For Whom the Bell Tolls, It Tolls for Thee (Lyndis)

[uwu]

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The current Hunger Game has been a complete shit fest. Four died in the bloodbath, which, from what I've heard, hasn't been that bad. But it wasn't good either. It wouldn't be as bad as what happened when that District 2 girl got attacked when she was reminiscing over her dead friends. What assholes. Did they have nothing better to do? Did they not have enough blood in the bloodbath? I would've loved to see that District 2 girl go farther. At least neither of our tributes took part of that. I highly doubt our male could have done much, anyways. He seemed to have barely gotten out alive. Day 2 was definitely quieter. Only one death, and luckily none from District 6. That wasn't an exciting day, was it? Just a bunch of tributes fighting mutts, except for those two powerhouses. Day 3, though. Day 3 happened. No one likes day 3. The third career died that day, along with a sibling of a previous victor and our male tribute. At least he made it passed the bloodbath. Damn District 3 girl. It was such a close fight... I shake my head. What happened happened. No point in feeling bad. That might be me in the next to years.

I get up out of my seat to distract myself from what I had watched during the day. I need to get out of here. Just need to stretch my legs if nothing else. I crack my back and stretch out my legs before moving on. My legs had nearly fallen asleep from sitting to long. "I'm going out." Looking around, I remembered that I didn't need to announce what I was doing. I was old enough to do what I wanted, and I didn't need to watch anymore of the games. I put on some of my fashionable boots and grab my matching purse before heading out into the open, where I quickly walk back in. Outside appeared so nice that I forgot about how cool it was. I grab a coat, making sure it matched with the rest of my outfit, before going out again.

What should I do? I could always go shopping. I really do need a new dress. I haven't gotten myself nice recently, anyways. I got the typical glazed stares of the guys with their hanging out at me and the annoyed looks of the girls. I also hear the occasional smack from some poor bloke who stared for too long before his girlfriend noticed. Ha, sucker. That's what you get for being looking at other women that way. It's just hard to not stare at a world wonder. I make sure I keep my posture up and my head held high to not let down any of the spectators.

Finally, I arrive at my favorite clothing store. Ahh, finally! I let my smile loose. "Hello, beautiful. Mother's home," I say quietly. I feel an internal buzz rise up in me the more I walk around. There are so many dresses, but so little money. Why do they all have to cost so much? It takes forever to find the perfect dress that I could afford, but I finally am able to find it. It was a dark, cold shade of green with black flowers and stems flowing around it, with a black, somewhat clear back/top. "Hello, sweetie." I go to the changing room to make sure it fit. Damn, it really brings out my eyes. It's so beautiful. I'm surprised it's so cheap.

After a couple minutes of entertaining myself by twirling in it, I finally change out of it and head towards to the registrar. As I walk outside of the changing room area, I accidentally run into a young girl, no older than 13, maybe 14. "I'm sorry about that, dear." I give her a warm, apologetic smile. She looks familiar... Giving her a good luck, I still can't place where I've seen her before. Maybe I've ran into her before, but where? It doesn't matter. I'm staring, and that's rude. "Nice dress, by the way," i say as I notice a fancy black dress she's carrying. "What's the special occasion for?"

[Lyn𝛿is]

[googlefont="Indie Flower:400"]

I didn't really have to watch.

Even if Mother had tried to grab me, I could have run away, could have hid in some corner or closet with my sketchbook again and disappear into my own little world until the sun set and the obnoxious trumpets started blaring the anthem and I'd know for sure who won. Mother says that's all I'm good at doing anyways.

But I froze. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the screen, the ticker at the bottom scrolling with updates on all the tributes, my heart pounding harder and harder as the Gamemakers' designs forced them closer together. All sorts of commentary on how Jackson would inevitably run across the young girl from Three again, the one he'd helped out of the bloodbath, and commentary on what they predicted would happen. There was nothing else to think about, even when one wasn't looking at the television, even if whether or not we watched wouldn't change the outcome of what was about to happen in the arena.

Mother made dinner, and there was nothing but small talk and silence at the dinner table, with occasional glances at the screen. If it came down to a fight, the pundits were claiming, they would all bet on Jackson, citing odds anywhere from 70% to 99%. It made sense, after all. He was older, stronger, and had both his legs. There was no reason to worry, with no other tributes or threatening mutts in their area. Maybe they would ally with each other and not fight at all.

