Box of Glitter {Jayne/Leticia} Day Four

[kap]

I'm caught up in your expectations
You're trying to make me live your dream

~

The cannon sound from Alja's death still echoed in my ears as I tried to fall asleep, and I never did reach the sweet bliss of slumber that night. The thought of Alja having tried to kill me in my sleep made me fearful that this time, someone would try again, yet succeed in doing so. My mind raced, even with my eyes closed, preventing me from drifting off. I had watched the sun set that night, and now I watched it rise. I'd made my way back to a place I'd been before: grassy plains that seemed to stretch on forever. I could remember being here before.

---

Yesterday, however, in the rockier place, where Alja and I's relationship had grown rocky itself, I helped kill the one person in the arena that I considered a friend at the time. Had she not tried to kill me first, however, the thought of doing so to her never would have entered my mind. I had been a pacifist back in my home of District Twelve, but being here changed that. Alja helped me out of my shell when we fought the mutts, and because of that, I was able to help kill her, too.

I killed a mutt. She killed a mutt. I helped kill her. Damaris ended her.

It was all still going through my mind, and for some reason, it gave me a rush of adrenaline, thinking of the fight. Of course, there was a feeling of fear and a sense of regret there, too. All of these different conflicting emotions made my mind race, not sure where to settle and what thoughts to land on. All of this was so much, and it shook me to my core.

---

When I'd reached the grassy area I'd been in before, something was different. This time, twelve straw bales were in a circle, guitars rested against a few, and there were alcohol bottles near a bonfire.

Immediately, I approached one of the straw bales with a guitar leaned against it and picked up the guitar, strumming it gently. It reminded me of home. At home, I had played my guitar a lot. It had been a release for me. There were other tributes here, being seemingly peaceful, so surely a little music wouldn't hurt right then, right?

I began to play a tune on my newly acquired guitar. It was a song I'd often played back in District Twelve in the Laws family home. It was a soft yet cheery tune, and it brought a slight smile to my face, pushing the thoughts of yesterday from my mind. While I strummed the guitar, I considered using the guitar pick that was stung around the chain on my neck, but decided against it. I didn't want to lose it. I'd just play my song, and see where it took me.

---

I stopped playing for a moment or two, and looked around at those nearby. Closest to me was a girl that I recognized as being from Six. I couldn't recall her name, but I smiled at her. Hopefully, we could have some peace for the time being.

Peace would be all I could ask for at a time like this.

It was hard to find peace in life sometimes, but it would be quite nice right now.

Life was like a box of glitter; beautiful, yet a bit messy.

lyrics: "Silent Scream" by Anna Blue

jess

[jess]

l e t i c i a
♆

Too many cannons fire after her escape from the winged mutt - she counts each one, each blast of the cannon sending fear through her body. The rest of the day is spent hiding, walking and wondering if Ronan has killed or been killed yet. She's sure he's capable of it, considering the way he talks to others, and the way he so easily broke the blind boy's nose on the second day.

If he wasn't her district partner, she'd feel more scared of him; but, despite its past, there is some kind of solidarity within District Six these games. Her, Ronan and Teddy, a small team for a district where victors are few and far between. It's in stark contrast to her family back home, where there's too many kids to give attention to any of them and all they were seen as was helpful hands around the bakery.

She much prefers the extravagant life she was given in the Capitol to life at the bakery, but she'll never give the Capitol the satisfaction of knowing that, and she knows that this adventure can only end one of two ways for her.

She emerges from hiding for the anthem. In the sky, the faces of the dead begin to flash, a face and a number to match each cannon fire she heard that day.

The boy from Four. She thinks his name began with a B, but she's never come across him in the arena or in the training centre. The next boy is familiar - Stanley, the boy from Eight, the one who greeted her at the rock on the second day. He had been so alive then, until he wasn't. Her heart grieves for a boy she never even greeted back. The girl from Nine, the girl from Ten, and both tributes from Eleven. She wonders who killed them. The cannons were scattered through the day, but occasionally there would be two in close proximity to each other, only serving to scare her more.

