Children of the corn [Plot]

[Deleted]

[bg=343431][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, border-radius: 0px 0px 45px 45px;][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=style,width:450px;] Walking has become such a natural part of my life that I can’t stop doing it. We are constantly moving, so much that I can’t even feel my feet anymore, as blistered and bruised as they are from the pain my sandals have put them through. Still, I take a moment to be extremely thankful for the fact that I didn’t wander into these woods wearing heels.

[/i] My nightmares, which previously consisted of horrific images of Kormiko, now consist of…well, the horrendous effects of walking: walking into glass doors, walking off of cliffs, walking into a pit of snakes. I can’t be more relieved by my newfound ability to walk off the real pain and forget.

Sometimes Rum Tum and I talk and sometimes we don’t, but surprisingly, I like the moments when we don’t talk just as much as the ones when we do.[/i] I’ve never felt comfortable in the silence, having always needed to fill the air with my constant stream of words. However, being around Rum Tum makes me realize that there’s something special about the silence; it speaks what mouths can’t. Even so, I still manage to be the noisiest creature in the woods, tumbling over every branch in my way. Of course, I couldn’t leave the carnival behind without hauling along the twenty-pound music-playing machine that Rum Tum had found near the carousel. There’s only one disk, but I like to play it over and over and over again as I stumble through the forest, humming quietly[/i] – although quietly is quite a subjective term – as it rotates beneath the little needle that feeds it life.

I don’t know much about music, but I like the way it makes me feel, how it can drag you back centuries in a matter of seconds. The song the big music machine plays isn't exactly the kind of music I'd jam to, but it's enough to keep my head occupied.[/i] The only musical experience I ever had was piano lessons, and those didn’t last long, mostly because my teacher, Miss Selena, never gave me stickers for practicing! I also tried playing percussion in our school’s sixth grade band, partly because my mother forced me to get involved and partly because I wanted to stand behind that annoying little Tommy McClure, crashing cymbals until his ears fells off. [/i]However, since I was the only female percussionist, I was constantly stuck playing the stupid glockenspiel while all of the boys got to use the big bass drums. Five days and I was out of there.

I can only imagine how highly Rum Tum regrets allowing me to bring this machine, but whatever. He can deal with it. “Keep up, Freya.” It’s all I ever hear. “Freya, keep up.” “C’mon, Freya.” “Keep moving, Freya.” “Let’s not be so slow, Freya.” Ugh, sometimes I just cannot stand this boy. When that happens, I move the needle onto the disk, turn the handle on the side, and play the carnival song for the three-hundredth time, hoping it will get on his nerves enough to shut him up.[/i] “Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yeeeet?” I whine like a child who’s been sitting in the car for far too long, but my eyes light up when I see a set of wires through the trees. A fence! I run to it, even with this clunky thing in my hands, but the excitement stops there. “Yeah, this might be a problem,” I say to Rum Tum as I realize it’s turned on. I mean, this is District Eleven; it does have the best security. I think about the tributes in the hunger games, the ones who find ways around things like this day to day. What would they do? I gaze up and down the tree in front of me and assess my only options. Am I really going to do this? [/i]

“Looks like we’ve got to climb our way over,” I tell Rum Tum. Too attached to give up the music machine, as easy as it would be to put it down, I stash the disk into my satchel, which I’d taken from the carnival, and hold the machine beneath my left arm. With my right hand, I grab hold of the first branch, but it takes about ten minutes before I’ve made any progress.[/i] Slowly, I climb up the tree, stopping every thirty or so seconds to put down the music machine before gripping it again. I finally reach the branch that stretches over the fence, and I carefully climb it but quickly realize that there is no way I’m jumping off of it, not from this height![/i] However, now that I can see from atop, I spot a place further along the fence that has been dug up enough that I could probably slip under but…peacekeeper![/i] I don’t know if Rum Tum is still at the bottom, but I have no way to warn him of what I’m seeing without giving myself away. I hope the darkness does enough to conceal me as the peacekeeper approaches the fence with a walkie talkie. “Movement spotted just outside the fence,” he says, moving even closer to the woods in order to get a better look. He doesn’t seem to be looking up; whatever movement he caught was below the treetops. If Rum Tum is still down there…[/i]

A thought runs through my head and I lean forward on the branch, my heart racing and my hands shaking as I try to find a good position.[/i] I’m probably about to do something utterly stupid, but I’d rather not watch Rum Tum get his skull bashed in. Or mine, for that matter. I move forward another inch, hold the music machine in front of me, and then I watch as it slides from my hands, down, down, down, sending the peacekeeper to the ground with a crash.[/i] Immediately, I retrace my steps back down the tree, but my legs are weak and my whole body is shaking because I have no idea what I just did. “Rum Tum!” I whisper, until I’ve found him. “C’mon,” and I clutch his hand like a lifeline, pulling him along to where I’d spotted the gap between the ground and the fence. I get down on the ground and climb through, waiting for him to do the same before running to the point of the fallen peacekeeper.

I don’t even know if Rum Tum witnessed the entire event. I pick up the broken music machine sadly, the hornlike part having detached from the disk player. The needle is bent, but it’s a miracle that the box is still intact. My whole body is shaking as I look at the peacekeeper. If it weren't for his helmet, he would be dead, but he only seems to be unconscious for the moment. Thank goodness.[/i]

Once my trembling has died down, I lean over the unconscious body, dig my hand into his pocket, pull out his wallet, and stick it into my satchel. “What?” I say, looking at Rum Tum. “I need to buy some new shoes.” Now that we’re actually in the district, all I want to do is get out.[/i] We were about two inches from being caught, and what would happen if we were? Most likely they would assume Rum Tum had kidnapped me from the Capitol – it would be the easiest notion to accept without killing one of their own[/i] – and I’d forever have that guilt to bear. ”We’re untouchable.” Kormiko’s voice is so clear in my head, but this isn’t like our little playtime in the Capitol. They can’t harm me, they can’t harm Kormiko – although I’m not too positive about that anymore – but they won’t have any trouble harming Rum Tum. “C’mon,” I say, “Let’s get out of here,” and I quickly rush far, far away from the scene with hope that Rum Tum follows.

I turn into the corn fields, concealing myself within the stalks as I make my way through, hugging the remainders of the music machine tightly to my chest. For a moment, I swear I’m hearing voices and curiously, I move towards the sound. I stop just as the edge of what seems to be a small clearing in the midst of the tall corn. There are people, actual people, talking and conversing, but mostly just drinking, even though all of them, except for maybe one, seem to be in their adolescent years. Happy tears gather at the edges of my eyes, only because it’s been so long since I’ve seen another human being other than Rum Tum, though I’m still not sure I would go so far as to call him a human being.[/color] A boy and a girl leave the group, and I quickly retreat further into the corn as they slip past. I look at the three remaining and study them, all so different from the District people I saw in my school books. They're talking about kissing or something. "Rum Tum, I think..." I look behind me but Rum Tum isn’t there. I sigh. Where the heck is he?! Did he fall behind?

So with as much patience as I can muster, I wait a couple more minutes for him to catch up. In the mean time, I let my curiosities go wild as I invest in some good old stalking people-watching from my place in the corn. But that gets boring because all they're doing is sitting on the ground and talking, so I instead attempt to piece the music machine back together again. Maybe if I put the horn on this way...and the needle on that way...and it's a little crooked...but it might work! I'm so invested in fixing the music machine that I've forgotten about the group of people over there. I pull the disk out of my satchel and put it onto the music machine. I smile at my repaired work. Now where is Rum Tum? I look around and...oh there he is, moving closer to the group of people. I lift the music machine and start moving to catch up with him, but my elbow accidentally pushes the little needle onto the disk and suddenly, music fills the air. Oops.

ooc: edited the end.

Template/header by Raseri <3

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[zakattack]

I could tell I the wine was having its desired effect as the world around me seemed slower and more relaxed. The urge to turn and kiss Deval was building up inside of me stronger than I could explain as we wandered through the darkness. Emery would have to understand.

