if this life is {fiction} // tom

[cici]

freya hanig

I just want to be ok, be ok, be ok

I used to love books. They were my first love, before Kormiko, before Rum Tum, before I even knew I had the ability to love. I got to know the characters more than I did my neighbors, even though they never had the chance to know me, even though they were mere fiction. However, there were also supporting characters that I never got to know well enough, characters that only showed in a chapter or two. On one hand, chapters were always nice because they organized the book and made it easier to read. But now I know that chapters are just meant to separate the past from the present, because now I’m on to the next chapter of my life, and I don’t want to be. Rum Tum wasn’t meant to be just a chapter, a supporting role. He was the story. He was part of the climax, the development; the entire plot depended on him. But alas, maybe I’m not the author.

Rum Tum is gone: lost because of my stupidity the day I entered District Three to grab us some necessities without him. Days of shouting his name while sprinting through the woods, and I still haven’t found a trace of him. I glance sideways at the trees as I trek through the woods, taken aback the moment I see a slash through the bark. Rum Tum used to track our paths that way. My heart beats in anticipation; I’m getting somewhere. Immediately, my feet carry me as I sprint through the greenery, slashed tree after slashed tree. It’s as if I’m expecting the trees to lead to him. Instead, they lead me to the fence of District Eleven. Of course. The marks on the trees were from the time we came to meet his family. Maybe he went back. Maybe he’s here. I don’t know how he would have made it into the district, considering his blindness, but optimism is all I have right now. I need him to be safe, even if only in my head.

I look for the opening beneath the fence that had been my way through the last time, but disappointment fills me when I realize it has been repaired. My only option left is the tree that I had been too afraid to jump from the last time. I put my hands on the bark, pulling myself up the wind blows my frizzy, knotted hair in front of my face. Climbing the tree is so much easier than I remember it, but I would give all of my strength up to be weak again, to have an excuse to fall down and cry and deny all responsibility.

I finally make my way across the branch that hangs over the fence and into the district. I edge further onto the branch, feeling a trembling sensation beneath me as it fights to support my weight. I slip my backpack off my shoulders and toss it to the ground, watching as it lands in a pile of fresh mud. Then, I take a deep breath and grip the branch tightly with both hands, feeling like a gymnast as I let my whole body hang from the branch. When I look down, I see that the drop isn’t terribly large – not large enough to kill me, but large enough that I should be worried about what state I’ll be in once I hit the bottom. There’s mud beneath me – mud is soft, right? My hands grip the branch tighter when I hear a rustling sound in the fields of wheat. There’s a boy in the distance – is that Rum Tum? It looks like him. It has to be him! “Rum Tum!” I shout, my voice suddenly eager. “I can’t jump. I can’t do it. It’s so far.” I can’t walk any further, I can’t run that far, I can’t climb that high – I’ve told him so many times that “I can’t.” But he always reminded me that I can. And I need him to remind me one more time, because after weeks of pretending to be strong, it’s hard not to be weak.

But relief spreads through me when I realize that Rum Tum is here; there's no reason to be weak anymore.

ooc - bleh sorry this is one of the worst posts I've written in a while; just to clarify, Freya thinks that the approaching Levi is actually Rum Tum so oops

♥

[Tom]

Writing Speech Other's Speech Thoughts

Heroes weren't created in a day. Most super heroes in stories were created by a unfathomable pain or suffering they went through. A hero was created by some sort of personal goal by that person. The hero chooses one side or the other. They try to be good or evil, but in all stories, superheroes are made by the change in them. Levi was always changing himself. He was always trying to be better and trying to be a hero like Benat was. Benat was his hero, even if people mocked him for it. Levi was going to be a hero one day, no matter what anyone did or said. Levi was being a hero for the little family he had. His life though wasn't a story of a superhero. It was one of a tortured teen.

A sleight of hand and suddenly the fruit was gone from the shelf. A bit of a tricky move. A movement of the legs trying to escape the owner of the fruit. Another sleight of hand and more food from places disappear, only enough for people not to notice, but when they do a chase is began. Levi wasn't a hero anymore. He was a trickster who had a skill that could be used well. His path was darkened from a bad past memory. A memory that torn him apart from the seams of his heart. Levi had escaped the angry market sellers. He had scored some fruit, some medicine, and some money from the market sellers. Levi wasn't always like this with people. He used to be such a helpful boy to everyone. He used to hold doors open and help people with their shops, but now he's a thief and ruins people's lives. Levi sets the items he had in a bag that he carries around with him. The items were for his mother. He had time until his mother would awaken again and he wanted to get her favorite thing ever. Flowers nearby the fences of District 11. The ones that smelt good and would liven up the house.