The sponsors are not as generous as they were on the first day. Having eaten the cheese, there's nothing left for her, so she finishes the rest of her water and vows to fill it up again the next day.

Resting her head upon the mail sack, she tries to push away all her thoughts, choosing instead to think of home and her siblings and everything that is right in the world.

♆

When she wakes, the first thing she does is trace the outline of the wound on her back. It trails down her back, resembling something like stripped angel wings. She thinks of the wings on the horse, and how yesterday she managed to fly, even if just for a few moments. 

Ideally, she'd like to view it in a mirror, but she knows that the arena does not provide such petty luxuries. Besides, she's not sure if she wants to see herself right now - unkempt, filthy and blood-stained. She attempts to tie her hair back the same way it's been the whole time in the arena, and feels how matted it is. She sees dried blood on her shoulder, staining the poncho, and realises - it doesn't matter.

Battle wounds. The blood adorning her poncho is reminiscent of how she slayed two mutts and lived to tell the tale. The beating of her heart represents her vitality. It's more than what can be said for those shown on the anthem last night. She may not live for much longer - although the thought makes her shiver - but while she lives, she fights.

She comes across an expanse of grass as she travels, and finds a strange sight laid out for her.

Straw bales, guitars, jugs - and other tributes.

She grips her weapon, until she realises she doesn't have to.

It's peaceful - nobody fights, and from beside her, she hears the gentle strum of a guitar. The tune is soft, and she turns to find the source, which turns out to be the girl from Twelve. She's not sure of her name, but the girl stops playing and smiles at her, which makes her jump, realising the only tribute she's spoken to since the Games started was Ronan, and even that was just a few words.

The girl doesn't speak, so she pipes up, somehow finding her voice after days of silence.

"Did you learn that in Twelve?" She didn't know they even had guitars in Twelve; it's the poorest of all the districts, so she assumed people would be too focused on trying not to starve. Maybe that's a rude assumption to make. Maybe this girl was on the richer side of Twelve.

Maybe you should just stop thinking, Leticia.

It sounds like a good idea, but she knows it'll never work.

♆

[kap]

I'm caught up in your expectations
You're trying to make me live your dream

~

It felt almost strange, now, thinking of my home back in Twelve while I was in this arena. The only parts of Twelve that had really crossed my mind were Carter and the rest of the Laws family since I'd been here. I didn't really think too much of my guitar, my birth family, or the place of District Twelve itself. Now, though, it was all so ever-present in my mind, especially when this girl spoke to me.

"Did you learn that in Twelve?" she asked of me. I nodded in response.

"Yeah, I taught myself on my father's old guitar back home. I love music." I told her this and thought of my father. Not of Mr. Laws, but of Mr. Ashbrook, the man who was my biological father. I didn't know him as well as I wish I had, and I had no idea what he was up to today. It made me miss him, no matter how little I knew about him.

Yes, I appreciated the Laws family, and I loved living with them. I was forever grateful that they'd taken me in. It didn't mean, however, that Ashbrook was no longer part of my name. I wished I'd known more about that part of my name, though. Did my parents have any more children after I was gone, giving me siblings I didn't know about? Were my parents even still alive and well? There was so much I didn't know about them that I wished I had learned.

Oh well. Things like that were too far out of reach right now, when it really came down to it. I was in the arena, and they, if they were still around, were back in Twelve, living their lives they way they did.

I looked to the girl from Six. She seemed kind in the way she spoke. Perhaps I should have introduced myself. It would be nice to be around someone who seemed kind again, even though we would inevitably all have to kill one another. Alja had been kind, until she'd tried to kill me, and I appreciated that. Even if, in the end, we'd turned on one another, the friendship that lasted before then had been nice.

"I'm Jayne. What's your name? You seem kind, and I'll make a point to remember that kindness and your name." I said this to her with truth. I meant everything I said, as I hated to tell a lie. My fingers gave a quick strum to the guitar again before we were back to hearing the dull background sounds of other tributes' indistinct conversations once more.

lyrics: "Silent Scream" by Anna Blue

[jess]

l e t i c i a
♆

The girl responds, and she's almost wistful that the gentle music had to stop. The air feels empty without it - how long has it been since she last heard music? She doesn't have time to ponder it, and is somewhat grateful for that.