[/i] As much as I hate that girl looking at Emery, when she looked at Deval I hated her more. He was mine. I knew he hadn’t asked me to be his girlfriend, but he didn’t have to. Just like everything else between he and I there wasn’t a need to say everything. Reaching out I grabbed his empty hand and laced my fingers through his. The effect was instantaneous, the comfort and relaxation. There was a perfect simplicity of the action and the emotion behind it. My hand belonged there just like Deval belonged in my heart.

Pulling him closer to me I took another drink of my wine knowing that if I finished this the way Deval had downed the booze that I’d be three sheets to the wind, yet I didn’t care. Deval would protect me, he wouldn’t take advantage or hurt me, he was different. My thoughts dart back to the special gift I had thought of giving him and with the booze and the lust flushing through me I couldn’t help but want to offer myself to him. But once again fear takes over and instead I pull my hand away and thrust it into my pocket pulling out the little bundle with the bow. The words come out a little more slurred than I want but the flush in my cheeks is fueled by more than wine, “It’s not much…just something I thought…well I don’t know if you’ll like it but…I just…You’re important to me and I wanted to give you something special.”[/color] The little note reading:

To always find your way back to where you belong.

Forever,
Asha

[/i][/center] is crumpled against it and I cringe hoping that when he reads it that its not smudged and still legible.

Taking a deep breath I look up at him and chew on my lip and open the jar tucking the lid into my back pocket. The words start spilling out before I can catch them, maybe it’s the booze, Its totally the booze but I can’t help myself.
“Deval I really like you. More than I like other people. You’re not stupid or...”[/color] my words falter as I bring the jar to my lips and chug a large swallow trying to put my mind in order. Just touch me. The thought of his rough hands against my skin is all I can think of as I lick the bitter liquid from my lips and I don’t know if I can keep myself from touching him much longer. Faintly I register the rustling of corn near us and I wonder if its Emery or Sampson come to pull us back to the party and I pull the lid out of my pocket and seal the jar before placing it on the ground. This time I swallow hard and on my way to stand up I reach over and pull him to me letting our bodies press against each other, my hands find their way around his neck and I push myself onto my toes and my lips move to his.

This time its different than the kiss on the hill, there’s a drive behind it that makes me want to do it over and over again like the girls talk about in their not so secret conversations. I’m not sure if that’s what he wants but I can’t help but pray to whatever Gods are up there that he does too. “There’s more to your present if you want it,”[/color] I whisper as I move my lips to his ear wondering if he feels the same. When I open my eyes I feel the strange sensation that we’re not alone anymore and I cling to him and almost whimper “Deval there’s someone watching us. I can feel it…would Sampson follow us out here?”[/color] I’m not sure if it’s the darkness or the adrenaline that’s playing tricks on me but a pit forms in my stomach as I search for the answers. As I start to ask another question music fills the air and I gasp and snuggle into Deval's arms hoping he will protect me once more


(OOC: the present Asha gave Deval is like This but it works.)
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[Deleted]

RUM TUM TUGGER

----
'Cause I want to live like animals
Careless and free like animals
I want to live
I want to run through the jungle
The wind in my hair and the sand at my feet
----

I think about how I’ve pushed past the end of my world, and how the two of us have come to District Eleven. From the moment we’d left the beach, I’d wondered about the strength the two of us had to take on the journey. My own heart was heavier than I expected, filled with a patient expectation that—what?

[/color] That all of this would be some grand adventure, scaling rocks and running through trees into the open arms of my brothers. I think it over as my boots track through the mud, my body aching from the long march we’ve had in the August heat. Sweat drips down my brow as I listen to Freya. She’s not saying anything, a change from her rambling, and I think about the gaps we have, filled with silence. It’s so much more, to travel with someone that knows we don’t have to speak to belong. At night sometimes I’ll stay up with the fire still burning and watch her drift to sleep.

I don’t tell her that I’ve started to think about us traveling together in the same way that I thought of—well, that my mother and I traveled. The days would blend together back then, and I’d hold her hand through rainstorms and up crumbling causeways. There was—a prickly feeling down my skin and into my stomach when I looked at Freya. Even though the months had worn her capitol clothes and she could fuss over what I knew (or didn’t know[/color]), I felt myself wanting to store away more and more of the moments we had together. Just like the bits and pieces I collected in my backpack, I tucked away the times she would smile at me, the times I explained what roots were good to eat and how to watch the shadows, or she what internets were and how you could send a message to a person with just the press of a button. Here and there I sprinkled memories, locking them away like beautiful prizes I’d had just for me.

A part of me recoils at seeing the fences of District Eleven. Reality sets in as sure as the falling night that we’re here and that this is what we have been searching for. Are we there yet?[/i][/color] I barely look up from my spot, chest heaving at seeing the same fence from years ago. Yeah, this might be a problem.[/i][/color] I nod in agreement and turn my back to make toward a set of trees. Freya ambles on without me, before I can even mouth for her not to. I wonder sometimes who’s leading whom with the way she seems so certain of the path in front of her. She doesn’t even stop to think of what might happen without looking both ways, and it’s all I got not to yell at her in front of the fence where it’s likely someone could hear us. She settles on a tree with her blasted music box and starts making her way up while I slink around the other side to keep watch. I let out a whistle to her when I hear movement, and it’s clear from the crackle of a radio that we’re not alone.

In truth I haven’t thought much about what they would do to me if they caught me. Is it simple to think that things would just work out the way that they’re supposed to? All things happen for a reason, even if it’s not the one that we imagined. It’s not fair that way—having to depend on someone else’s reason for living the way you do. I stare up at Freya, now almost out of view, and to the man on the other side of the fence. I crouch, and wonder whether or not he would tear the two of us apart if he knew how far we’ve traveled and why we’re here. I imagine I would still get a thwack across the head and be dragged off to who knows where, but it’s not for long. A clattering noise pulls me back into the world and I see her music machine dented and damaged, but no worse for wear than the peacekeeper himself. My mouth hangs open. “Freya!” Is all I muster out. If anyone saw, or if anyone knew! They’d hang me in a minute, who knows what they would do to her. And it would be all my fault, dragging her out to this District as though she was some natural born wanderer.

But the way she runs, calling to me—I wonder if I’ve lost something in my mettle. We scramble underneath the fence and into the corn, night hiding us like stars behind a cloud. I keep running. I let out a laugh as I pick up speed, the corn smashing past as I trample onto the soft earth next to Freya. I move to slap her on the shoulder playfully before dodging into the corn. She disappears from view just as soon as I hear voices, and I skitter to a stop. Torches blaze in the distance, and I can smell the smoke. They’re hushed, but I can make out more than a few. It’s then I see the ones sitting together, sipping at something and whispering. A big boy, a wild haired girl, and a little one. I take another step and shudder. Voices off careen off to my left, and my heart starts to race. I wonder if all this is a mistake (who’s to tell what they think of wanderers[/color]) and I move to crouch in the corn.

I told a couple friends to meet me out here…[/color] Do I look enough like a Districter to pretend, if just for a night? It’s one of the crazier notions that fills my head as my heart pounds in my ears, and I let out another laugh. I part ways through the corn and move toward the figures on the blanket, but not before clearing my throat. As I’m about to speak, another chill rises up my back and to the top of my head. Her music machine.[/color] The creaking, clanking gramophone spews out the discordant music and I hiss at Freya. “Off… off! Freya. FREYA!” My voice is still low, and now I can feel that all of this was wrong. It’s a bad idea, sneaking up on some kids in the middle of field to partake in fun that isn’t ours to have. Least of all the racket the music makes, I’m stone faced and wishing I could hit Freya upside the head. The darkness and the corn have me reeling, and I push through a few more stalks before tumbling down next to the blanket.

I hunch over before sitting back on my butt in a huff. It’s then I see the little boy’s face, eyes wide and mouth open. In the flickering of the torches he seems pale, and his breath booms out heavy. “Hey buddy, how are—” But there’s no chance for me to even get out a hello. His screams light up the night and send a grimace across my face. I move to wave my hands in front of him, up onto my knees. “N-no, it’s okay, it’s okay!” I say as I lean forward. He only screams louder, even more high pitched, curdling my blood and nearly shattering my eardrums. It is then he starts pounding his little fists against me, first my shoulders and then my chest. I act without thinking and grab onto his wrists before shoving him down hard onto the ground. “Quit! It!” I say with a growl. “What is the matter with you?!”

