Watch your {B A C K}//meghan

[d11a tsiuri dermott ☕ minie]

C A M I L L E B L A C K M O R E There is a difference between day and night, during the day, you feel as if you are surrounded by the safety of others. At night, when everything is dark and cold, and you feel as if someone is constantly looking at you, waiting for the right moment to pounce and kill. At night it is either you are the predator or the prey, I am most certainly not the prey. I come from the Blackmore family, during the day we are nothing special but at night we rule the district. I'm not allowed to attack anyone when the light is shining, even though I spot a good targets in the district square. I'm sitting on a bench alone with my face buried in a book, watching the people pass by. My legs are crossed, and my blond hair pulled back into a high ponytail. I'm not very concentrated on the book, but more the people, trying to overhear conversations to find out where people are going to be at night. It is my night to bring back food and I need to have an idea. I rather hate the sun light, usually it isn't so bright and warm, but for some reason no one told mother nature that. I was burning in my skinny jeans and my white tank top with a blazer on top. There wasn't much going on today, the people walked around, they went into shops and came out. Some would stop to talk to others then casually walk on. Sometimes, but very rarely someone would say hi to me or smile as they walk on by. Not many people know my name and not many people need to know my name. most people know me as the odd Blackmore girl, the girl that is nicer than the rest of her family, the one that talks to others, but they don't know my other side. template by chelsey

[Meghan]

Milo Birch

Today, my olive eyes are painted with black, and my lips are clothed in scarlet. My sisters think I try to be older than I am, but if they just knew the things I had done, they would understand. I had accomplished in one night more than any of them would dream to accomplish in an entire life time.

Logan and I had already parted ways, still too cautious to be seen together in public. Besides, they would be discovering the poor body any day now, we couldn't be associated with each other if we wanted to avoid accusation for that. Sleepless lines carve their way into the skin of my cheeks, trying to force me to reveal my secrets.

Well, I refuse. My sins will follow me to the grave, even if I have to be the one to bury myself six feet under. Innocent lies must always be protected, and I could trust no one.

My eyes avert to my watch, checking the time once again as I walk through the district square. It had only been a half hour since we had said our goodbyes, and I couldn't be seen anywhere near him. I had to wait here until I could meet the rest of my cousins at the training center. Ripred, my heart was already pounding against the bones in my chest. Is it possible to die from nerves?

Ripred, I need to calm down. They weren't going to catch me. Countless others had been murdered in the district recently, and all of their killers had gone free. In District Two, it was either kill or be killed. We aren't known for messing around.

A girl sits on the bench my feet were aiming for. I recognized her vaguely as one of Logan's many family members. Her first name evaded my lips, but it was unimportant. She wasn't my enemy, that was for sure, and maybe it was time I made a friend in the family. Still, I felt wary, my skin still jumping from the thought of Tuff's rancid mouth pressed against mine. Fat fingers had found their way around my neck, trying to squeeze the life out -- ripred, I need to breathe. It's okay, Milo. He's not going to touch you here. Breathe.

In one last futile effort to distract myself, I throw myself unceremoniously on the bench besides the blonde girl. "Blackmore, right?" I ask dully as I continue to try to control my panic. "You related to Logan?"

words: 413
Template by Meghan

[d11a tsiuri dermott ☕ minie]

C A M I L L E B L A C K M O R E Watching the innocent people walk past a person who has spilled blood and watch them not notice a thing, it is quite amusing and at the same I have to wonder how stupid are people really, how can they think the world is so innocent when they live in a society of killers. Some people need to wake up and see the blood that has been spilled right in front of their ripred damned noses. They walk by me, think nothing much of me and seeing me as one of the nicest of the Blackmore's, but I'm an evil genius inside. A girl walks to me, dark hair and a pretty face, the kind of girl that I could kill easily, the kind of girl that I would love to hear scream and beg for mercy as my hand raises and my blade stabs her in the heart making her history, an evil grin slowly appears on my face as I put my book down and look her in the eye. She want's to know if I'm a blackmore, if I am related to Logan. I honestly don't know why she cares, if she made an encounter with him, why is she still alive? Is it like that Birch boy I found in the alley one night. "Yes, my name is Camille Blackmore...why do you care?" template by chelsey

