Season: Month: Weather: 62nd HG Champion: Peridot Myler, District One
63rd Finale in Progress
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The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins.
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I hear the words and they take a moment to enter my focused mind, take a moment to break through the wall I put up. It's been years since I'd heard those two simple words together, as something not stuttered or scared, but honest and true to heart. Something I didn't bring along.
"Not your fault." Three words in return to her two, probably ones she hasn't heard recently either. Maybe they'll make her day too.
Not my fault? How can he say something so silly? It's always my fault, that's all I've ever known, that's why my parents are gone and my ribs are broken, why I'm here right now and he's being forced to help me. It's always my fault. Always.
I want to answer him, tell him how wrong he is, but I can't. My eyes are starting to close and sleep is washing over me. I wonder if he'll leave me here, wonder if he cares. I open my mouth and only mouth two words.
"Is too." Then my world turns black, and my mind goes blank of everything but my dreams.
"Is too." Her voice, so soft as she fades away from me still sounds like a choir of angels-- No, I can't let myself be taken in by her. I have to stay strong, have to keep my emotions from showing. Emotions are a weakness. Weakness means death.
I finish binding her ribs as she sleeps, gently washing a cut on her arm and putting some thick grasses under her head, before turning to leave. But I can't just go, can I? What if some sort of animal, or a peacekeeper were to wander by and hurt her? I can't just leave.
Turning to a nearby tree, I climb it slowly, to sit and wait for her to wake, out of the way. No one can see me helping her, or they'll all swarm about me like bees to a new flower, and I really do not want that. I'll just wait for her to wake up, think I've left and then go.
I settle against a branch, leaning my head back to watch her passive face as she slumbers on.
He's coming for me. Lev's voice floats through the air as he taunts my mind, calling me to him. I won't go. I hug my knees to my chest refusing to move from the corner of the couch. His steps start to get faster and my breathing picks up. Then suddenly he's on me, grabbing my small form. Blow after blow to my chest until I feel like I can't breath. I gasp for air, but nothing comes.
My eyes open and I sit up, finding myself in a small meadow my ribs screaming. Ah, I cry out at the pain and fear from the nightmare. It felt so real, all so real. He wouldn't let me go.
She thrashes around with the throes of a nightmare, clear in her movement and the words she screams out in her sleep. I want to go down, to wake her, but that would mean revealing myself, and that is something I cannot do, even for the girl with the strange effects on me.
I watch as she opens her eyes, clutching her ribs close in obvious pain. If that were me with the broken ribs, I'd tape them and be back training the next day without a single tear, or a blackout for any reason. But I suppose she doesn't have my father as her father, so that's only to be expected.
I look around me, trying to find Donevin but he's gone. He left me, but it was only expected. I sigh and close my eyes, biting on the inside of my cheek. I need to go home, I have to get back.
I force my eyes open again and bite on my lip until it bleeds. I am determined to get up and walk home, crawl home, what ever it takes.
"Get up, 'Rella." I tell myself, trying to will my feet to move.
"Do you want help?" I can't stop the words from escaping my lips. They had been echoing inside my head, begging to be spoken, but I thought I'd quelled them. I shouldn't help her. I shouldn't have spoken, that will startle her, could make her fall again.
And there I go again, letting my emotions rule myself. I really need to stop that, but there's just something about this small thing in front of me that I just can't help but feel drawn to, like there's some kind of supernatural connection between us.
I jump at the voice coming from behind me, gasping lightly. How long has he been there watching me crumble? Is he silently laughing at how weak I am? I can't blame him, it's only the true.
"You scared me." The only words I can manage to say.
I chuckle inwardly as I swing down out of the tree to stand a few feet from her, taking in her gasp, her expression. I suddenly feel bad for startling her, but I can't help but find it ironic that the one time I'm not trying to scare her, it actually works.
"Do you need help?" I change that one word in there, to change the whole meaning of my question as I walk over to her.
He wants to help me? The thought almost makes me smile, how absurd it is that the boy who hurts everyone wants to help me of all people. I don't understand, and I know I want to, but I can't push my luck.
"Please." I state simply, wanting nothing more than the answer to my unanswerable question.
"Please." Such a common word, especially in my ears. I hear it begging for mercy, begging me not to hit them, everything. But never for my help. Never in a kind of face to face, honest plead for my help. And normally, I wouldn't give it.
I say the words softly, she already is upset and confused. "Do you want me to carry you or can you walk?"
I'm sure he notices my eyes as the widen, almost unable to believe this boy we're all supposed to fear wants to carry me. No, I correct myself. He doesn't want to, he has to. Or does he? My head swirls with the questions, my ribs ache under their bindings and I'm suddenly longing a bed without worries.
"I don't mind, but I don't want to go home." I realize that doesn't help, nor does it answer his question, but I just wanted him to know.
( Kay, quick question, knowing Quara's history, do you think this is a flawed enough personality:
Quara acts happy around most people, putting forth a strong facade. She's a rock in any relationship, but shows all the right emotions. She's very reserved, not very quick to anger, patient, avoids angering others. She's very forgiving, and quite understanding when it comes to helping other people. She hates to see other people in pain.
To most people she meets, she seems like she is a bright, happy person, no matter how bad things are at home. She refuses to let anyone see how badly she gets hurt, or how awful things are, because she's afraid they'll get hurt because of her. Thus, she's very closed off about her personal life, doesn't answer many questions about it because she doesn't lie. Because she doesn't tell people much about herself, she doesn't get very close to people, instead staying aback, making 'friends' mostly for her own, or their own benefit, but growing distant if things get too personal. This means that nobody really knows her, and she likes it that way, that way, nobody else gets hurt.
She's easily startled, very jumpy, and usually on edge because of all that's been done to her. She doesn't like being snuck up on, so anytime someone comes up behind her without her noticing, she's likely to jump or flinch or run away. She doesn't trust people very easily, because all of the people she trusted early on in life turned on her and hurt her in some way.
Being so careful and cautious makes Quara extremely paranoid. A drop of a pencil in class makes her flinch away as if hit, at lunch she sits quietly in her own corner of a lunch table, eyes focused on a book, shutting everyone else out. Anyone who touches her, by merely brushing against her accidentally, or trying to be comforting is met with a small yelp and Quara skidding backwards from the contact with a scared look in her eye. )
I hear her answer, though not really an answer to my question, but good enough. I step over to her, ever so gently picking her up so as not to hurt her ribs, gently holding her. She's like a dwarf in my arms, so small and compact, like a small fairy (^^)
"Which way?" I ask, glancing towards the town in question. I don't have much time before my father gets angry for my being out late, but it doesn't matter. It's not like I'd sleep anyways.
He picks me up gently in his arms and I try not to wince. I breath out slowly and close my eyes for a moment before I'm comfortable. More than that; a feeling I haven't felt since my tenth birthday. I feel safe. Safe in his arms, Donevin's arms, how could I dare feel that way? Only earlier today he threw me to the ground. All the stories, all the rumors... No, I have to stop myself. None of that matters now, but I still don't understand what's running through my head.
He says something, but I'm too lost in my thoughts to realize.
"H-Huh?" I mumble looking up at him, the moon behind his head and the smell of grass with a layer of dew makes the whole moment almost perfect.
I look down at her words, surprised for a moment, and find her staring at my face. I quickly look back up, straight ahead, before those perfect pools of blue can pull me back in. I bite my lip, not looking back down at her, wondering if she can feel the pounding of my heart.
I clear my throat a bit, trying to get the roughness out of it so she cannot tell what her beauty has done to me, and repeat myself, "Which way?"
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