He screams again, and then lets out into a whimper. I look down at him, my hands on his wrists and body tucked against his, and then to the others around me. There’s no way this situation could get any worse.[/color][/justify][/blockquote][/size]

[Sampson]

Fingers laced together as she pulls us through the corn, I can't help but grin. The short distance she wants to travel through the field suddenly feels like an eternity because she's holding my hand again. It's only a couple minutes, but amazing minutes they are. I enjoy the way her small palm presses against mine and how we're not sweating as much as we were the first time we ever touched. It's different than that first night; it's more comfortable, less cautious.
And then, we're suddenly stopped. She draws closer to me and takes another swig of the wine (maybe for some more liquid courage?). What's going through her mind? I can hear her breathing so close to me over the sound of the breeze ruffling the stalks of corn that submerge us in an ocean of crops and shadows. Her cheeks flush as she lets go of my hand, slurring out some words about the present she's offering me for my birthday. I'm pulling off the bow of the little, bundled up present. “It’s not much…just something I thought…well I don’t know if you’ll like it but…I just…You’re important to me and I wanted to give you something special,” she's so nervous, even as my face lights up a wide smile at the sight of the gift and the words that come with it. A compass tie tack, the size of a coin, sits in the palm of my hand, pointing straight towards Asha.
"It's really great, Asha," I reply, fully ready to lean in and kiss her into silence, but she has to say more. Why is she so nervous? It's just us.
"Deval I really like you. More than I like other people. You’re not stupid or..." she explains with hurried, slurred words. I'm relieved by them. Putting my heart out there, hoping for the best, was terrifying. I just don't think I ever really thought Asha would turn her back on me, but her saying what I am to her seems to settle any of my uneasiness. I slide my gift into my pocket as she puts her wine jar on the ground.
"Well, I'm glad you don't find me stupid," the laugh that comes out of my mouth is my attempt at making her feel a little calmer. She needs to know that there is no pressure to do anything, be anything, for me.

Distracted by the sound of something moving in the darkness of the corn, I don't even realize how close Asha is until she's pressed against me and her hands are tangled around my neck. Then her lips are on mine and I'm hungry. Not for food or more alcohol or anything except for the girl named Asha Corto. She's stolen a kiss, one full of surprise and desire. I want to grab another kiss, as payment for the one she has just taken, but she whispers into my ear. The way her lips feel near my ear, her breath hot as she speaks, makes me shudder. My head is swimming and I can barely make out the next thing she says through the foggy cloud of lust and alcohol formed in my mind. "Deval there’s someone watching us. I can feel it…would Sampson follow us out here?" her words make me
blink drowsily, as if I have just awoken from sleep. I turn my head slightly to listen to what she's talking about. Making out the noise in the distance, my heart feels like it explodes in my chest.

Suddenly, as the sound of Sampson screaming carries through the corn, I am not Deval. Asha is not Asha. We are not in the corn. I'm suddenly Pyrian Keeni, with Elodie Magpie touching my chest before she begins pulling the knives from my bloody back. My eyes look at Asha as if she is as deadly and treacherous as Elodie was in the Games. Numbing confusion and slowly mutating anger replaces the cloud of ecstasy I had previously.
"You tricked me. You got me here so they could get him... Sampson... my only brother I have left," my words are slow, for I'm just beginning to figure it out myself. I tear away from Elodie, consumed by the sound of my brother screaming. "Ivy won't get him too. I swear that on my life, on Benat's," I'm yelling, roaring, as I go charging towards the clearing where I left my brother. Corn stalks smashing into my body as I run, my world is a blur of what I feel can only be betrayal. Asha has pulled me away, seduced me, in order for them to kill my final brother. Why else would he scream like that? I find the answer to that question as the clearing comes into view and I see the assailant holding onto Sampson by his wrists as he whimpers weakly. It's no Ivy Soren, but I assume he's just as dangerous. Fight, Sampson, fight. I can't lose you. I beg as I run straight for them, as I prepare myself to defend Sampson. Grabbing the dark-haired stranger by his shoulder, one hand spins him around while the other draws back in a fist.

My arm freezes in the air; I can't bring myself to hit Benat.

[Raseri]

”The summer’s gone too soon,” Sampson tells me, taking a drink. My head bobs up and down in agreement, causing the cornstalks to swirl and sway in my vision. That stifling hot day at the watering hole seemed like yesterday, but the nights were getting colder, the lack of warmth from our tattered quilt drawing me and Desmond closer in our bed. Soon it’d be too cold to be planting and harvesting and we’d all be bundled up in warm clothes and going back to school to stick our noses in books. ”Just feels like the games started, but the heat’s going away soon. Grown a full inch too. Maybe I might even be as tall as you soon.”

”Maybe,” I reply thoughtfully. Benat had been tall, I remember. Sampson mentions something about how Asha likes making trouble, which doesn’t seem to fit the image of her I’ve developed in my own mind; but then again, I am learning tonight how little I actually know about her. I hadn’t thought that she’d be here, but here she was nonetheless, prancing off into the corn to do who knows what with Deval. The thought gives me a sick feeling that makes me reach for another jar of something that will make me think less about it; it’s the wine this time, rich and dark purple and I don’t really care, as long as it makes me drunker.

”Emery,” I say/slur with a head jerk/nod to the girl. She totally ruins my attempt at keeping Sampson on the sober side and hands him a full jar of the wine, smiling and then talking about Asha, how she and Deval were probably kissing and boyfriends and whatever. I don’t listen to much of it ‘cause she’s just saying what’s already in my head, so I swallow a little more wine and lean back on my elbows. Maybe Asha never liked me in the first place, and I was just misreading signals. Girls are hard to read, after all. I could just be getting all worked up inside about a thing that was never really a thing, and in that case, it’s all my fault for bringing all this upon myself. Makes me feel 12 kinds of stupid. What am I gonna do? Ask her about it and look like a total fool in front of her and everyone else?

Maybe I should just let her go for now, I think, Dyani’s lips catching the attention of my reddening eyes as she asks Sampson about kissing girls. The last thing I wanna do tonight is let my emotions get in the way; I’d much rather get drunk as a skunk and celebrate with my buddy Sampson here, and Dyani, even though I barely know her. I wouldn’t mind getting to, though, I think fleetingly, as she is a pretty girl and Asha is seemingly taken. It makes me wonder for a second if it would be easier to just run off with this stranger and forget about Asha, but then something in some part of my mind—it must have been one of the bits the alcohol hadn’t gotten to yet—reminds me that I didn’t want to forget about her. Not right now anyways.

Another shadow plops down on his next to the blanket, and before I can check whether it’s Asha or Deval or another new guest, Sampson lets out a shriek that makes my blood curdle and my breath catch in my throat. Confusion floods my features as I wonder what in Ripred’s name he could be hollering for. The stranger’s grabbing onto his wrists, just trying to calm him down, and I’m sure the liquor must be screwing with my system somehow, getting into my bloodstream faster since I’m drinking it fast on an empty stomach. That thought is the only thing keeping me from joining my voice to Sampson’s in a frightened yell. Because Benat Izar has been dead for a year.

thinking, doing, hearing, ”saying,” other
{ooc- sorry sorry sorry and gah I hope this makes sense I’m going to bed good night}

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[Deleted]

Sampson Izar

[/color]

•••

And it's beginning to get to me
That I know more of the stars and sea
Than I do of what's in your head
Barely touching in our cold bed

•••

Fate. It’s the sticky sweet thing that got us all stuck together. We was born in District Eleven, and we’ll—by the judge of it—die here, too. People fear it, on account of not being able to forsee it, and others run from it (because they got a notion in their head that they’re fast enough[/color]). This is the thing that determines whether or not the coin lands heads or tails, not the wind or the weight of the coin. Shoot.[/color] In all my nights praying to the stars, the biggest ask I’ve had of Benat has been to protect us from what we have to face. I guess people might think I have a lot of fear, and maybe that’s rightfully so. Because I don’t see fate as no old lady plucking strings and wagging her stubby finger. Naw, she’s got a bow and arrow over her shoulder, and she can track us in the wind. She’s faster’n a blink of an eye. One little breath is all it takes for her to be here and gone. Cause Fate? She’s a hunter of men.