The dots on the arena map inched closer, 50 feet, 20, 10. Then the javelin flew through the air and pierced her stomach, and any hope that they would ally disappeared.

DIE, YOU MONSTER!

But she was just another kid. A kid no older than I am, and I can only hope he had been merely mistaken, that he didn't intend to attack her. I have never seen Jackson acting so cruelly. But whatever he intended didn't matter.

You... saved me. I almost trusted...

I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was you.

He... he wouldn't lie, would he? But I can't be sure. Nothing feels sure anymore.

I hate you...

Tell my family that I loved them, and that I wish I could have seen them again.

All the cameras were on the two of them. The little graph of odds at the bottom of the screen inched closer and closer to Deja's side. Back and forth, the audio cut between the pundits and the sounds of the actual battle. My throat tightened, and I brought my knees to my chest and made myself very small. The reporter's speaking seemed to blur in and out.

HOW DARE YOU? You... you are no better than them.

You aren't the only one who has had shit happen to them.

My brother was not a monster. I can remember all the times he comforted me, all the times he stood up to people. Yet this is the same person that attacked a girl a head smaller than him, that turned on her even after he saved her. His words echo hollowly, reminding me of Mother when she accuses me of being ungrateful.

They say the arena changes people. I don't want to believe that my brother died a monster.

Jackson of district six, please sleep well. I'm sorry it had to end this way.

The screen cut away, and the world erupted in noise around me. Distantly, I heard someone shouting my name.

---

Two hours in this damnable shopping mall, and all I want is to curl up somewhere and hide. It's too loud, too bright, too smelly, too crowded, and I mustn't do anything but stand quietly and try on dress after dress that Mother decides on.

The first one was too big. The second one felt like worms crawling on my skin. The third one was 'inappropriate'.

Your brother would think it disrespectful to wear something so informal to the funeral, Mother explains.

But he's dead, he can't think anything, I blurt out, and I immediately regret the statement even though it's true because Mother grabs me by the collar and yells about talking back to authority again. I didn't mean to talk back or to make her angry.

The fourth dress is scratchy and spiky and makes me itch all over even after I've taken it off. This is why I hate clothes shopping. Mother picks out things I hate, and I pick out things that she says are too childish, until she finally loses her patience and uses her Deal With It Because I Said So voice.

I don't get the point of wearing black or having all this ceremonial stuff anyways. It's not like you can really do anything for someone after they die. I wish Jackson were here and he could explain things to me because every time I try to talk to Mother the past few days she just gets angry. I guess only adults are allowed to get angry and yell at people. But Jackson will never be able to explain anything to me ever again.

Thinking about this makes my stomach hurt, and I'm not paying attention when I turn the corner until I run into a girl much older and taller than I am. I'm sorry, we say simultaneously. I remember when Mother once drilled me on when to say sorry until I could get it right.

Nice dress, by the way, the girl continues, gesturing at the dress. What's the special occasion for?

It's for my brother's funeral, I answer, to her second sentence. It's not a nice dress at all, but Mother says I should never criticize something directly and if I want to do so I should say something roundabout that is almost a lie. And that if I can't think of anything it's always better to not respond than to say something rude. And then I remember that it's also rude to not look at someone when they're talking to you, so I look up. She's smiling at me.

Caitlin Samuels

you were always there to hold my hand
when times were hard to understand
but now the tides of time have turned
they keep changing

OOC: uwu

[uwu]

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The girls doesn't seem to happy, but I'm not sure if it was because of what i said or did, or something else. It isn't until her answer that makes it clear to me what's wrong. "It's for my brother's funeral." Funeral? I haven't heard of... oh. I don't know why it took so long for the statement to click. I guess I didn't imagine that he'd have a family, or at least what they looked like. That must suck, having to lose a family member. In my cause, I wouldn't mind losing a couple. I don't think most family's are like mine, though. They're more functioning than mine.

"I'm really sorry about your lose." I try to give her a sympathetic smile. "He fought valiantly. It was extremely close as well, it seemed. I really wish he had survived, though. He seemed like a kind soul." Talking about losing someone starts to hurt, even though I never lost anybody that mattered to me. Maybe i'm feeling this because I never ran into a sibling of a tribute from District 6. At least it shows that I'm human.

