least if you consider a big beached ship with no electricity and no running water a house. I know I do. But I can see where someone from this place would see it as a dump where dirty, stupid, drug addicted orphans happen to make their home. Well, most people from here. But I know someone who sees it almost as a haven ... or something like that?

I've been to his house before. Well, sort of. I haven't actually been inside or within even 100 yards of it, but I watched him walk through the doors and I am sure he lives around here somewhere. I had gotten really confused the first time I followed him to this neighborhood, having figured he was just some bum who wanted the weed to waste away his hours in a haze before he died in the streets. And we get random people like that visiting sometimes and I don't usually look into it all that hard. But this boy kept showing up, day after day, night after night. And it wasn't just for drugs either. Some days he would just show up and then leave after sitting in the garden and talking for awhile. He was, shall we say, a security risk. So like the fabulous older sister and guardian that I was, I followed him home just to be sure we weren't messing with some crazy psycho killer or someone who wanted to sabotage our little business. And then he walked into one of these big, pampered houses and all I could do was smile.

It seemed we had a rich boy on our hands.

I'm still a bit uncertain if I approve of it, but he is nice enough and just adorable so telling him to buzz off or leave us alone just seems completely unnecessary. Plus, he is just so much fun to tease. I know, I know, it's a tad cruel to toy with his affections like that, but I don't think he seems to mine too much. He, like most boys, likes to chase and chase and chase and then, when the girl falls into their arms, claim that it was all of their good looks and charm that won her over. What no boy knows however, is that I cannot be caught, not by anyone. At least I don't think so. But where is the fun at when everyone knows that little fact about me? That's right: Nowhere. It falls away to reveal the real guts of our universe and we die seeing nothing but the horror and terror in everyone's eyes and the wretched dump we live on. Without fun, we are no longer blind. And without blindness, we are forced to see the world as it is. Death ridden and hell bound.

So, blind fun it is. I shiver against the chilly breeze that comes off the ocean and feel a smirk crawl onto my face over the lollipop in my mouth as I see the house not too far away now. I start to run then, barefoot and surprisingly excited for a bed to sleep in. Or that's what I am hoping for. It's dark but I can still see pretty well with the street lights shining so bright. The grass is wet and cold with dew and when I look just a little further, beyond the well cared for lawn, the sandy beach and rolling waves of the ocean call out to me. And for a moment, I almost consider abandoning the plan to crash here for the night and just sleep on the beach under the stars. But then another bout of cold air swoops past me and I shiver again, craving to disappear beneath a blanket and dream of a better place. But just when I am about to turn back to the house, my eyes catch movement on the fishing boat that the family obviously owns.

I smile as I get closer, the boards of the dock creaking beneath my feet, the breeze blowing my hair in my face, and the waves beating hard against the shore. I fold my arms, fighting hard to keep the cold away from my core and the heat inside me. When I'm finally close enough, my knees threatening already to give out beneath me and my eyes so heavy one would think I was trying to hold the weight of the world on them, I call out, removing the sucker from my mouth. "Hey! What's a girl gotta do to get a bed around here?" I say, smiling my best smile.

Flicking fire
like saltwater into my eyes
You were one inch from the edge of this bed
I dragged you back
a sleepyhead, sleepyhead

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

There are few quiet times of day in District Four along the waterfront. The moment the grey light illuminates the morning fog, fishermen are on the docks, preparing to cast off. And they only return when they absolutely must, as the sunset leeches color from the sky, leaving behind the stars by which to navigate the cold. The more they fish, the further out they must go. Sometimes the fishermen are gone for days at a time, returning at odd hours of the night. While the Hops home had a certain beauty to it, the illusion of tranquility had been shattered for him long ago. There was no rest to be had in District Four, no more so than any other, despite the appearance of privilege.

So he made his own tranquility. For his sixteenth birthday, his parents gifted him an older model of their yacht, and renamed it in his honor. Elite Catch had its own moor along their dock, and he was free to come and go in it as he pleased. He loved. He had instantly tasted freedom, in the form of sea salt spray. He had been totally enamored with it for a week. And then reality sunk in. He had to clean the hull weekly, scrub the floors and empty the trash. If the sails were punctured, he would have to sew them back together. He’d tried to convince his parents to expand his spending allowance, now that he had such a great responsibility. But they had just smiled and told him what a lucky boy he was. He’d felt stymied and tricked. In one of the stupidest forms of revenge, Elite had moved most of his possessions onto the small yacht, nearly sinking it. He managed to eek out an existence for a fortnight before conceding defeat. There would be no living on the boat, and there would be no living without it.

