I NEVER WANTED ANY OF THIS, I JUST WANTED TO GO HOME..
'I KNOW, BUT NOW YOU HAVE A CHOICE TO MAKE..'
I DON'T WANT TO CHOOSE..I LOSE BOTH WAYS..
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frag·ile
/ˈfrajəl,ˈfraˌjīl/
adjective
1. easily broken or damaged.
"Before there was a dangero...
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"YOU HAVE TO DO.."
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DAY TWO OF THE GAMES, 6:00 AM.
Keeping her eyes glued to the screen, she doesn't stop, no matter how many tears stream down her face. No matter how much her hands and breath trembled. No matter how much her brain screamed at her too. She just couldn't pull herself away from the TV. It was just horrid. Kill after kill. Cannon after cannon. But, at the same time, it felt like it was dragging out slowly.
It was like the Gamemakers were purposefully trying to drag things out as much as they humanly could. From the close up's on the kids faces, to show the blood either staining their face or draining from it. To the multiple angles of every single kill, known to mankind. It was just..It was worse than last year. No, it was worse than anything she had ever seen in her entire life.
"It's just so...horrid. It's worse than last year." Someone whispers, their voice wavering.
"That poor girl. She's suffering. Why aren't they changing the screen? Why haven't they interfered by now?"
"Shut up all of you! Someone change the channel!" Haymitch slurs, "I don't wanna watch this crap!"
"You're just saying that because your tributes are dead!" Gloss argues, "Some of us want to see how our kids do!"
"Shut up you glitter loving whore! Your shithole of kids tortured the boy from ten! Some of us, we don't wanna watch our kids get tortured by your Capitol loving brats!" Haymitch slurs, pointing an accusing finger.
"You miserable drunk bastard! It's no wonder you don't have any friends!" Cashmere scoffs, "You're⎯You're⎯UGh! You're unbearable!"
Shutting her eyes tightly, she could feel her lunch go up her throat, thick and enough to make her feel uncomfortable. Doing her best to block out Mercy's screams, she prayed that the girl's suffering ended quickly. Jacob was the first person to be hunted down by the Career pack. Mercy was then chased by a pack of spider mutts. They were targeted. They had to have been, at least that's what she believed.
Feeling a gentle hand on her shoulder, she jumps, instantly turning around to see who it was. Her hand slithers to where she'd have her knife hidden, but she doesn't feel it there. Standing there, drink in hand and a deep frown on his face, it was Klaus. Narrowing her eyes at him, Haymitch is behind him, sticking his tongue at him. Holding back a laugh at the sight, Haymitch sends her a wink before wandering off.
"Athena, good to see you again." He takes a sip of his drink, "I know that Haymitch and the other's arguing isn't best but, aside from that. How are you?"
"I..They⎯They followed the rules. Why did they die? Why did it seem like someone was targeting them? Is this how it is?" She whispers, her voice wavering.
"I don't know." He shakes his head, "Things have changed I guess."
Raising a brow at the comment, she didn't know what he had meant by that. Was he talking like in the sense that the Arena had changed from last year? Or was he talking about it like something else? Opening her mouth to speak, she could only muster out small stutters of words. He's staring her down and it made her feel so intimidated. Did she say something wrong? Why was he acting like this? She didn't mean to do it on purpose.