We got a good beat going when things get into full swing. Even though I’m stewing and Deval is off with that tramp of a girl, it’s still nice to be in the shadow of Emery. I’d like to rest my head on his shoulder if he’d let me, but I know better’n that. Instead I listen to his grumblings, and watch as the older kids go about sipping the rest of their dark liquor. For me it burns awful down my throat. I think of all the men that turn to the drink when their wives die. They got long, sad faces with life etched as though someone took a chisel to them. Does my face have lines from Benat’s passing?[/color] I take another long drink. Leaning back onto the blanket, I listen for the crickets. Orion hovers overhead, and I can feel the urge to have Deval near me growing. It ain’t right he spends all his time moping, brooding, or hanging with other people.[/color] What about the time when we were three stars, all in orbit together?

I miss the times when we would wake up on a cold morning in the winter, and we’d fight over who’d get out of bed to help throw wood into the furnace. Or when Benat would light a candle and make shadowpuppets on the wall. He’d tell a story about princes and kings, and all sort of fabulous magic. Deval might have snickered at his silliness but the three of us hovered—three stars burning bright—together. I miss slapping Benat’s cheeks to wake him up, and grabbing him by his shirt cuffs to shake him. He’d let his head roll from side to side, and little drops of drool would slide down his chin, like he was stone cold asleep. I take another long drink before setting it down.[/color] I had thought all this missing would have gone away as much as his name had faded from everyone’s lips. But that’s the thing about death, we don’t get to disappear. The pain turns to emptiness, until it’s all we’ve got left. I cling to this emptiness ‘cause it’s Benat now; he’s my emptiness that hurts but lets me know I haven’t forgotten him.[/color]

I look at the sky. Orion burns and I close my eyes. I can’t say that I pray for anything special. I know it’s selfish, this constant wishing. We can’t change fate. I think about Benat, and wish he could be here to drink and tell stories to all of us. I think too of how he’d tell me not to worry so much. He’d say I didn’t have a right to be angry at Deval, just as Deval had a right to be with who he wanted. Because fate isn’t about change. Fate’s about standing tall and doing your best to figure out how to make sense of it.[/color] ‘Course I say that like it’s so easy to just forget about how I feel. Sometimes I don’t want to face nothing. Always seems like I’ve got to understand something new, rather than just sit on a blanket and stare at the stars. The wind picks up then, and I shiver. I hear the sound of—music? I blink, looking again to the corn. What kind of troublemakers has Dyani brought with her?[/color] It’s then a figure plops down next to the blanket, and I turn to scowl.

You know that feeling, when your whole body freezes, and you feel like the breath’s been sucked out of your chest? I look at the boy’s face in the light and I can see—it’s all I can see. Eyes brown as the fresh warm earth, hair curled and tuffed in the front, a smile with a set of straight white teeth. The pushed in, Izar nose. I wonder if it’s the drink that’s done it to me. A cold rushes down my back and their hair stands, my body now hunched. I open my mouth and from the bottom, from some deep and dark place that I had never knew existed, I let out a yell. I scream with all of my might into the air, and he’s waving his hands at me but I yell. I yell like that’s going to shatter him into little pieces. I yell as though this demon, this vision of my dead brother isn’t my imagination but some horrible prank by one of the awful districters that was jealous Deval was having a birthday party.

But his hands wrap around my wrists and I crumple like a sack of potatoes. I scream but the air’s all used up. I whimper as he holds me down, bigger’n and stronger’n and rough, just like my brother. I wonder if he’s there to do me in, that maybe my brother’s come because it’s my time to go to the stars, but then Deval is there, pulling Benat off me. His fist is cocked and I wait for him to strike. The moment passes, and I let out a noise again. It can’t be him.[/color] I sit up. I do the only thing I think I can, which is as wrongheaded as anyone could imagine. I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my head against his back.

“Not Benat, no, no… not Benat…” I say with all the courage of a wilting flower. “Deval don’t hit him, just… don’t hit him…” He smells of burnt wood and sweat, not of the fields. All the same I squeeze him tighter. “Let him be…”

•••

Are you beginning to get my point
That all this fighting with aching joints
It's doing nothing but tire us out
No one knows what this fight's about

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•••

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[zakattack]

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The wine started to give me the familiar foggy feeling as I scooted closer to Emery (who had only just slurred his name out) as he kept staring off into the corn like he could will the other girl to come out and be with him. But she never came, and I was right here. And better than she’d ever be for him by the sound of it.

[/i][/color] Letting my fingers inch over they brushed against the back of his hand before setting on top of his letting my spider like fingers slip into the spaces between his with a blush. ”You got strong hands...”[/color], I whisper with a giggle. He had a strong everything, arms…smile…body…I couldn’t take my eyes off it the way he couldn’t take his eyes off the corn. That girl had him smitten and she probably didn’t even know it. ”You know she ain’t coming back…but I ain’t going nowhere. ”[/color]

The whole thing was a lie, I’d probably enjoy a tussle in the corn with him, but if I’d ever see him again I couldn’t promise. When you’re young whats the point of pair up and pretending like you’re going to spend your lives together. There’s not much life to live out here in District 11 anyway… For a moment I debate just pushing my lips to his and letting him figure out the rest but I get the distinct feeling that the little boy next to us wouldn’t be so impressed with the show. Instead I raise my brows ”Better drink up kid, you never know when big brother’s gonna come back to catch ya! ”[/color] I tease knocking back the rest of my jar with a sigh.

The night air envelops us and for a moment I can’t help but realize just how beautiful it is out here. My free hand grabs a chuck of cornbread from in front of us and I take a big bite trying to relax and enjoy the freedom we seemingly have out here; but my relaxation is quickly broken. There is a screech and a scrimple before a haunting melody floats through the air and I dive into Emery’s arms. This time not out of lust but simply because I am scared shitless.

Almost as soon as the music starts there is a holler for it turn off and before I can untangle myself from Emery a figure busts through the stalks and into our picnic, it wasn’t anyone I recognized at first, but Sampson screamed like the child he was and when my eyes met the stranger’s it was as if the whole world stood still. He was supposed to be dead.[/color] We all saw it on the screens, the last bubbling words of the oldest Izar brother as he slipped from this world to the next. Be good he told them as he left them to cry and grieve and wish for each moment back with them and now here he runs up like a maniac out of nowhere. It wasn’t right. As Deval bolted back into view and pulled him off of Sampson as if he was going to beat the hell out of him like I’d seen he do so many times at school he froze too. Sampson’s small framed wrapped around Benat’s back and I couldn’t help it. The rage and anger of seeing so many people “die” and the way our District suffered and wept over them flowed through me. I stood up and ran over between Benat and Deval and kicked my leg as hard as I could connecting right between Benat’s own right in the most sensitive area a man has.

”WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE! YOU’RE DEAD! YOU LEFT THEM. YOU LEFT THEM TO SUFFER AND CRY AND GRIEVE OVER YOU!”[/color] I scream full of anger I don’t even think the Izar’s themselves could understand. ”IS THAT WHAT THEY DO? HUH? TAKE YOU AWAY SO YOU CAN PUT ON A SHOW AND THEN GO LIVE IN THE CAPITOL. A LIFE OF LUXUERY WHILE YOUR FAMILY SUFFERS? ”[/color] Didn’t he understand what he did to them? People aren’t supposed to hurt their family.

It made sense though to me, they cart these “tributes” off like they’re lambs for slaughter and parade them around in a pageant to the “death”…when in reality its just special effects and make up. The probably take these kids and adopt them off to wealthy families in the Capitol where they’re never hungry or poor and they never look back at their old family. Its sick and Benat was part of it. My eyes flare up as I look at him. ”Why…why would you do it… ”[/color] I whisper my voice as cold as ice.






