Task 6 - Messages Entwined (BM)

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A/N: This is an unedited,unrevised version. I'm putting it up early for any feedback anyone may have; it would really help out a lot! (By the way I'm sure you can guess who the guy in the picture is meant to be. *hint hint wink wink*)
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Heavy. That's how Beckett could describe his feelings in one, simple word. Heavy. Weighted down by so much junk, so many secrets he was forced to keep, so many lies he'd been forced to retain in that drifting mind of his. So many things he wanted to say but never had the courage to let out. Never had the resolve to loosen the noose around his brain. His mind was choking on everything it contained. It was like drowning: the water had kept flowing, non-stop, and soon the room had been filled, save for a small air pocket at the top. That air pocket was all Beckett had left. And soon, that too would be gone, and he'd have lost it, lost everything he'd worked so hard for.

I haven't lost it yet, though. I haven't lost it yet. I can keep my head above the water for as long as I can. Beckett lay down, back pressed against the frozen surface of the ground. He hadn't left the mines for hours. All night, screams had haunted his ears. Some of them were obviously human. Others had to belong to friends of the dead creature beside him, the owner of the repulsive head in his hands. A few times he couldn't decipher what the screams belonged to. Strangled, terror-ridden screams, sounds that would send chills down someone's back, that would make the hair on someone's neck stand on end.

Not Beckett's. He listened in absentmindedly, thinking up what was happening on his own so he'd have some sort of explanation to the death of all those innocents. Through it all, he hugged the decapitated head close to his body, warming it with whatever heat he still retained. He hadn't removed the straitjacket just yet, so the creamy white had a large, black stain right where his heart should be. Like he had been stabbed, not the frigid corpse beside him.

But it should have been me. I should have been the one to die, not this pile of skin and bones. I was supposed to die. Why didn't I die? Beckett lifted the head in front of his face, staring it straight in its milky white eyes. It's mouth was frozen in a scream. The tips of its teeth were doused in a deep red; Beckett's blood. He ignored the minuscule dots left on the back of his neck. In terms of injury, they were nothing but scratches.

He tilted his head, curiously studying the head. "Why did I...live?"

The creature responded by letting a thick, black liquid spill past its teeth. It made contact with Beckett's cheekbone, slid down to the back of his head, found residence in his unruly hair. He frowned. I shouldn't have expected a proper answer, anyway. It's dead. Dead things don't have the chance to speak their mind. He squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out the incoming rays of light. I'm as good as dead. I don't speak my mind to begin with.

Just as he felt sleep finally give him attention, a deafening boom shook his small cave, little pebbles falling from the ceiling and pelting him in the face. He jolted to a sitting position, decapitated head in one hand, dagger in the other. His breathing ceased and he strained to hear anything else.

Nothing but his pounding heart sounded through the cave. Probably just something to get me moving...I'd rather sleep than do what the Capitol wants. I'm not a dog. I won't obey their every word any longer. They want me dead anyway. He shifted so that he could lay down again when another blast shook his humble abode. Now he was on his feet, headed directly for the cave opening.

When he got there he moved his hand to grasp the side of the entrance, but forgot he had a head gripped tightly in his clutches. He shrugged and tossed it aside. The fragile skull cracked against the wall before rolling to a splintered stop in the corner. He returned his attention to the sky. It was still dark enough to broadcast the recent deaths. Two cannons, two deaths. A total of five, counting the ones from last night. Wonder who--

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