[Meghan]

Milo Birch

The girl looks at me like she can't wait to sink a dagger into my flesh. It was typical of her family, really, and I am not sure why I feel surprised at her response. I guess it was because I felt that I deserved to be respected after last night's events. The dead man's last words affirmed that much. "You kids are all the same, aren't you? Heartless and willing." I was heartless. There was no denying this, and I could tell Logan was too.

Sure we pretended to be nice. We smiled at all the right people and shook the hands of the wealthy. Underneath every grin, every shallow mask of a person, was somebody they were too afraid to know. Murderers, that is what we were. And I reveled in it.

I was the same as them. Deadly, ruthless, and respected, despite the embarrassment that was my family. I was the top of my age class, and above most of the older idiot careers as well. Nobody had my drive. I was deadly. This girl had to see that. Ripred, she needed to see it. It was difficult to hold it all in. I was about to blurt out the confession of my actions at her question, but caught myself before I admitted something I may regret. She did not need to know the blood on my hands. My secrets were mine alone, and this girl certainly had not won my trust yet.

There would be no use winning respect if it landed me in the Detention Center. I had heard horror stories of the Capitol prison, which was not far from our borders. I could not risk myself for something so petty. I have to put a hand on my beating heart to steady the flow of words, but eventually the demands of my conscience ebb away.

Why do I care? Is that what the girl asked me, despite her poison eyes. I force my lips into a smile and stare at her. Why do I care exactly? You want respect, stop denying it. She did not need to know that, I was sure of it.

Why do you care then? Why do you care? Why do you really, truly care? What does this girl matter to you, Milo? Do you know who you are? Why do you need her respect? I mentally scream at my thoughts to quiet and blink away my frustration.

Why do I care?

"Care? Who said I care?" I ask the girl, ice practically dripping from my throat. I am not certain she falls for my charade. "Your brother seems to care about me, though. Did you not know that?" How embarrassing for her to not even know her own brother. "Why don't you ask him why I would possibly care?" I regretted the words just as soon as I uttered them, but I could not turn back the tides now. I was stupid at times, it was true. But I was only fourteen, and because of this I did not hold my frequent mistakes against me. I had plenty of time to grow into the dignified doll they expected of me. Camille could respond in whichever way she pleased. I did not care, because my identity did not ride on her approval of me. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care.

words:  557
Template by Meghan

[d11a tsiuri dermott ☕ minie]

C A M I L L E B L A C K M O R E If she didn't care why would she even ask? The girl had a temper, and I couldn't stand her, truth be told I would like to have my knife with me this moment. I wanted to press it agains her kneck and feel her warm blood trickle down my fingers, this girl should be dead and she should never even talk to me or any other blackmore like that ever again, if she knew what we were capable of and that some would kill her on the spot but not me, I'm to nice to kill her infront of all these lovely innocent people. The girl looked innocent, and in past tense the anger didn't suit her well and it made her look desperate, desperate for answers. I wonder what she wants from me, but her pride covers the fact that she is worse that me, below my worth, no one needs a person like that in her life. "May I ask you something?" I didn't wait for her answer to continue I didn't want her answer I was asking if she liked it or not "If you don't care who I am, then why go through the trouble and ask? More importantly why go through the trouble and get on my badside?" I raised an eyebrow at the mention of Logan, she hides behind his back, to make me look weak and sad. I may act nice to them and I may pertend as if they are my life, but they arn't as she just proved I know nothing about them, and matter of fact I don't want to know much about my sibling, not even my triplets. "I don't have to ask Logan about you, because I really couldn't care less about you or your relationship to him, to me your nothing but a fly that will buzz off and die without a meaning" template by chelsey