chastity nightmare {d1} first hunger games. fin

[d4 tati pelotte [azalea]]

chastity nightmare
district one
fifteen

[d4 tati pelotte [azalea]]

The sepia moments are the most prismatic daydreams to her. Because there is something about life that was easier then — perhaps childhood naivety is to blame, or rather acceptance but acting oblivious to protect a peaceful state of mind. Whatever the case, she had managed to become a grand queen in the wake of her mother's destruction. 

Her death was a velvet suffocation — something about it was softer than a child would expect. A sweet release where the nectar of life became more like an addictive drug for the clouds above; the clouds seemed whiter than white, the sky seemed bluer than blue and the day was perfect for a fall. The loneliness that followed was the asphyxiation, for it cut off the supply of love she so desperately needed. So she watched as the sky fell, hoping that the plummeting stars would keep her company.

But it was the stars that gave her the taste of hell that she broke herself trying to replicate. For the company the fallen stars provided was not warm, rather it was red hot and she caught ablaze, becoming a scarlet delinquent. The kindness that once characterised her was killed, and she thinks it was one of the first victims of war. Nature had started to nurture her, so the streets were more of a home than her poisonous father, and she had become known locally as the girl who wandered; aimless in her movements but certain in her headspace.

She would shoot herself up to a heroine: basking in the attention of curious eyes, nosy strangers. The attention was glory to the girl who didn't need love anymore. Their gazes were a replacement for the warmth of love — they were a shade of cool that she felt beneath her skin, straight to the bone. Love felt a distance away, as if she and it had been separated entirely, cut completely clean. Attention made her feel famous and by her logic, feeling famous meant that she did not have to worry about potential massacre and subsequent dependency.

It made her forget about the wars around her. Delusion became a dame.

Potential massacre did not come knocking, it never would, for she was already outside. When it came, she went and it was as simple as that. She thought she knew isolation before they took her — she was wrong.

[d4 tati pelotte [azalea]]

She was missing in both senses: she was missing the streets she felt were her kingdom and she was missing to her father who barely noticed she wasn't there.

She tried to care — but that was not the person she had become. She was already a heartless runaway and would prioritise the drama of a click-bang shotgun over sentimentality and words that were said with meaning. She did not consider herself ruined by the war, but it did harden her in a way different to most; the timing of her mother's death coinciding with conversation like sparks singed her to a coal she had not been before.

She looked in the mirror and did not feel ugly, she was a burned baby and it gave rise to a new love. She liked who she had become. She knew it was a feeling deeper than a mother's love, but there was something about it that was darker too. It was a noir obsession, a romance that grew from the blackness and bleakness of her struggles. It was as if her sanity had planted the seed of self-love to distract from the destruction.

She realised what she had when she was already gone.

Wars once raged and she could watch from the sidelines, smiling to herself as a sort of rehab, but now she was part of it. Taken by a stranger who saw her wander and began to wonder himself: he figured the only way to find out about her would be to make her a soldier for the world to see. It would make them see that all beauty would crack and there was a personal bet on whether she would become one part of her namesake or the other.

Chastity Nightmare — truth be told, she could only be a good kind of bad.

But she was clever and knew that she could go from infamous to instrumental — my, my, my — if only she could get out of her head. She still believed that pressure would turn her coal to a diamond.

[L△LIA]

It made her forget about the wars around her. Delusion became a dame. Love having her perspective on the war in this mix of tributes to really shake things up! Trying to watch from the sidelines and getting pulled in anyhow, oof.

ACCEPTED!