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[Deleted]

[bg=343431][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, border-radius: 0px 0px 45px 45px;][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=style,width:450px;] “Off… off! Freya. FREYA!” “Okay, okay, okay,” I scramble to take the needle off of the disk, letting out a sigh of relief when I eventually do. However, when I look up, Rum Tum is gone. “What…” I start, but quickly drop the phrase when I hear a boy’s scream, probably the young one I’d seen through the corn. Oh gosh, what’s going on? I panic, hoping that Rum Tum is safe, as I run toward the group. I stop the edge of the corn to take a peek. What the hell is Rum Tum doing?

[/i]He’s got this kid pinned to the ground, hands holding down his wrists and all. What?! Is he seriously harassing some little kid? Is this what he does when he visits the districts, beats kids up and takes their wallets or something?

I would’ve entered the scene by now, but the sight of Rum Tum on top of this little kid has caused me to question whether that is such a good idea, whether any of this has ever been a good idea. I start to wonder how many things I don’t know about Rum Tum, and my stomach drops a little. What if he’s been lying to me this whole time?[/i] No, he wouldn’t do that to me, would he? I shake the thought from my head as I watch things play out. So much changes in a matter of only a few minutes: too much. The boy who’d been running off comes back (but where's the girl he was with?) and grabs Rum Tum by the shoulder, bringing a fist up. “Don’t”—I whisper, but I can’t let myself move from my spot in the corn. Not yet. Then, the boy’s fist is freezes in midair and for some reason everyone seems to stop at the sight of Rum Tum’s face. It’s like they’ve seen a ghost. [/i]

Only a few seconds ago, I was completely absorbed in these foreign people and their different ways, but now I don’t know if they’re foreign or just plain crazy. Or maybe Rum Tum’s the crazy one. I mean, he is the one who apparently tackled this kid to the ground…Did the kid attack him first? I wish I could have seen what had happened because now the confusion hurts my head. Suddenly the kid is hugging Rum Tum. Um, what? Am I missing something here?[/i] Does Rum Tum know these people?

“Not Benat, no, no… not Benat…”

The kid who was screaming his face off only moments ago has his head rested against Rum Tum’s back and is pleading the boy with the clenched fist not to hit him.

What.
Is.
Going.
On.

I blink a couple of times, wondering if maybe my many nights without sleep are finally catching up to me. Am I hallucinating? And why is this kid addressing Rum Tum as Benat? Benat who? The name sounds vaguely familiar, but I can’t quite put my tongue to it. Maybe someone in the media? It’s been years since I’ve kept up with the media so who knows?

Before I’ve even finished thinking it through, the girl with dark hair comes up and kicks Rum Tum right between the legs, her face full of mad fury. That’s when I know it’s about time to intervene. ”WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE! YOU’RE DEAD! YOU LEFT THEM. YOU LEFT THEM TO SUFFER AND CRY AND GRIEVE OVER YOU! IS THAT WHAT THEY DO? HUH? TAKE YOU AWAY SO YOU CAN PUT ON A SHOW AND THEN GO LIVE IN THE CAPITOL. A LIFE OF LUXUERY WHILE YOUR FAMILY SUFFERS? Why…why would you do it…"

“Are you fucking insane?” I charge towards the girl, out of my hiding place, my hands full with my music machine. I have as much duty to defend Rum Tum as he has to protect me in this big world outside the little fishbowl of the Capitol, and seeing as how many favors he’s done me and how few I’ve done him, this is the least I can do. [/i]I give the girl a good kick in the shins. And then another, willed by some unknown malicious fury. And then one kick more because when I get started, it’s much too difficult to stop. “You touch him again…”I say. These people are definitely some major crazies. Either that or I’ve been trusting the wrong person this entire time, but I kind of doubt that after what I've just seen.

I address the girl with dark hair again. “And I don’t know what life of luxury you’re talking about – I mean, does his jacket really look ‘luxury’ to you?” I point to Rum Tum’s hideous clothes and then look at the rest of the group, having managed to calm myself at least a bit. “Okay, everyone back away from my brother. Right. Now.” I don’t really know what word to use besides “brother” to give my statement its much-needed dramatic emphasis. I’m still standing there like an idiot with my music machine. “I have a painfully obnoxious noise-making device and I’m not afraid to use it! Or throw it! This thing almost killed a peacekeeper, so you all better watch it!”

“That includes you, kid. Get your hands off,” I tell the boy that’s hugging Rum Tum, even though “kid” probably isn’t the proper title, seeing as he’s probably only a few years younger than me. Clutching the music machine with one arm, I use the other to pry to boy’s hands from Rum Tum and push him away. “You all must be crazy drunk. And who the hell is this Benat guy that -- oh! Wait! Like that one tribute from last year that – OH MY GOD RUM TUM REMEMBER WHEN I SAID YOU LOOKED LIKE SOMEONE ON TV?! That’s it! Benat Izar. Man, that kid was weird. Let’s not even…ew.” I shudder as I remember him throwing his underpants into the pit of snakes. I’m pretty sure I was more mature than him when I was eight. It’s honestly a miracle he got as far as he did. “But ohhh myyyy goddd, they have this tribute look-alike contest in the Capitol every year and everyone always cheats by surgically redoing their faces so they can win that million dollar cash award but eugh, they never work out. But you…you could totally win by just walking in there.” It’s then that I remember where I am and what I’m doing and the fact that there are twelve eyes staring at me.

“…Alright, well, you’ve all got the wrong guy. Benat’s dead. Awkward coincidence, ‘kay? So, go back to your wild little cult and ignore us as we head out.” And then I can’t help but add the last part in. “Also, do any of you know if there’s a mall around here? I could really go for some new shoes.” I turn to Rum Tum, silently sympathizing with his pain. “C’mon, let’s go find your family and get out of here.“ I say quietly, hoping that once we find them, they don’t end up as crazy as this.

And then a sudden realization hits me, and the little words piece themselves together: family, Benat, Rum Tum.

"Wait a second..."

ooc: sorry guys, Freya doesn't know how to like, shut up sometimes.

Template/header by Raseri <3

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The world explodes like firecrackers around me. First the boy with his screams, then the other that wrenches me off of him. He holds his fist and I close my eyes, wondering if he’s going to make me see stars. But he holds his fists there, and there’s no motion. It’s as though all of us are sitting in a boat on the ocean and waiting for the waves to tip us over. I open my eyes when I hear the other girl screaming. All of it is nonsense to me. I left them? What did that even mean? I didn’t know these boys from the dirt between my toes. I had just stumbled onto their party, and they were the ones about to attack me. I knew districters were trouble, but I didn’t know how much they hated people that weren’t their own. It made sense why my father had abandoned me if these were the types of people that populated District Eleven. All of them were at our throats, and ready to rip them out for good measure. But then, maybe I deserved it. I had just ruined whatever sort of hootenanny that they were throwing.

I don’t have time to think when the wild haired girl slams her foot between my nuts. It’s then I see the stars. The air escapes from my chest into the air in a shriek. I fall over onto the ground next to the blanket. I’ve had my bits and pieces hit before, but nothing quite like this kick. I know now that if they’re going to rip me to pieces there’s probably nothing that I’m going to be able to do about it. I’m not a fighter. Never have been, never would be. I’m more about figuring things out, and making peace with it. If I’d been a fighter, maybe I wouldn’t have wound up in the district in the first place. A fighter would have turned his back on his father, on the family that made him wander the earth alone. But see, that’s what makes lovers and fighters different. You got the fighters that want to take the world as a challenge. They want to stand on top of everyone else, as though that’s the most special thing there is in the world.

Lover’s though, we got a mind in our heads and on top of our shoulders. There’s a dream inside of me, and a song that wraps around my heart. It’s that sort of language that makes me sound silly, but sure has made me a lot happier than the anger I’d have as a fighter. That’s the real thing. Anger. I don’t have enough of it inside my bones to push me this way or that way. Even now, with my hands clutching my balls and face screwed up, I can’t get too made at this stranger. She’s protecting her friends, family maybe, and I’m the intruder. I sure do wish they’d at least given me a chance to explain myself. Then again, District Eleven was never a place for explanation; my mother said of all the districts it was the toughest, with a strong hand of the capitol hovering overhead. Maybe with the soul of a fighter, I’d have been strong enough to know what that meant. But here I think that no matter what, I’ll find my family, and I’ll get to know just why I need to see them so.

