The Author Games: Literature

Female Entries

District 3 Female: Rosella Van Carter

Reveries were never made to last forever.

It was with a gasp of shock that Rosella was snapped out of hers, unaware of the image of her greatest desires fading away until she felt her fingers penetrate through the glass like they would the surface of undisturbed waters. Panic seized her by the throat as she withdrew her hand, her breath hitched at this strange new enchantment that was undoubtedly set to throw her off guard again.

Was it already time to move on?

As much as she wanted to stay in this chamber, safe from the rest of the tributes, she knew that it would not be possible. At some point, she had to keep moving forward. Taking a deep breath, she raised herself up on tiptoes and, ignoring the book that laid by the foot of the mirror, somersaulted straight through the glass, coming up on her feet...in what looked like a dark and dingy library.

"What the hell," Rosella muttered to herself, lifting a hand to brush away a loose strand of hair that had fallen from her ponytail into her eyes. At the sight of her hand she froze, eyes widening in sheer terror. Her pale skin had suddenly become ashen, as if the blood had all but drained from her flesh the moment she passed through the mirror. She glanced about, her mouth hung open in disbelief. It seemed that everything in the room, from the sky outside the crescent-shaped window to the books that lined the towering shelves, was void not only of colour, but also light and joy, washing the world in hopelessness and woe.

Not for the first time in the Games, she frowned deeply in confusion. What was going on?
 
"Ah. I have been expecting you, Ms. Van Carter."

Rosella jumped at the sound of a deep masculine voice piercing the silence, her annoyance already at breaking point. It came as second nature for her to withdraw her sword, but just as her fingertips brushed against the worn leather grip of her weapon by her belt she caught sight of an elderly man rising from a plush armchair by the window, turning to her with a somber expression, and she dropped her hand to her side.
  
"How...how do you know my name, sir?" she asked, her voice laced with caution.

"Hmm? Oh. I know everything about everyone," he responded lightly, approaching the girl on soft footsteps. "I remember those who had sought my advice, and I remember those who had suffered from what they have received."

Rosella shook her head in misunderstanding. "I don't understand what you mean."

"I am the guardian of emotions and secrets," he murmured. "Joy, sadness, anger, fear...you would find it all in here, in the Giver's Annex. A fine place to keep a bounty full of memories, don't you think?"
 
"So you must be--"

"Yes, Ms. Van Carter. I'm the Giver."

Rosella's jaw dropped. How could she not have recognized the Giver from the book of the same name she had once read long ago?

"And you must be a tribute of the Hunger Games," he continued, his voice laced with gentleness. "Such great trials one must face against others whose trust is, shall we kindly say, questionable. I know how it feels to be constantly fighting for your life, for not only your district's reputation but also your own. Yet as much as you wish for the energy to serve you well, it would undoubtedly betray you at some point in time."

With that, he led her towards a bed by the back corner of the study, and Rosella followed him, apprehension tingling through her limbs with every step.

"You must rest, Ms. Van Carter. A soldier has to take a break at some point in the war," the Giver told her.

Despite the protests that hung by her lips, she was much too tired to complain. Perhaps the Giver was right; she needed to take a break. With exhaustion infused in her body, she took off her backpack and collapsed onto the bed without another thought.

But she didn't expect the Giver to roll her onto her stomach and set his hands on her back.

It was only a light touch, one with very little pressure that could hardly equate to a slap in the face. But to Rosella it felt like a harsh collision as her stomach lurched, her muscles tensed, and her vision immediately turned black.

---