fire and rain {viola and katelyn/VT}

[D6f Carmen Cantelou [aza]]

V I O L A

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My voice remains dry and crackled. My words ran dry when I saw Pixie's life slip through her own fingers. Blood surrounding her, my eyes focused on watching her drown in a pool of red and-

It was just a dream, a nightmare. The memories of watching her die still haunt me to this day. Minutes, hours, days after her death, days after the victor was crowned. The vivid imagery still remains firmly stuck in a dark corner of my mind. It's like a disease with no cure.

Something that certainly won't be cured is the guilt. Katelyn Persimmon, a girl, no- a victor from District 11. To win, she had to fight. To be alive, she had to kill. I wonder if there is a pile of guilt on her shoulders from the people she had killed in the frosty arena. If I were here, I'd feel nothing. She did what she had to do, and by doing that, she killed my sister's murderer.

And for the most part, I feel an immense amount of pride. A killer of a murderer in the place I call home. The place Pixie called home. Yet, does her kill make it right? Chaske Parks was the son to a mother and father, perhaps a sibling, a student and a friend. He had a life ahead of him just like they all did. But inside me, hatred runs through my veins every time I picture his face, that moment, his name.

But alas, here we are now. My sister is dead so that she could survive. I won't complain because I understand how the games work. They only want one victor. 

So, here I stand. An outsider with inside knowledge. Staring at the Persimmon girl who has her future handed to her on a plate. Yet the food on the china is cold and solid, drained of the juices which bring the flavours alive on your tongue. It's plain and boring.

I feel for her.

I blink and I find myself at the front of the assembled crowd, peacekeepers within a reach of my hand. The silence is so violent, I can hear the beat of my heart and every breath our new victor takes. The atmosphere surrounding her feels so fantastical. I inhale part of the air and I can feel it blossom in my lungs - the feeling is so pure and untouchable.

I exhale and-

"Thank you, Katelyn Persimmon."

I breathe these words in the silence before the beginning of her speech. Suddenly, I sense the eyes of everyone gathered flicker onto me and the steel girl I thought I'd become effortlessly transforms into a vulnerable scribble.

[charade]

[googlefont="Ubuntu:400"]

Katelyn

Persimmon

Zeki Webb and Pixie Ruined.

The names hardly meant anything to her. In the arena she had only known them as one of the boys that had gotten swarmed shortly after the bloodbath, and the girl that had died at the top of the pillar at Chaske's hands at the end of the feast. But even though she had never talked to either of them, she knew that their deaths had still contributed to her eventual victory because she was preparing to give a speech. Not one of them. As it had been for most of the districts, the speech was generically bad. Talking about the districts loss and her victory. After her emotional outburst in district six, Finter had advised her to try harder to stick to the script for the rest of the tour.

And so, she ascended the steps in silence, glancing at the mayor, Turner, and Valfierno, before turning her attention to the people assembled in front of her. She didn't know what to expect from them, after Patricia had won the previous year, they had been probably been hoping for a repeat victory. Especially since the last time five had gotten a victor was a decade ago. While she could feel for them, it was nothing compared to Eleven's losing streak. Though, now that she had broken it that streak belonged only to the three middle districts. Deep breaths, she told herself as the words started across the teleprompter. Then a thank you broke the silence. Katelyn paused and brought her gaze to the brunette that had spoken; in fact, nearly everyone did.

A relative of pixie, judging from where she stood. Katelyn's mouth moved, but no sound came out. A thank you was the last thing she had expected, least of all in public. And for what? For killing Chaske? For being the bringer of a vengeance she hadn't even known had existed? That someone would be thankful that she killed someone was a concept she had trouble wrapping her head around. And so a minute or more passed with the cameras rolling until her escort gave her a nudge and a whisper to get on with it. She stumbled over the words, but managed to get it all out. Once it was over, she descended the steps in a hurry, wanting to catch the girl before the crowd swallowed her up.