Freya steps in to stop them, and I can tell things are about to get worse. “Freya…” I whisper out, but I still don’t have enough breath to stop her. She calls me her brother again, and it’s just about the only thing that makes me smile. The little boy next to me is stroking my back, and has a hand around my arm. I think for a second how I’m okay, that it’s going to be okay—and then look back at the girl and boys towering over me. How can I feel okay, even when everything’s not? My mind reals at the mention of this name—Benat—over and over again. They must be drunk and have me confused with someone else. I shake my head as I start to sit, looking over at Freya who’s commanded them to let us go. I rub my hands across my face to wipe away the tears from her attack. I look to Freya and then the rest of them. My eyes rest on the older boy for a second. He looks familiar, in the way a face tells a story you might already know.

“I don’t know… you’re crazy!” I shake my head. “I don’t know what you’re talking…” I stop to think. Freya had gone on about the games, about how I looked like someone. That maybe I was—that maybe I looked like one of the tributes. “Are you…” I don’t know their names, I don’t know who they are but I do. My stomach has fallen into the depths and I know then more than I’ve ever known anything. I don’t want to know them, I don’t want to see them. Not this. I didn’t want to see them right now, not when I wasn’t ready. I try to stand, thinking that I could just run. I could just run through the corn as though none of this happened, and that this whole world had made some sort of crazy mistake. But when Freya stops and looks at them, and I think about how I’m to find my family, I can’t move either.

“Freya I think…” I look at the little boy. “I think we found them.”

ooc- sorry it's not coded but I'm leaving in a little bit and wanted to get this up sorry if it's not goooooddd aaahhhh byyyeee adios!

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[zakattack]

There’s a smile on his lips as he tears into the present and I start to feel a little better, just being around him makes everything feel okay. And as he laughs and I see the appreciation of the compass spread across his face I can’t help but become overswhemled, “I would never find you stupid...” I whispered. I’d never find him anything less than brilliant.

We were lost in the corn, Deval and myself, so close yet far away from the little gathering of people and in the moment with our arms around each other and our lips dancing together I couldn’t even picture anything but this moment. I could feel him moving against me, the drink or the lust an icebreaker to the carnal needs that seemed to grow with each touch. I didn’t want to move, I didn’t want to breathe, I just wanted to live in this moment at this time forever. He was mine and I was his and there was no games or pain or person that could break us apart. We could be suspended in this ocean of corn forever.

[/i] I clung to him as if my life depended on it while my hands slipped into his hair. I wanted to feel him against me, to have him touch me and explore me, but as soon as the music played and my fear shook us from the moment he seemed to be gone.

There was a shriek in the night that could only belong to Sampson and before I could show my own fear Deval changed. Gone was the loving and tender touches, the hurried lust of teenage hormones, and in its place was sheer hatred. I didn’t understand what was going on, was Sampson screaming because he saw us? Was he screaming because he was hurt? Before there was any explanation to fall from my lip Deval had ripped himself from my embrace and I stumbled to the hard ground. Tears welled up in my eyes as he spoke slowly trying to figure out what was happening himself… did he think I really would hurt Sampson? I know I had punched him, but really hurt him I never would. [/i] Shaking my head my hands moved to cover my mouth to stifle a sob as he stood over me, “No...Deval no!”[/color] I called out reaching for him as my shoulders shook.

I don’t know if it was the shock of the moment or the hazy lost feeling of being drunk but nothing seemed to be where it should be. Sitting on the ground I felt the fat hot tears start to roll down my cheeks. I never cried. Ever. Crying was for babies Yet I couldn’t help it this time. I had opened up to someone for the first time, let him sneak his way into my heart and into my soul and he had tossed me to the ground in a heap of rage and booze. He didn’t care about me. All he cared about was his family…and why shouldn’t he? But it didn’t make it fair...it didn’t make it hurt any less.[/i] A choking sob escaped and I pushed my hands against my mouth again and curled against the hard stalks of corn. I didn’t care what happened to Sampson. Let him cry, let him scream, he had Deval, he had a mother and a father and brother who loved him and I had nothing. He took the only thing that had started to be important to me away and left me in a heaping mess on the ground of the cornfield. What did I care what happened to him anyway…he always hated me.

Part of me wanted to get up and stalk after Deval, give him a matching shiner to Sampson’s, but I couldn’t will myself up. Instead I sat there with my arms around my legs grinding my eyes into the bare skin of my knees wishing there was something there to soak up the tears. The jar of wine sits a few feet from me and I grab it and chug down the rest of the liquid before chucking the jar behind me with a frustrated yell. Who does he think he is treating me like this? I trusted him, more than I’ve trusted just about anyone in my life…and he thinks I’d do something so awful as to hurt his family? I spark of anger flickers inside my chest but the sadness of losing the only thing I wanted fights back and soon my eyes travel to the darkness. Maybe I should just go. He doesn’t want me here and I don’t want him at our hill anymore…maybe I’ll go there and steak my claim once more. The thoughts liven me up but the tears keep their stead stream as I wipe them away harshly with my hands instead of standing and running I still just sit and wait for the hope he comes back.


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[Sampson]

I've never believed in ghosts. I will never believe in ghosts. Spooky spirits and ailing apparitions never seemed worldly. They were just figments of mourning loved ones, creations of the mind to bring the dead back to the realm of the living. To believe in phantoms was to believe in fiction. It was the way the eyes saw what no longer was there to be seen. Seeing ghosts was like keeping fool's gold; it appears to be the real deal, but never really is. Ghosts were for fools and I promised I would never be a fool again.

But before me is not a ghost. It's a walking corpse of my dead older brother. Benat, our Benat, has come back and it feels like my whole world suddenly means nothing. The stars above us, in their shimmering glory, are suddenly treacherous. How dare they go on listening to my whispered prayers, when my brother did not actually rest with them. He stands in front of my eyes, Sampson clinging to his side and asking me not to hit him. I don't even have the strength to strike, even if I wanted to. My body feels alien, like I have no idea how to use my arms and legs, like I might not even have them anymore. There is no way to move my hands to pull Sampson away from being a fool. I can't detach him from the pyrite that has been placed in reach of his little hands, can't remove it from his wanting eyes. It's too late to keep my little brother from being trapped by the walking corpse of my older brother.

I don't find my arms until Dyani drives her foot up into Benat's genitals and brings him to his knees. It's this attack, the assault on my brother, that draws me from my stupor. He's my family, and Dyani is suddenly dangerous. Like Elodie or Ivy, the crazy kid is just like all the other insane females in the arena. My hands reach blindly, hooking onto a strap of her overalls and yanking the danger away from Benat. She deserves to be hit the way she's acting, but I'm not one to hit a girl (maybe, I'm sure if they pushed just the right button I might lose that value).
"Stay the fuck away from him," I hiss, intent on pulling her to the ground by her overalls but my hands feel funny with the amount of alcohol in my system. Plus, I've just found my arms again and they still seem unfamiliar. It's probably the main reason why I don't yank Dyami away from the strange girl that comes charging out of the corn. Her feet connect with the other girl's shins before I can help—as if I really want to—and I let go the overall strap. The stranger that seemed to tag along with Benat begins to talk, words pouring out of her mouth like word vomit. I want her to shut up, almost enough that I debate forgetting my decision that I am above hitting girls because I'm sure a strike to her mouth will definitely stop the upchuck of words. My hand curls into a fist and I'm sure you can see the veins in the side of my head, when she says something that chills my boiling blood.
"Benat Izar. Man, that kid was weird. Let’s not even…ew," her stupid voice explains, then continues to pour out more babble about death and malls. It's overwhelming, her talking and Benat being there and Sampson hugging him and Dyami yelling. I can't help the urge I have to cover my ears and go fleeing into the corn, never to look back again. Instead, I feel my temper flare up as my blood begins to boil.