"Yeah, I taught myself on my father's old guitar back home. I love music." She is curious about the girl's use of the word 'old', but decides against questioning it. She's never been passionate about music, never teaching herself anything due to her daily schedule being busy enough as it is. She wishes she had more time to learn about nice things.

Being faced with the possibility of her life ending allows her to fully reflect on everything she's accomplished. And, as much as she hates it, she ends up resenting her parents; not only for forcing her to work for their bakery in her free time, but also removing any other opportunities from her life. Any chance she had of picking up a new hobby was taken away by the extensive hours spent baking bread.

Resentment feels ugly. Her skin crawls with the desire to go back and change things. Stand up to her parents, tell them she was tired of being some kind of slave to them. If her and Delia protested together, they could have done anything. Anything.

But Delia's there, and she's here, and she's not sure if she'll ever be there again, and there's no simpler way she can say it.

"I'm Jayne. What's your name? You seem kind, and I'll make a point to remember that kindness and your name."

Is Leticia Neptune kind? She thinks of her time in the arena - she sliced off a girl's ear, killed two mutts and took some hits along the way. In terms of the tributes in the arena, she's probably one of the cleanest, hands not yet tainted with the death of another. Her conscience is as clear as it can be in the circumstances, the weight of her attack on the girl in the bloodbath still heavy on her shoulders, and the faces in the sky haunting her every time she closes her eyes.

But she's not sure a normal person would call her kind. Normal people don't hurt others. Just because she hasn't hurt as much or as many as some of the others here, it doesn't mean she hasn't hurt at all.

Then again, Jayne is here as well. She wonders if she's killed anyone yet, or helped in killing someone. The thought disturbs her, so she pushes it aside; the girl is not hurting her, and she won't hurt the girl. She imprints the image of her face in her memory. Kindness is hard to find here, so she makes sure to remember it.

"I'm Leticia." Her voice comes out somewhat monotonous, so she attempts to smile to make up for it. "Leticia Neptune. District Six. Thirteen." She tags her age on the end - there's some pride to be had in being the youngest tribute, yet surviving this long.

There were plans for her fourteenth birthday, at some point. But she's sure they're long gone now.

♆

[kap]

I'm caught up in your expectations
You're trying to make me live your dream

~

"I'm Leticia." She told me this with a smile, then continuing. "Leticia Neptune. District Six. Thirteen."

I didn't expect her to give her last name, or her age, as those things didn't seem to matter to most people in the arena, but it was oddly nice to hear, in my opinion. Perhaps I should've given her the same information. She was a couple of years younger than me, and I believe the youngest tribute. She seemed to be friendly, as I'd noticed before, and it made it so that I wondered what she thought of me.

"Jayne Ashbrook-Laws, that would make me, then," I said, adding my last name this time with a smile. "I'm fifteen, from District Twelve. You seem to already know where I was from, though," I told her with a smile. "It's nice to meet you, Leticia Neptune. Your name's pretty. Is Leticia a family name?" I asked her. I suppose the only reason I asked her that was out of genuine curiosity. It was nice to have a normal, peaceful conversation like this in such a hellish place like the arena.

It was likely that my curiosity stemmed from the fact that I shared a first name with my mother. Should I tell her that, I wondered? I supposed that I may as well.

"My mother's name is Jayne, like mine." I didn't mention that it was my 'biological mother' rather than just my 'mother', as it didn't seem necessary to go that far in detail with someone I barely knew and may not know for very long.

Besides, there was always a way that people could use information against you, even if they seemed as kind as Leticia did. What if she became an enemy later? I didn't like to think about that possibility, but I didn't say too much more.

The lack of music seemed like it was gnawing at me now, so I strummed a bit more on the guitar, a light hum emerging from me. I wasn't too loud, as I still wanted to hear Leticia's response to my question, but it was still nice to have a tune playing in the background. I didn't realize how much I had missed music until now.

lyrics: "Silent Scream" by Anna Blue