what i'm feeling on the inside [Fangor Day 2]

what i'm feeling on the inside [Fangor Day 2] Oct 24, 2019 11:38:32 GMT -5

Quote

Post by kap on Oct 24, 2019 11:38:32 GMT -5

"I am a fuckin' machine
I'm always strong and
I will never be weak"

♛
The pain from my wounds were finally starting to catch up with me, at least a little bit. They weren't terrible, but I could feel the pain from each of the various places that the mutts' weapons had struck me. One of the wounds gave me a faint feeling of discomfort, which the cut on my right calf. The cut on my neck hurt a little bit more than that, but I didn't let it bother me too much. I just focused on the fact that I was lucky it hadn't cut deeper. The injury that brought the most pain with it was where I was stabbed in the forearm, which was the very first attack to have hit me.

When the sword pierced my skin, it didn't hurt as much as I expected it to at first, but the pain was catching up with me. I couldn't be weak, though. I had to patch myself up, deal with the pain, and just push through. If I let the pain take me over, I'd never survive as long as I needed to to get out of this place alive. Therefore, I used my first aid skills to tend to my injuries, and moved on from it.

I decided to explore the abandoned town a bit more, my weapon still at the ready, just in case more of the mutts I'd just fought, or perhaps something or someone else, decided to come after me, ready to fight. I wanted to be prepared if I needed to go into the heat of a battle again. That's why my axe would never be leaving my side. The entire time I was in this arena, I would be holding my weapon. I would never be taken off guard again.

As I wandered about the abandoned town, I came across a few different items that I deemed to be potentially helpful, and gathered them up to take with me. I supposed having a backup of a weapon wouldn't be a bad thing, should something happen to my axe, so I picked up a fireplace poker that I found within one of the empty homes. There was a comforting aspect of these homes to me. Perhaps it was their emptiness that reminded me of the abandoned shack I often lived in back in District Nine, or maybe it was just the fact that they were actual forms of shelter that I could take refuge in what I had assumed would be a completely unforgiving arena.

Whatever it was, I liked it.

I picked up some other things as I wandered through the homes, too, before eventually settling on a small, empty house to stay in for the night. I felt comforted, being here, but I couldn't let myself get too comfortable. Again, I had to make sure that I was always on guard.

Although, maybe I could sleep, just for a little while...

As I laid there, allowing myself to doze off for just a moment or two, never actually letting go of the axe in my hand, I started to drift off into a dream. Unsurprisingly, I dreamed of back home in District Nine. I was younger, though, in this dream. I was with my father while he was still alive, but I knew that this dream wouldn't stay happy for long. I recognized this moment as it unfolded again in my mind. This was the night my father was killed in front of me.

I watched it all happen again, the man who'd stolen a Peacekeeper's gun breaking into our home and shooting my father to the ground as I cowered in the corner. He shot my father an extra time, this time in the head, as the first shot had hit him in the chest, just to be sure that he was dead. I let out a scream, just like I had when this had all unfolded for real all those years ago. The man turned to look at me, his gun still in hand, and smirked. He was a cruel man, but he still, for some reason that night, did not kill me. Instead, he left my home and was eventually taken down by the Peacekeepers.

Still, to this day, I don't know why he didn't kill me, but I'm not sure if I'm glad that's the case or not. My life went to hell after my father was killed, as my mother wasn't in my life, and I was passed back and forth between my divorced aunt and uncle for a little while until they couldn't afford to take care of me anymore and I was forced to live on the streets by myself. Sure, after a few years, I took in Tobias, an injured hawk that refused to leave after I'd nursed him back to health, but in a way, I was still alone, without any humans to call my loved ones.

I needed change from that life, and that's why I volunteered. That's why I was here.

When I awoke from my dream, I was surprisingly calm. Although, I had a whole new thought in my mind, now. I didn't just come here to change my life. I came here to prove to myself that there's a reason that man who killed my father left me alive. I was supposed to do something worth remembering.