"SHUT UP!" I snarl, my eyes cutting into the one Benat calls "Freya". Both my hands reach for Sampson, prepared to tear him from the hallucination that makes me want to believe my big brother did not die in 63rd Hunger Games. He can't be back. We were just getting along, just becoming fine with that empty space in our bed and the matching hole in our hearts. "Get out of here, Not-Benat," I'm still livid, but my voice is low and harsh. "Don't think nothing," I snap at the boy who wears my dead brother's face like a mask, "You haven't found anything. Go on, get going back to the grave you walked out of." My fingers press into Sampson's skin, willing him to let go of the stranger, who he holds to so tightly it reminds me of the time he had handfuls of pebbles near that awful riverbank where we cried together. Let go, Sampson. He's not.. he's nothing. I want to hiss the words into his ear, but they die in my brain as simple thoughts. My mind is jumbled up, confused between my anger and protective instinct I still feel for my brothers (even the one that's just a look-alike). I don't have the time, nor the clarity, to even consider the girl I left behind in the corn so coldly.

[Deleted]

Sampson Izar

[/color]

•••

And it's beginning to get to me
That I know more of the stars and sea
Than I do of what's in your head
Barely touching in our cold bed

•••

All my life I’ve had people to tell me what to do. A Ma and Pa for learning me, brothers for growing me, other kids and cousins to guide me what to be. I’m a little seed caught in the wind, swirling around, trying to find my place to grow. It’s how I’ve felt, this strange little thing growing up and trying to follow the rest of them at a speed I can’t even figure out. My legs just don’t work. It’s… a thinness to my skin, that I feel like if I get pricked I bleed extra. Here and now I’m clinging to Benat, and looking to Deval to save the three of us. I put my life in their hands because I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Even more than that, I don’t want to have to decide for myself. The wind’s supposed to carry me, the world is just supposed to happen[/color] because there ain’t nothing that I can control myself.

Except that’s a pigheaded notion if I ever heard one[/color]. With all that I’ve felt—all that I’ve seen over the past year, I’m not going to let this ghost get the better of me. I know that I’m young, and that I’m small. I know my heart’s been broken, and not the pitter-patter kind of broken, but the one that never really heals. It’s when you lose someone you can’t replace, and it makes a big hole in your heart. You feel like you’ve got nothing inside, and so at first you just want to give up. You just want to not do anything, because it’s all heavy and it’s all not worth it. But then you see the sun. You see you still got a brother, and a ma, and a pa. You see that you’re an inch and a half taller. The sun also rises, each and every day. There’s still people to wake up for, even when you lose one.[/color] You got someone—something[/color]—to live for, even if you ain’t figured out what that is.

Dyani sets into motion, hollering at him for leaving us. My skin prickles. I should be just as angry for my brother leaving me and coming back. We’ve backslid. We’d climbed a mountain, the two of us, holding hands when things got rocky but we had made it[/color]. We’d gone up to the top and were looking down, moving on and seeing that horizon. And here he was, pulling at the cuff of our pants and tugging us back down into the dark below. Deval cut into him with words, telling him to leave. Did he mean that?[/i][/color] We both loved him so, would he just send away the apparition, even if it meant five more minutes with a false Benat? I stare down at his shoulders, and watch how the wind ruffles his hair. He’s coughing, still reeling from the blow Dyani’s given him.

“No,” I say drawing a line in sand. If my whole world has been about being pulled this way or that way, then it isn’t about to be now. He bleeds, I bleed. I’ve shed enough blood for Benat that I don’t think I could ever be alive. But here and now I won’t let them shatter me to pieces. Because no matter what this is, it’s too important to walk away from. “I ain’t going to leave him. He...” I say looking to Benat. “I don’t know who he is or what he isn’t,” I say with a tremble to my voice. “But he’s my brother and I don’t leave nobody behind. Not even if he ain’t—if he…” I look to Deval, and then back to our ghost.

My hands hold onto his jacket, and I smell him again. I take in the scent of wood and fire. It’s otherworldly in a way, distinct from the dusty smell of the summer. I should be believing in ghosts, it would be so easy.[/color] Surely this could have been done through me praying so hard for Benat to be here with us, and through all the pain that I’ve felt, I could will him back into existence. But I’ve never been the one to believe in magic. There’s something more to these shadows. I look him in the eyes then, his brown and beautiful face looking back at mine. It makes me want to cry the way the lines crinkle on his face. I never thought I’d see the little wrinkles under his eyes again. “Are you my brother?”

I want it to be true more than there are stars in the sky.[/color]

•••

Are you beginning to get my point
That all this fighting with aching joints
It's doing nothing but tire us out
No one knows what this fight's about

[/color]

•••

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Swallowing deeply I try to calm myself but the burning anger inside just keeps growing. How could these so called tributes leave their families like this? Was all it took the promise of food and clothes to forget everything they had back here. Lord knows a full meal would tempt anyone in District 11 though.

[/i][/color] Yet the thought of leaving mama behind for something so pointless was enough to make me sick and almost go over and lay into Benat again. As I stand over him contemplating just what I should do, and leaning towards driving my fist into his face, I feel someone yank me away by the straps of my overalls. My eyes flash to seen Deval standing behind me his eyes wild with madness as well. Only it wasn’t at the coward of a brother he had it was at me. My own fist balls up as he tugs me away and some strange girl comes running in the fray of things.

At first I thought it was Asha but this girl is different, she starts hollering and hooting about lord knows what as she runs up and kicks me in the shins. The shock that anyone would stand up to me is enough to stop me in my tracks as my jaw goes slack for a moment. Who the hell does she think she is.[/color] Her words surround me and my eyes widen with anger as they flicker around to the crowd. Are they all going to sit there at let her jabber on about nothing…and what is a mall? A primal scream rips through me as I dive at her. ”SHUT UP...”[/color], I tackle her to the ground and I can’t help but growl ”You’re in on it too aren’t you? You crazy bitch. ”[/color] Bring my fist down into her cheek and shake my head before climbing off of her. I don’t want anything more to do with this mess.

Looking back to the motley crew of people around us I just mutter. ”You’re all fucking crazy. The only decent one in the bunch is Emery and he’s so shocked he’s about to shit himself.”[/color] My eyes scan the corn for Asha but she’s still nowhere to be found. Nodding to the corn I chuckle and say to Emery loud enough that Deval can hear . ”Your girl is still out there, not sure what Deval did to her but you can find her or you can come with me...cause I’m not sticking around this cluster fuck till the peace keepers come.”[/color] I don’t even care about the scene unfolding beside us, the whispered threats from Deval or the childish antics of Sampson. I’m tired and scared that we’re all going to be in trouble when someone finds out about this and we all know they will.
I give him a few second to mull over the options before I take off through to corn not willing to risk myself for a bunch of screw ups like that. Only one person in this world matters, at its me. They can deal with the mess they’ve made I just wanted a fun night out, and if Emery decides to follow it still might happen.


