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Lekhika
Wide eyed little bird
- Joined
- Jan 7, 2020
Goodbyes and sorries and sentiments.
She had never been able to afford those luxuries. Neither had she ever let a chink form in the fine mask she wore. Not since she had heard her father sing his last song, not since her mother had smiled for the last time, and not since she was old enough to realise that she was destined to die. It had to come really, Seam, District 12 was home to droves of people, dying a slow death in their race to live. It was either starvation, the mines, or the games. As it was, the games weren’t a bad way to go.
Perhaps that was why she had volunteered.
Katniss Everdeen, tribute from District 12, a volunteer.
As she looked out the window, during the drive from the Justice Building to the Train Station, District 12 vanished from view. She did wonder why her eyes didn’t sting from tears at the thought that she might never return. She had no answer. This night would be hell for her sister, instead of whom she had chosen to take the call. The call for the Hunger Games, a sick punishment, glorified as tradition in a world so hopeless.
The reaping was a blur. Every moment from when she had heard her sister’s name come out of Effie Trinket’s painted lips, was a rapid blur. It was overwhelming, so much that she had barely registered his name being called out after she rose to the stage to take Primrose’s place among silent salutes.
Gale.
What and whom could one blame when there was no fate, no god, and no power above them other than the Capitol? Surely they had ears everywhere, even in the hollow tree trunks in the Meadow. There was only one reason why they would both be picked as tributes, surely it was for all their slandering against the Capitol in hushed whispers deep in the woods. He was her hunting partner, the only one that she trusted in all of Seam. The only one that had seen her smile.
Except, she hadn’t been picked and he had no choice. Gale had registered for tesserae for more times than anyone she knew. Even if it was his last year among the names in the glass ball, it was only simple logic that he got called. It was her last year too, and at eighteen, they both found themselves thrown into a fight for survival.
She remembered glancing at him once or twice since the reaping, ushered away and flanked by Peacekeepers barely moments after their fates had been sealed. Her mother had been a walking corpse, and Prim had been beside herself. She had managed to be strong, give them uplifting, hollow words in goodbye. Her hands went up to the pin at her chest, fingers felt at the wrought metal bird. The mockingjay. If only she had half the indomitable spirit of jabberjays, she may survive this after all. It had barely been an hour, perhaps she had lost sense of time. It was real, Katniss pinched herself and plucked at the threads of her mother’s dress. She was going to the Capitol.
The Train Station came too soon, or late, she would never remember. When they opened their doors to lavishness the kind that she’d never seen before, like an automaton, she stepped in. A hand steadied her, she didn’t even know whose it was. Gale’s or perhaps Effie’s. Katniss walked along the rocking corridors, led to her cabin in their very own compartment of luxury. It was nothing like the trains that carried coal, the tributes had luxury on wheels while they were carried to slaughter.
The cabin held a bed, dressers, a mirror and heavy curtained windows. She pulled the drapes open to watch as the districts whizzed by in breakneck speed. She had been instructed to rest, change, look presentable. Katniss glanced down at herself. Wasn’t it good enough? She was dressed in her mother’s gown, a neat one indeed. At the Capitol they wouldn’t touch the thing with a thirty foot pole even if one had to wear it to a funeral. Her slippers were clean, and she had scrubbed herself thoroughly. Yet, the aura of soot remained. The signature style of Seam, coal and despair. Her dark hair was coiled up in a long braid that her mother had worked on. She looked into the mirror where grey eyes stared at her from a pale face. She didn’t quite care what she wore, or what she looked like. But to the thousands of shallow Capitol citizens, that was all that mattered.
Mindlessly she pulled open the drawers of the dresser, lined clothes in colours and styles she couldn’t fathom in her wildest dreams. Katniss pulled out a blue shirt and trousers, slipping into them as if on autopilot.
She couldn’t afford to think of home. She mustn’t worry about Prim and her mother. She shouldn’t think as to who would keep them safe, fed and consoled. It was moot point after all. She felt the anger surge within her, and at that very moment she wanted to punch and kick at everything around her to turn it into dust. Futile, it was all futile.
Was he going through the same tumble of emotions? Was he angry? Was he sad? Her mind finally went to Gale. A ghost of a smile threatened to play at the corner of her lips as she finally stepped out onto the rocking corridor to head to the dining car. She had to meet him along with the rest of her coterie. Her guide and mentor, and Effie Trinket. Perhaps the few days would be a bit more tolerable. They could hunt together, if the arena had a forest in it. She shuddered at the thought of it being plain desert rife with poisonous snakes. It could be anything really, but with Gale, maybe they could have each other’s back. Hunting and surviving like it was just the Meadow outside the electric wire fence that coiled around Seam.
It was then the realisation hit her, sinking in the pits of her belly like a large and merciless lump of coal.
