❛ I WONDER WHAT WILL BE YOUR MOTIVE NEXT?
YOUR WILL TO LIVE, OR YOUR WILL TO LOVE? ❜
in which silver quinn must, once again, find
the right balance between life. . . and love.
𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙋𝙇𝙀𝙏𝙀𝘿
― se...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
THE LIGHT THAT RIMMED THE EDGES of the train windows slowly diminished into the bleakness of night. Little colour passed as we sped through the train gate towards District Seven. I sat cross-legged across the same armchair I had unwillingly adopted on my first trip to the Capitol, which was surprisingly comfortable despite it being of a leather texture, and my eyes rested themselves slightly over the top of the television screen, aiming out towards the dark sight of woods. My arms were tucked strangely underneath my chin, accompanying the adjacent pillow with spots of tears. Yes - I had to admit that I had been crying a little, but I could feel my eyes gradually getting dry, and that only triggered it more.
Corey and Bradley, who hadn't talked since this morning, had settled down across from me on the adjacent sofa in a childish sort of way. They both sat their backs away from each other and fashioned a cross expression on their faces. A glance sent its way from one, to me and then to the other as the only communication between the two. It was blatantly obvious that Bradley was still raging from Corey's betrayal earlier at the reaping.
The awkward silence was broken by a cheerfully seeming Atlanta who had placed herself next to me and switched the television on. I tried not to notice her optimism that shone through our collective stubbornness and weak silence, but her display of happiness really didn't suit the mood of us all.
The television screen lit up with the most unpleasant of colours imaginable, which I was certainly not in the mood for. Yet most of them belonged to the smiling Caesar Flickerman who sat central stage with a ginormous screen behind him.
"I was going to tell you all to shut up as you're all so loud," Atlanta said abruptly, adjusting the wig on her head and sitting further back into her armchair.
"Don't tempt fate." Bradley huffed as he poured himself another drink from the dining table behind us whilst shooting her an awful glared that I could probably see burning the back of Atlanta's head if I looked hard enough, but I couldn't be bothered.
"Sometimes I wish I actually got that job for District Seven."
Bradley rolled his eyes, "Don't we all."
"Wait, wasn't that two years ago?" Corey asked, clearly trying to catch up on the conversation and failing miserably.
"Mhmm-"
"Can we please watch this now. I thought this was important to you three?" Atlanta added, her eyes flicking between Bradley's and Caesar Flickerman's onscreen. He huffed and sipped his drink cautiously to try and consume himself again with his thoughts.
My head turned back towards the television and noticed something rather peculiar. It wasn't exactly strange peculiar, but it was unusual none the less. I switched the direction of my eyesight rapidly as I looked between the screen and the others in desperate need of an answer. District 12's Reaping image wasn't shown in the corner of the screen next to District 11 like normal, nor was District 8's.
