15 | eunice - fantasy dreams

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track #03 in eunice raina seyfield

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track #03 in eunice raina seyfield

stayc // same same


I SKIP dinner and spend the night in my room, staring blankly up at the ceiling; even after Kunboss returns and Zoey tries to talk sense into him. The doors on my level open and then close again; and I hear the sounds of weeping coming from the opposite side of the hallway. Aiden. I still don't know what happened, but it must have caused a huge emotional impact on my friend who usually never cries.

The door at the end of the hallway closes gently – Gwyneth must be happy. Two days ago, she slammed the door in all of our faces. Her mom's return has definitely put a well-deserved smile on my best friend's face.

I'm going to go do the mission tomorrow morning, so I need to wake up earlier to head to the sports centre; I quickly reach for the alarm clock on my bedside table and set it for 7:30.

I pull myself out of my state and head towards the wardrobe, picking out an outfit that will conceal my identity, then flop myself down on my bed again, dozing off shortly after.

The sleep was dreamless – something I had learned to appreciate over the years. When I was younger, I always dreamed of fantasies – princesses and queens, white horses and prince charmings. As I slowly matured; even more so after the Hunger Games, my originally peaceful, happy dreams infused with nightmares – people screaming and wailing for help, blood spilling all over the place, armies charging, and life seeping out of my closest friends' eyes.


***


The following day, I wake with a start as my alarm clock yells and screams for me to do so, and I smile at the good sleep I managed to get – the first one in quite a long time. I quickly wash up, change, and sit at my desk applying makeup.

I seldom use makeup, but to disguise myself, I'll use it to transform myself into someone completely different. I apply beige eyeshadow and a foundation of completely different shade compared to my skin color, changing my lips to a dull pink.

I crack a smile at my reflection in my desk mirror, satisfied that I no longer look like the Eunice Raina Seyfield people know, and put the makeup away into a nearby drawer.

Careful not to wake anyone at this early hour, I tiptoe my way down the stairs and retrieve a piece of bread from the bag lying on the kitchen island, slipping my shoes and putting a baseball cap on after eating it quickly.

I unchain my favourite purple bike from the bike stand in the garage, and cycle my way to the small sports centre near the border, staying low and keeping an eye peeled for Byrok agents at the same time.


When I arrive at the place hardly anyone knows about after countless twists and turns, trying to hide myself from view, the receptionist smiles at me and tells me to go to a room on the right side of the hallway.

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