"I can buy that dress for you so your family doesn't have to. Or at least I can give you the money for it." The small sympathy I had changed to slight regret. Will I have enough money for my dress? I can't really take back my offer now, can I? She'll need ti more. It'll probably be hard for her family if they have to pay for the funeral and everything. I shouldn't feel bad about helping. But my dress. I can buy it later. Hopefully. It was such a nice dress, though. Damn. Might as well do something nice.

[Lyn𝛿is]

[googlefont="Indie Flower:400"]

I really wish he had survived, though. He seemed like a kind soul.

But he didn't, I almost say before I catch myself, because it's one of the things Mother reminded me not to say to strangers' wishes like these. They are just trying to sympathize, she tells me, which means to share feelings of suffering or trouble.

If you saw someone crying, she'd tried to explain, wouldn't you want to make them feel better?

Yeah, I'd replied. I'd bring them a box of tissues.

Besides, I haven't been crying. I tried to, earlier, because people say it makes you feel better, but no tears came out anyway. I wonder if it would really make me feel better if I cried, but I think that could only happen if Jackson came back.

I can buy that dress for you so your family doesn't have to. Or at least I can give you the money for it.

The girl's next sentence comes out of her mouth before I can think of how to respond. I can't take the offer! races through my mind. Mother would have a fit if I took a stranger's money! I didn't even like the stupid dress. And besides, what if she didn't mean she actually wanted to give me money, but will keep insisting if I say no because pretending to want to offer people money is the polite thing to do and -

We don't take charity, I end up blurting. Mother's words, coming from my mouth, and I immediately wonder if it was the right thing to say at all.

Caitlin Samuels

seasons range, but you remained the same
a steady heart, a sun to rain
you'll be the light that's shining bright
high above me

OOC: uwu

[uwu]

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She seems to be offset by the statement of gratitude. I wonder how close they were. It would have sucked if they were best friends. I wish my siblings and I were close, but no family can be perfect. It also seemed like she was gonna say something, but then swallowed it. Though curiosity wanted to know what she was going to say, I knew better than to ask.Doesn't matter what she would have said. It's not my place to force her to speak. I doubt that she would be okay if a stranger forced her to speak her personal thoughts. I know I wouldn't.

"We don't take charity." She blurts it out as fast as a canon, making my lips curl up into a smile.]If this was any other situation, I would have called her cute or adorable and given her money. But she had recently lost a loved one, and receiving those type of compliments wouldn't be appropriate at this time. Poor thing. Damn, if it was anyone else, I would have just walked away, but I had to run into a relative to a tribute. Nothing wrong with that, though. It should be an honor, if i was in a career district. They probably need the help, anyways. I must be really tough for them, and she's probably saying that because it's the polite thing to say.

I rummage through my purse and try to find some change. I know this is selfish of my to only give her a little, but this dress is hella cute on me. Damn, now I feel bad. I guess I can continue to look for another cute dress, or I could try to manipulate... no. I can't do that. Maybe I can just ask him to put this dress on hold for me. I was really looking forward to buying it. I guess it can wait another day. I pull out a couple of bills and a few coins and offer it to her. "Don't think of it as charity. Think of it as... as a gift." I don't know how much the dress costs, but I know it'll be a decent amount for it. It should be at least, considering what the prices for dresses in this store are. Regardless if she takes the money, the outcome will be win-win for me. Poor girl, though. And poor family. I would only wish what happened to them on the worst of my enemies.

[Lyn𝛿is]

[googlefont="Indie Flower:400"]

I never know what to do when people offer me things. I've always learned that I shouldn't take gifts from strangers, unless it's something really simple like a piece of candy, and in that case I should not spend too much time deciding, and make sure to look them in the eye and say thank you when they've given it to me.

And money is one of those things you especially shouldn't take from strangers, because hard-working people like us don't do things like that, especially since Dad has plenty at home. But I also shouldn't tell her how much Dad makes, because last time I did that people got angry at him for making so much money, and then I got in trouble.

I back away, so that she can't go shoving the money into my hands or something, and I sort of bring the dress up like I'm trying to hide behind it when I shake my head. Mother would get mad, I tell her, because I don't know what else to say and because it's the truth. I think I should start finding different reasons for these situations soon, before my words start making people think Mother is just angry and mean all the time.

Caitlin Samuels

autumn gold, hosing hold
we are leaves meant to fall
there's a meaning to all that fades

OOC: uwu