(OOC-OMG this sucks, I’m so tired but I can’t sleep so I just threw this out there. Please don’t hate it, she’s kinda drunk bipolar scared of getting caught wants nothing to do with the Izar mess lol)





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[bg=343431][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, border-radius: 0px 0px 45px 45px;][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=style,width:450px;] “Freya I think…” Rum Tum says. I stop in my tracks and turn around. What? We’re not leaving? “I think we found them,” but I shake my head because no, no, this can’t be them. I sure as hell hope it’s not. It can’t be. When I imagined this moment, I imagined grinning faces and tears and hugs and maybe even a smile just for me. However, the fantasies in my head don’t fit with this situation: not at all. You’d initially assume that two people living in the wild might be a bit mentally unstable, and yet these district people are absolutely barbaric! How are they even related to peaceful, kind, soft-spoken Rum Tum? “SHUT UP!” The boy with the scowling face barks, his words enough to push me a full step backwards. The stares surrounding me feel like darts, my heart attempting to wrench free of the awful feeling. My eyes shift to the other boy, the younger one I had pulled off of Rum Tum, and he gives me a short glare before his arms find their way to Rum Tum’s jacket again. Suddenly, there’s nothing to say, nothing to do, nothing to be without summoning the glares again. No one wants me here, probably not even Rum Tum. I look up from the ground to find his face, but he isn’t looking at me. He’s looking at the boy whose arms are wrapped around his waist. The hatred in the air is so palpable; it would be easier to merely leave now, but no, this kid hugging Rum Tum is making everything so much more difficult. I don’t think he realizes that we’re a package deal. Envy races through my senses, and I shiver against the cold world of my surroundings. Last time I checked, there was nobody clinging to me, nobody pleading not to leave me behind. I knew this would happen. I knew it would all end in Rum Tum finding his happy ending – although I suppose there hasn’t been a whole lot of “happy” just yet – and me just finding myself as lost as I was when I wandered into the woods that first day. “But he’s my brother and I don’t leave nobody behind. Not even if he ain’t—if he…Are you my brother?” The boy asks Rum Tum and something inside of me cracks. Don’t leave nobody behind? Am I that invisible? I open my mouth to speak, but I’m interrupted as the girl I’d kicked slams right into me, throwing me to the ground. ”SHUT UP! You’re in on it too aren’t you? You crazy bitch. ” My dizzied head hits the dirt hard and I look up just in time to see the fist before it hits my face, a slight sound escaping my lips. Tears immediately fill my eyes from the impact, and I feel the weight of the girl lifted off of me. Putting a hand to my swelling cheek, I slowly pull myself to my feet in shame. The crazy bitch prepares to leave, not that I would think of attacking her again. Everything hurts now, from my cheek to my fragile heart to my feet that are ever so tired of walking miles with a person who isn’t mine to keep. Maybe this is that date I’ve been dreading for months, the day we have to part our separate ways and stop living in the forest fantasy we’ve built. I don’t want them to take him from me, but what if they do? What if this is what he wants? What if I’m not enough? The hurt from the scowling boy’s glare and even the crazy bitch’s punch can’t even compare to the hurt I feel when I look at the boy with his arms around Rum Tum, this boy who thinks he can just saunter in and take away the only person I have left. I feel tears forming at the edges of my eyes, because of the pain in my cheek but also because of the way that this boy has his face in Rum Tum’s jacket like he’s a father that just came back from fighting a war. I jumped into this situation solely to defend Rum Tum and yet his eyes haven’t even shifted in my direction. The few tears are reaching down my cheeks, stretching across my face. I don’t try to stop them as I express my last few words, glaring at the boy. “No, he’s not your brother.” The words are sharp and yet my mind is trembling. “He’s my brother!” and with that, I turn around and disappear through the corn because nobody wants me, nobody ever wanted me: obviously Kormiko never wanted me, maybe Rum Tum never wanted me either, and I don’t think it’s even a question that my parents never wanted anything to do with me. I thought I’d found my own little crevice of the world, but that boy – that boy is here to take it away from me. Having left my gramophone behind, I keep running through the corn; I keep running and crying and hurting and running and I don’t know where I’m going, but I hope to get far enough that I won’t have to feel the hate that used to follow me through the Capitol: hate that I’d thought I’d left far behind me. But I know it's all meant to catch up to me in the end. It already has. Template/header by Raseri <3

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RUM TUM TUGGER

----
'Cause I want to live like animals
Careless and free like animals
I want to live
I want to run through the jungle
The wind in my hair and the sand at my feet
----

Whisper me forgiven.

[/color] I remember the words I said, over and over again the last time I came to District Eleven. Even though it had been her fault, even though everything she’d ever said was some kind of lie, I still wanted to know that it wasn’t my fault. I grew up in amazement of the world because all of it stretched to infinity before me—there was nothing but magic vastness to it. We were wanderers that had escaped tragedy to triumph. My father had been killed protecting us from a dreadful beast, just as the rest of my family had fallen. We were a spared chosen few, my mother and I. She held me close and raised me to see that what was ordinary could be beautiful, just as sure as you could see life as one adventure after another. We weren’t chained to a plot of land, dancing around campfires and praying to the stars. We were different.[/color]

I should have never wanted to come back here. Freya had tried to warn me, but I’d been stubborn enough to think that the world would shower us in rainbows and starlight. My brothers would be reunited with me, and my father would see that there’d been a missing piece this whole time. How could it have been different? We were a family torn apart because of my mother. I hadn’t even existed for them but here I was now, they had to take me in, didn’t they? We were blood and that meant something. I wasn’t asking for charity. I was asking to understand their eyes, and to listen to their laughter. I shake my head as the girls go at it. I open and close my fists as though I could wring the night air by its neck. Get out of here, Not-Benat. Don't think nothing. You haven't found anything. Go on, get going back to the grave you walked out of. [/color]

I feel like a fist has collided with my stomach. He’d said there were three[/color]. I remember, sitting on the little cot and the cold rag against my head. Just like the stars in the sky, there was supposed to be three boys. Three brothers that were mine in blood and spirit. But now I know that one is missing. I don’t know how, but I know he’s come and gone—and must have looked enough like me for them to be hurt by it. It’s as though I’d come across the only bridge that crossed a rocky path, and found it to be hanging, broken down into the abyss below. It was never mine to pass, but it’d been waiting for me. I’d taken too long to find it, and now I’d never know what waited on the other side. Whisper me forgiven.[/color] I close my eyes. I should walk away now, right out with Freya and never look back. This can all be a dead memory, on that I pile stones upon and never speak of again.

How could I have been dumb enough to think that what I wanted would ever be—could ever be—what they’d wanted? A wind sends a shiver down my spine. They’ve spent seventeen years without me, and me fifteen without them. Their world saw no difference without me. I was the selfish one that couldn’t live without them. Even now I want to run after my brother and beg him not to go. I’d be a child, on my knees and pleading with him not to leave me. I don’t lose my footing, however. I stand, hands down at my sides and head sunken toward my chest. Whisper me forgiven.[/color] It’s all I can ask for, knowing it’s an empty call to the universe. The other girl screams and takes off into the corn, and Freya isn’t far behind. I want to run after her too. She calls me her brother again, but the word feels foreign, poisonous. She’s more than just a sister but altogether isn’t. Freya’s not my blood. But that doesn’t make her less important to me.[/color] “Freya, we can’t go… please…?”

I falter when I hear the little one’s voice. I ain’t going to leave him. He...[/color] Our eyes meet. I feel the sweat drip down my forehead, and I let out a breath. I don’t know who he is or what he isn’t.[/color] I take a step toward him. But he’s my brother and I don’t leave nobody behind. Not even if he ain’t—if he…[/color] A pause that could last a thousand years hangs between us. Are you my brother?[/color] I move to wipe my hand across my forehead. I bring both of them up to my eyes and wipe them off as well. I let out a cough that turns into a laugh. Before I know it I’m on my knees. I can’t help it but to reach out my hands and take his. We could go on forever, holding hands and not saying anything. At least, the bravery that usually fills my stomach has all but disappeared into the darkness of the night. It’s a moment before I take my eyes off the ground and meet his again.

“Yes.” I take a breath. “I know you don’t believe me, I know you don’t want to but…” I furrow my brow. “I’m not dead, no. I’m not—“ I pause. I could run away from this, save him from whatever heartache he has. I can’t live up to his expectations. I’m nothing special. I’ll never be the brother that sits in the black of his eyes. I’ll never hold his hand or brush his hair the same way. It should be enough to break me. A deep pang fills my stomach. My feet don’t move. “I’m someone else, but I’m your brother. I—you have to… please let me explain. Please don’t leave me here. I don’t want to lose you all again.”

I lost the only one that ever meant anything to this district. They can turn their backs on me just like our father did. But I’m not going to give up on knowing them because it’s scary. I won’t turn my back because someone decided I wasn’t enough. They are my blood and they’re all I’ve got. Sure as the stars burn overhead, I will always be a part of them. And they’ll be a part of me.

“Please. I’ve come so far just to see you…”[/justify][/blockquote][/size]