There could only be one winner.
She had never been able to afford those luxuries. Neither had she ever let a chink form in the fine mask she wore. Not since she had heard her father sing his last song, not since her mother had smiled for the last time, and not since she was old enough to realise that she was destined to die. It had to come really, Seam, District 12 was home to droves of people, dying a slow death in their race to live. It was either starvation, the mines, or the games. As it was, the games weren’t a bad way to go.
Perhaps that was why she had volunteered.
Katniss Everdeen, tribute from District 12, a volunteer.
As she looked out the window, during the drive from the Justice Building to the Train Station, District 12 vanished from view. She did wonder why her eyes didn’t sting from tears at the thought that she might never return. She had no answer. This night would be hell for her sister, instead of whom she had chosen to take the call. The call for the Hunger Games, a sick punishment, glorified as tradition in a world so hopeless.
The reaping was a blur. Every moment from when she had heard her sister’s name come out of Effie Trinket’s painted lips, was a rapid blur. It was overwhelming, so much that she had barely registered his name being called out after she rose to the stage to take Primrose’s place among silent salutes.
Gale.
What and whom could one blame when there was no fate, no god, and no power above them other than the Capitol? Surely they had ears everywhere, even in the hollow tree trunks in the Meadow. There was only one reason why they would both be picked as tributes, surely it was for all their slandering against the Capitol in hushed whispers deep in the woods. He was her hunting partner, the only one that she trusted in all of Seam. The only one that had seen her smile.
Except, she hadn’t been picked and he had no choice. Gale had registered for tesserae for more times than anyone she knew. Even if it was his last year among the names in the glass ball, it was only simple logic that he got called. It was her last year too, and at eighteen, they both found themselves thrown into a fight for survival.
She remembered glancing at him once or twice since the reaping, ushered away and flanked by Peacekeepers barely moments after their fates had been sealed. Her mother had been a walking corpse, and Prim had been beside herself. She had managed to be strong, give them uplifting, hollow words in goodbye. Her hands went up to the pin at her chest, fingers felt at the wrought metal bird. The mockingjay. If only she had half the indomitable spirit of jabberjays, she may survive this after all. It had barely been an hour, perhaps she had lost sense of time. It was real, Katniss pinched herself and plucked at the threads of her mother’s dress. She was going to the Capitol.
The Train Station came too soon, or late, she would never remember. When they opened their doors to lavishness the kind that she’d never seen before, like an automaton, she stepped in. A hand steadied her, she didn’t even know whose it was. Gale’s or perhaps Effie’s. Katniss walked along the rocking corridors, led to her cabin in their very own compartment of luxury. It was nothing like the trains that carried coal, the tributes had luxury on wheels while they were carried to slaughter.
The cabin held a bed, dressers, a mirror and heavy curtained windows. She pulled the drapes open to watch as the districts whizzed by in breakneck speed. She had been instructed to rest, change, look presentable. Katniss glanced down at herself. Wasn’t it good enough? She was dressed in her mother’s gown, a neat one indeed. At the Capitol they wouldn’t touch the thing with a thirty foot pole even if one had to wear it to a funeral. Her slippers were clean, and she had scrubbed herself thoroughly. Yet, the aura of soot remained. The signature style of Seam, coal and despair. Her dark hair was coiled up in a long braid that her mother had worked on. She looked into the mirror where grey eyes stared at her from a pale face. She didn’t quite care what she wore, or what she looked like. But to the thousands of shallow Capitol citizens, that was all that mattered.
Mindlessly she pulled open the drawers of the dresser, lined clothes in colours and styles she couldn’t fathom in her wildest dreams. Katniss pulled out a blue shirt and trousers, slipping into them as if on autopilot.
She couldn’t afford to think of home. She mustn’t worry about Prim and her mother. She shouldn’t think as to who would keep them safe, fed and consoled. It was moot point after all. She felt the anger surge within her, and at that very moment she wanted to punch and kick at everything around her to turn it into dust. Futile, it was all futile.
Was he going through the same tumble of emotions? Was he angry? Was he sad? Her mind finally went to Gale. A ghost of a smile threatened to play at the corner of her lips as she finally stepped out onto the rocking corridor to head to the dining car. She had to meet him along with the rest of her coterie. Her guide and mentor, and Effie Trinket. Perhaps the few days would be a bit more tolerable. They could hunt together, if the arena had a forest in it. She shuddered at the thought of it being plain desert rife with poisonous snakes. It could be anything really, but with Gale, maybe they could have each other’s back. Hunting and surviving like it was just the Meadow outside the electric wire fence that coiled around Seam.
It was then the realisation hit her, sinking in the pits of her belly like a large and merciless lump of coal.
There could only be one winner.
