every little thing pushed into the ring (fight it out to wow the crowd)
Things are reverting back to the way that I'm used to them being. A Peeta that hates and distrusts me had become the truth of reality back home. I had accepted that he was lost and in some ways it was easier. It wasn't like this. Knowing that it wasn't Snow or anyone else that caused this, but that it was by the weight of my actions alone.
Part of me is glad that I don't have to keep up the pretense anymore. That Peeta can finally see me for who I really am - and more importantly, that I'm not denying it anymore. I have no excuses. No defense. Having him think I was wonderful and knowing the truth felt like lying even without a word leaving my lips.
The irony is that I had kept what I had from him in an attempt to salvage his love, something I'd always taken for granted. Until then. And now.
My feet are silent against the soft grass of the forest. I don't know where I'm going or even why, and the only thing driving me is the need to breathe. This canopy of lush green is the only thing that makes me feel like I can. There's a clearing up ahead where I can rest. My body's tired out from what couldn't have been more than a ten minute walk.
Reflecting in the midday light is the glint of fake gold and I move closer even though I know what it is. What it has to be. I walk straight into the giant mouth of the Cornucopia an examine the grooved metal, forged to look like the weaving of an actual basket. There are bloodstains on the sides of it, but they're so old that they might have been mistaken for something else by a random passerby.
I can see every stain and imagine what happened. Who killed them and who was killed. This is a warning. That the Games aren't over and they never will be. The Capitol had been one, whether I noticed it at the time or not. I was being played then, just as I am here.
My hand brushes over the sun-warmed metal, resisting the urge to strike at it, to grab an axe and attempt to destroy it.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, let the 77th Hunger Games begin."
[OOC - ST/LT always welcome - I might be a bit slower until Wednesday. It's....well seeing as she's never in a friendly or happy mood, it's a pretty good time to meet her. The mouth of the horn is about 20 feet high - but that's a rough canon estimate given from the top of her head.]
Part of me is glad that I don't have to keep up the pretense anymore. That Peeta can finally see me for who I really am - and more importantly, that I'm not denying it anymore. I have no excuses. No defense. Having him think I was wonderful and knowing the truth felt like lying even without a word leaving my lips.
The irony is that I had kept what I had from him in an attempt to salvage his love, something I'd always taken for granted. Until then. And now.
My feet are silent against the soft grass of the forest. I don't know where I'm going or even why, and the only thing driving me is the need to breathe. This canopy of lush green is the only thing that makes me feel like I can. There's a clearing up ahead where I can rest. My body's tired out from what couldn't have been more than a ten minute walk.
Reflecting in the midday light is the glint of fake gold and I move closer even though I know what it is. What it has to be. I walk straight into the giant mouth of the Cornucopia an examine the grooved metal, forged to look like the weaving of an actual basket. There are bloodstains on the sides of it, but they're so old that they might have been mistaken for something else by a random passerby.
I can see every stain and imagine what happened. Who killed them and who was killed. This is a warning. That the Games aren't over and they never will be. The Capitol had been one, whether I noticed it at the time or not. I was being played then, just as I am here.
My hand brushes over the sun-warmed metal, resisting the urge to strike at it, to grab an axe and attempt to destroy it.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, let the 77th Hunger Games begin."
[OOC - ST/LT always welcome - I might be a bit slower until Wednesday. It's....well seeing as she's never in a friendly or happy mood, it's a pretty good time to meet her. The mouth of the horn is about 20 feet high - but that's a rough canon estimate given from the top of her head.]