Levi begins walking towards the fence, watching his back making sure no Peacekeepers or civilians follow him. He decides to go through the wheat field, since it's more likely that he'd get away from someone following him in there. He was pushing through the field. It may have not been very pleasant going through the wheat, but when he got the flowers and went home, the happy look on his ill mother's face would be the greatest thing he's seen in awhile. Levi's feet cause crunching from the ground, wheat bits smashed under his shoes. Levi finally reached the outer part of the wheat. The sounds of crunching softened as Levi walked out into the field that contained some flowers nearby. Levi was getting ready to pick a nice bit of flowers until someone yelled at him. “Rum Tum!” the girl shouted, who was in the tree by the fence. The only thing Levi could think of was that the girl was crazy. Levi's mind was turning. He could go help the girl and be a hero in that moment or leave her and be the person he was supposed to be. An evil trickster who everyone thinks is rotten.

Levi's choice was decided after hearing the girl yell at him once more. “I can’t jump. I can’t do it. It’s so far.” said the girl again. This time Levi would help, only because he's truly a nice guy on the inside. Levi made his way to under the tree. He looked up at the girl and spoke, "I don't think I'm who you're looking for miss. I'm Levi. Levi Izar-Krane. Now, let's get you down from that tree, miss." Levi watched as the girl in the tree looked at him. She seemed distraught and upset. His suspicions were growing. Why would she seem upset that he was there? Maybe this Rum Tum was her boyfriend or something. The next question is, if she was a wanderer, why would her boyfriend be in District 11 of all places. Levi just ignored his logic and smiled at her. He was safe and he could keep her safe from Peacekeepers until she found this Rum Tum. Levi couldn't reach the tree and so he had to go to desperate measures. "Miss. You're gonna have to jump and I'll catch you. Trust me and you'll be in District 11. Just be strong miss." Levi held his arms out ready to catch her. He wasn't just going to leave her to be caught or die up in the tree. Levi would never forgive himself if someone got hurt because of him.

[cici]

freya hanig

"I don't think I'm who you're looking for miss. I'm Levi. Levi Izar-Krane. Now, let's get you down from that tree, miss," a voice barks. Even with all the voices that have found their way into my head, the sound of an actual human is so foreign now. It’s not Rum Tum. It’s not him. Panic settles in my stomach, and I grip the tree tighter.

“No! Go away!” I shout at the stranger beneath me.

"Miss. You're gonna have to jump and I'll catch you. Trust me and you'll be in District 11. Just be strong miss." When I look down, I see not a boy trying to help me, but the hard face of a peacekeeper.

“No. Nononono.” He’s a peacekeeper. He’s lying. He knows what I did. He knows; he knows. He knows about the assault. He knows I’m a traitor. To the Capitol. To Rum Tum. He knows it all. He’s trying to get me to come down so that he can take me away. He’s going to take Rum Tum away. He’s going to take my family away. He’s going to take Kormiko away. I have to warn them. I have to find them. I swing my feet upward, trying to get back onto the branch, but my hands are slipping, and before I know it, I’m falling. A scream escapes my mouth, despite the fact that the drop from the tree to the ground is short enough.

I land atop the boy and scramble to take control of the situation, pinning his arms to the ground with my knees and hitting him this way and that: punch, kick, shove with every last inch of energy I have. “You’re not Levi Izar-Krane. You’re a liar, you filthy peacekeeper! You took them away; you took them all away!” I shout, enraged. But then I realize that I'm the liar here. I'm the one who drove Rum Tum away, who wasn't careful enough, who left her family behind, and who let them take Kormiko for what was my fault.

I don’t care how this ends. I hope it ends in blank walls and metal beds; I hope he locks me up in that dreadful place and never lets me out, so I can just stare at the ceiling and stop feeling. But for now, I just want this young man to hurt the way I’m hurting. I’ve hurt everyone who’s walked into my life. What’s one more?

I keep hitting the peacekeeper boy until I’m too exhausted to hit him anymore. The rage turns to tears as I catch my breath, muscles aching. I don’t dare look at the damage I’ve done as I roll off of the boy and into the mud. I stare at the sky, looking for the stars that Rum Tum always loved all too much, but daytime has hidden them behind the sun. In a few minutes, there will likely be squads of peacekeepers entering the scene, coming to arrest me. Yet, the damage I just did to this peacekeeper boy is nothing compared to my usual standard of harm.

When they arrest me, I hope they cause me the same amount of pain I caused Rum Tum.

I know I deserve it.

ooc - yeah um freya's mental state is deteriorating so if you have any questions about what's going on, feel free to ask~

♥