"Hey! You!" she called out. "I'm sorry about...her. But please. Don't thank me for killing someone." she finished in a sad tone. The weight of the lives she had taken would follow her for the rest of her life, and she did not want to ever let herself even begin to think that it wasn't a bad thing in any capacity.

made by anzie

[D6f Carmen Cantelou [aza]]

V I O L A

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The feeling of being watched was not one in which I was enjoying, although the observation of my foolishness seemed to be shortlived at Katelyn began her speech. 

The words that she speaks are not hers. I've heard Patricia Valfierno's speech, Leon Krigel's too. They are just an object forced onto the stage to repeat the words threaded into them by the Capitol. No meaning, no care - they are empty. A lot like me.

The wind whistled between the trees behind me and with it, Katelyn's speech came to an end. The crowd seemed eery, the atmosphere: numbing. The only thing that lifts me from the bitterness is the sound of a voice in my ear.

"Hey, you!"

The words surround me and I immediately turn towards them. Much to my surprise, it's the voice of Katelyn.

"I'm sorry about...her. But please. Don't thank me for killing someone."

It was somewhat idiotic of me to thank  her for the death of a teenager. But, he was not innocent. Neither was Pixie, neither is Katelyn. Dwelling on grey thoughts about death make me wonder whether being killed is the easy way out - a short burst of pain before spreading your wings and being free. Away from the sickness, away from the corruptness.

"..'Her'?"

The hesitation between the two words she'd said - something I had previously overlooked - make it quite obvious that she had forgotten Pixie's name. Perhaps Chaske Parks was never the enemy, in some ways, it is Katelyn Persimmon herself.  Admittedly, they had never encountered each other in the arena, yet remembering a name takes the least of efforts. It is a small thing to do, but would be remembered - always.

"You're alive because my sister is dead and you can't even say her name?"

I can't help but speak again after my initial response. This time, my words are not out of utter disgrace and have thought. But before I can think further about my second outburst, I can't help but remember her. Her face, her hair, her smile on a rainy day, the comfort of her presence-- it's all been ripped and shredded now. Never again shall I feel the warmth of Pixie's being, never again because of her.

The pitter patter of the crowd leaving echos around me and I look Katelyn Persimmon straight in the eye. I can feel my own tearing up, but after watching my sister fight and die, I must learn from her and learn to be strong even when you are wilting. My jaw clenches and my eyes continue to stare directly into the pupil of her eye. So black and gloomy, ominous and unforgiving.

I look into her eyes and see nothing.

No emotion, no sorry, no soul.

Just a girl who has won the 69th Hunger Games.

A girl who won because my sister is dead.

[charade]

[googlefont="Ubuntu:400"]

Katelyn

Persimmon

Of all the responses Katelyn could have prepared herself for, she still was unprepared for the outburst. "You're alive because my sister is dead and you can't even say her name?" Katelyn's mouth worked silently for a moment as she tried to comprehend what just happened. She hadn't said the name because it was difficult. Not because...because. For a moment, Katelyn was at the foot of the ice pillar again. A cannon fired and she knew that Chaske had killed the girl up there. And then she was running after her allies before he descended to do the same to her.

Offending one of the bereaved was the last thing that she had intended to do. The hurt in the other girls eyes was palpable. Katelyn could feel it boiling her eyes in their sockets, but she kept the gaze matched until her eyes started to water. Just like the girl. A girl that Katelyn had been like once. Several weeks and a lifetime ago. She coughed awkwardly and sniffed before she started to reply.

"Pixie Ruined. Mystic Trotter. Kolton Enim. Daphne Riot... the list goes on." she ground out with difficulty. "I know them all. Sometimes its..hard to say them. Makes what happened more real. I... It seems like a betrayal." she said as her head drooped in shame. "I haven't earned the right to say their names. I didn't know anything about them in the arena and it seems cruel to act like I do now."

She didn't expect anyone to understand what she had gone through in the arena, or how it still haunted her every time she closed her eyes for sleep, but if anything, she wanted the girl to know that the life she was living would never include forgetting the people that died instead of her. "I'll remember the twenty-three of them for the rest of my life."

made by anzie