He’d found an equilibrium, spending some nights on it and some nights at home in soft bed with a ready shower. Life was not so hard, after all. And once his allowance had been generously upgraded for his eighteenth birthday, he could afford the two things he loved most: keeping the boat clean, and visiting Catalina. She had become his favorite luxury, his most expensive habit. And he felt no remorse. That’s how Elite knew she was more valuable than the yacht, which now rocked him gently from side to side. He’d stretched out on the padded bench next to the helm, to watch the sails and stars dance with each other. It was a cool night, peaceful, the sounds of revelry in the distance. The crashing surf on the nearby beach would drown it all out soon, and he could sleep.

The boom swung, gently at first, and then around the mast as the winds changed. Elite blinked, the haze of sleep clinging to him as he hopped up to secure the boom in its new position. He had the line in his hands, ready to tie it down, when she spoke.

His jaw unhinged, the rope ripping from his grasp, and the boom came swinging at him. He yelped, stumbling back just out of range of the metal tube. He scrambled after the line, clambering over the vessel. He dove for the rope, hauling it against his chest. The boom snapped to an abrupt halt, the wind filling the sail. “She can start by giving me a hand!” Elite yelled, hauling the rope in. “I need this anchored, before the wind pushes us ashore. Take the line behind me.” He positioned himself on top of the living quarters, his bare feet pushing down into the boat, his hands raw from handling the line. He flicked its tail towards her. “Don’t wrap it around your hands. Just in case.”

An image of her wrists broken doubled his determination. It was only as he hauled, trying to take the boom back from the wind, that he realized he had never seen Catalina on his family's estate. Not once in all the years they had known each other. He smiled, in spite of the effort, in spite of his screaming muscles. "You must have been somewhere awfully boring to come and find me."

[/justify]

[arx!!]

And you said,
it was like fire around the brim
Burning solid, burning thin the burning rim
Like stars burning holes
right through the dark

So maybe it wasn't the best idea to show up without an earlier notice because as soon as I call out to him, I am yelping along with him as he narrowly escapes the swinging boom. (Well, shit!) It hadn't been my intention to show up here and kill anyone. I still have a place to sleep, right? Never mind the fact that I nearly knocked him unconscious. I'm sure there isn't any hard feelings as he scrambles across the deck to scoop the back into his hands.

The rope and sail snap taut as he catches the rope in his hands and the wind gusts into the sail. “She can start by giving me a hand!” I run down the rest of the pier, pushing away any thoughts of cold that had been pressing my mind earlier. I toss my shoes and purse in the boat before flicking the lollipop into the water and leaping onto the deck myself. This is one of the nicest boats I have set foot in. Besides rowboats (and of course a beached boat) this is the only boat I have set foot in. “I need this anchored, before the wind pushes us ashore. Take the line behind me.” But most as many citizens in District 4, I don't like to admit that, so I swallow my awe at how nice it is and grab the length of rope that Leet flicks at me.

“Don’t wrap it around your hands. Just in case.” I had planned on imitating him, but seeing as I have specific directions, I unravel the rope from my wrists and begin to pull. But even as we begin to pull, getting closer and closer to our goal, I'm certain that I am not actually being of much help. Not like that is anything new. I've never been of much use to anyone except the druggies of the district anyhow ... It's a wonder how Leet could even think of me as helpful at this point - I mean, unless he feels like getting himself hurt?

But even as we he pulls and we make slow progress, he is smiling. "You must have been somewhere awfully boring to come and find me." And in spite of all of the effort I am putting into this I have to laugh. In all honesty, it had not been boring at all - in fact, it had been a fun and rather productive night - but this sudden turn of events has made this a bit more entertaining than expected. And I didn't find him boring or anything either. He's just ... different. He likes to talk to me. Most boys I associate with whisper sweet nothings in my ear, ask to take me home, or, better yet, don't say a single word and just dive right in.

That was my life on a fairly regular basis. Stay up late, get high, drink 'til I drop, kiss too many boys, wake up on the beach, and repeat. It was much simpler than mourning the dead or watching children. It was nice to shake things up and talk to someone. Unfortunately for me, my ability to have an intellectual conversation had gotten much harder since I was younger. I've trained too long in the art of body language to sound like much of a real person anymore.

But at least Elite allows me the chance to try.

“Yes, terribly boring,” I manage, though my muscles have begun to ache. “I didn't have the opportunity to ruin anyone's night at the club so it was rather dull compared to this.” I smile so that he can see I'm kidding as we finally manage to pull the rope to where he needs it in order to tie it down. I sigh and make my way over to where my shoes and purse have landed and plop down on the deck.

I rummage through my purse and pull out a rolled joint, offering it to him with a small smile on my face. “Sorry?”

Flicking fire
like saltwater into my eyes
You were one inch from the edge of this bed
I dragged you back
a sleepyhead, sleepyhead