I'm Sorry I Bit You... {Lightning & Chaos}

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

The extrovert aroma within me succumbs to a scentless odor as the moon swirls into our sky for the second night within the Capitol. Not just a year before this isolated behavior plagued me constantly; foreign to the idea that anyone aside from a fellow O’Hana could pertain pleasant company. Words were scarce from my lips, and friends were nonexistent. Then it all subtly shifted without my knowledge. To this day I’m unsure what occurred for me to suddenly desire the grace of Other’s outside of my Family, but socializing became as vital as beer.

Tonight however, is a different story. Silence reigns me, despite the numerous people occupying the District Four dinner table- roaming the entire floor with mingles of a charming sound. Probably doesn't need to be said that yet another beer secretly occupies my drink. Victories ideas most likely consume the thoughts of most people within these seats, while I’ve lost count of the number of alcoholic beverages depleting me before I even enter the Arena. Purely in just the last meal, humorous comments participated me in these gathering events. But now I only crave for conversations with my beer. He still won’t even glance at me, and I’m pathetically wallowing in such. Currently I can not facade any more grins.

Not wanting to appear obviously desperate to leave, I await for desert to excuse myself- slyly still, as to not create suspicion. There’s such an urgency to feel close to the one who’s disowned me as his Sister, and there’s solely a single way to achieve such without him. Being emerged within any water, salty or fresh, sings like his precious voice. Numbness from his decision may carry us both; but I can still recreate the joyous occasions when emotions did reign me, even if the physical remembrance is only vague in comparison.

A wetsuit forms across my body, with an oversized shirt above just incase I’m spotted in travel. And with the addition of vodka, I’m coyly sneaking to the transportation down to the training center. Hopefully no others are hungry for a late night visit to this place, as my existence continues to seek no company. Perhaps tomorrow will be different, as for these hours overbearing sorrows have commenced. And fortunately an abandoned atmosphere welcomes me into the vast gymnasium.

Six light weights of ten pounds each are transferred over to the edge of the pool, where my liquor awaits me. Surely beer suffices my regular requirements, but tonight I seek for a higher substance. Softly though this influence will take me, as I consume a gentle swallow before beginning my personal game. One after another I deliver the weights to sink into the depths of the pool in various spots, naming each as they plummet; Chaos, Lightning, Tempest, Typhoon, Blizzard, and even Storm submerge within the tank. The last has forfeited his membership amongst the O’Hana; but as our motto states, none will be forgotten. Unfortunately though, we will all eventually be left behind in some manner. Just hopefully, never forgotten.

A game can be devised in any such form, especially for someone as myself who adores challenges. Even if solely competing against myself, a play that involves drinking is necessary. With a large gulp of oxygen, I delve into the water to retrieve of all six weights before another breath is allowed. If the task is failed, a inhale of vodka claims as the punishment…which seems to be more of an award. And after succeeding in my objection twice, I decide the rules must be altered. One shot follows triumph, and two if defeated.

Of course my very next round results against me…or perhaps in my favor. The sixth weight refuses to grace my search, and a desperation for air instinctively floats me to the surface after another minute. “Frack!” Coughs past my violent inhales, as I refuse to release of the other five weights. Determination paddles them over to the ledge where they’re lifted upon it, and my own exterior follows behind it. Only my feet and calves are encircled by the water’s embrace, as I recollect my breath.

Right below the dangle of my legs, the sixth weight taunts me in it’s lie against the bottom. “You’re Chaos!” I tittle it specifically in frustration, and down my shame in two hefty sips of the vodka. I would be the last one I’d save. My desolation is broken though, as my senses alert me of another’s echoing footsteps.

“Tuesdays are my nights in the training center!” I joke before visualization on the intruder is provided. Hopefully they’ll retreat to where they came from before I even know who it is…that is, until I am blessed with the view of him.

My lips twist and furrow in a confusion of whether they should grin or frown. But from this distance it appears that a bottle, that’s not containing mere survival water, is occupying his grip. “Oh…hey. Guess I can share this space with you… Unless you want me to leave.” It almost feels as though I’m speaking to a Stranger that I still deeply love, unsure exactly what to say. ‘But I was here first, so you go!’ Tempts to follow my previous sentence, yet I could never formulate such words…I don’t want him to go at all. My eyes glue to the glisten of the pool’s elegant waves.

“I’m sorry for all of this… But I wouldn’t take what I did back. I couldn’t live with myself if you were going into the Arena alone. I just… couldn’t. I don’t care if it’s selfish.” Words seep from me in such low volume, yet travel greatly in the openness of this chamber. “I know I have to stop drinking. But we could always have one last party together…” Begs from my core, as I dare to glance over to Lightning.