100 YEARS

0. Somewhere Between

         These days, Isa doesn't sleep. At night she'll climb into bed, close her eyes, and try to conjure a dream. Last year her dreaming was constant, and she would often find herself waking up in the middle of the night, her mind swirling with inspiration. Sometimes the prospect of a new design would be so alluring she'd drag herself out of bed and scribble half mad notes into her journal. Then if her mind was particularly restless, she'd barrel into her older sister's room and start raving about theories and components.

Isa knew that Lesia loathed being awoken at two in the morning, but she'd nod at her wearily, murmuring along in approval and ask questions she knew Isa would enjoy. Lesia wasn't an inventor which was rare in District 3, most in their District would go on to become inventors of varying skill. While it was clear Isa was a promising candidate for an inventor, Lesia wasn't. In District 3 intelligence is valued above all else, the type of intelligence Isa was born with. Formulating designs and building trinkets so innovative life becomes almost too easy. But Lesia was smart in a different way, she was observant in a way that meant she knew what you were thinking before you did. Isa was always proud of her older sister, following her around and trying to replicate her calming nature, her ability to soothe all problems. In their community Lesia was well respected as someone who could manage people well. She was constantly being called away to solve problems within the community, her little sister at her heels.

The thing about Lesia was she burned splendidly, she didn't waver or dim. In District 3, astronomy was often used by the people to embellish their sentences. People were often referred to as stars, moons, sometimes even the sun. To Isa, Lesia was more than a sun, she was more than every discovery of the beyond. She was too much and then she wasn't anything.

It's been a year since Lesia died in the Hunger Games and Isa can't sleep because she's afraid of waking up without her. Without Lesia there's no one to hear her ramble at odd hours of the morning or satisfy her curious mind with pointless questions. Not that Isa dreams anymore anyway.

Shortly before the games Isa was offered a place as an apprentice inventor, the first step towards her goal. The only person more ecstatic than her was Lesia. That day Lesia bought cakes from the market and the both of them along with their youngest sister Annalise had celebrated Isa's new position. Even her dad had acknowledged her accomplishment.

For the next few weeks Isa buried herself in chemicals, tools, and equations, entirely in her element. Although, when your focused like that, completely unaware, anything can sneak up on you. A deadline, a missed appointment, the death of your sister. The morning Lesia's banner displayed itself on the screen, Isa destroyed everything in her workshop. Pieces of metal flew around her, grazing her hands. As the blood trickled down her knuckles all she could think about was how much her sister hated the sight of blood. On her first night in the arena Lesia watched someone be bludgeoned to death. She threw up for an hour before crying herself to sleep.

Now when Isa makes the effort to go to her workshop, her hands won't create. Her mind won't dream, and her body won't make. Yesterday Isa's supervisor informed her that if she didn't produce something soon, she'd be suspended from the workshop, which could lead to the termination of her apprenticeship. Isa wants her apprenticeship to be terminated, but Isa thinks that would kill her. Her whole being is paralysed. It doesn't matter if she wants to create, it doesn't matter if she never does because Isa physically cannot make anything.

Still, she tries to make an effort or at least she thinks she does. Today she showed up to the workshop, sat at her station and listened to the people around her be alive. Her hands remained on her lap as her eyes flicked over her station, the remnants of ideas plastered everywhere. Her inescapable failure shoved in front of her eyes as the people around her debate how long she'll be allowed to come and sit there doing nothing. Isa's eyes always land on the engraving on her station, the one Lesia made when Isa snuck her into the workshop. On the edge of the desk reads 'Lesia was here' and she was. Lesia was here and now she's not. There are reminders of Lesia everywhere, Isa hates her for it, and she hates herself.

The other reason Isa comes to the workshop is because of the route she takes back home. She leaves around midnight, when the neon and the bulbs are attracting eclipses of moths, because that's as close as you'll get to darkness in District 3. The people of her District fall asleep early, as is the routine of inventor, no nonsense, no failures. Luckily for Isa that means she's the only soul alive at this time...well not the only one. Upon crossing the square, Isa is met with the large electronic gate harbouring the Victor's Village. The haven those who win the Hunger Games retreat to. The gate itself is made of aluminium; Isa could melt it with a blowtorch. But the gates not really keeping her out, it's keeping him in.

Arlo Fixin, the second person Isa lost to the Games. Except, she didn't technically lose him because he won. Arlo won and Isa remembers crying with the rest of her District, the weeping of a weak nation, who never won. Who never got anyone back. She did though, she got her best friend and it cost her Lesia, but it would be okay because Arlo was here now. Two souls traipsing through the neon sky.

But Arlo didn't come back for Isa, she noticed it on his victory tour when he stared through the crowd, refusing to find her eyes. He always expressed that she was proof eyes were the window to the soul. Laughing at the wild, electric blue that reflected her rapid and kinetic mind. Lesia's eyes were blue too, but hers were a soothing, livid blue that comfort like a blanket. Isa's were startling and hard to look at but not for their nature, because of who they were akin to.

Now Isa stands before the only piece of nature in District 3. A great tree that stands before the Victor's Village, leaves of burgundy on display like a bloodied guardian. When they were younger Arlo and Isa would climb to the top and gaze at the Village, it was barren besides two or three Victor's, but they never left their homes. Arlo told her the tree was called Liquidambar styraciflua, or Sweet Gum. He said it meant it 'was flowing with resin', probably planted in good favour for those who return. Isa just liked to stand under the star-shaped leaves and look up.

Every night since Arlo came back, she'd climb to the top and stare at his new home, second down the left. The master bedrooms lights were off meaning his parents were asleep, but the room facing the tree remained bright. Some nights she'd see shadows and knew he felt her presence. Other times the lights would go out as soon as she reached the top, but she still saw them, she still knew he was in there.

In the beginning she wanted an answer. But now she's starting to let the rage disintegrate, the ashes of curiosity forming (she's a scientist at her core).

The main reason Isa goes to the workshop, takes this route home, and climbs the tree full of red stars is to remember. Remember that Arlo Fixin escaped the arena to sit in his victory. Arlo Fixin lives as a corpse while her sister rots away in the Capitol.

Life goes on for the rest of District 3, those who hide from her eyes and bet shiny new components on her failure. For Isa Maver, it has been 100 long years of solitude and misery, that will start anew over and over.

short introduction to Isa and what life's been like for her recently 🤠