𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 ❦ The Hunger Games Sequel

nineteen

☆ CHAPTER FORTY THREE ! ☆
0.43 tell me

|| SCAR TISSUE ||
❝soft spoken with a
b

roken jaw, step
outside but not
to brawl. ❞

LIKE THE VASE that remained in pieces on the tiles, there were larger fragments that could be recognised in the debris of my awakening. There were smaller parts - which I could fit together with time - that were jumbled between the shards, and then there was the minatures who remained. Those which would never be glued back together again. Those which were forever lost. There was an unscratchable itch in my mind from where knowledge tried to seep through the cracks of my consciousness from the sheer amount I had to put togethe. Unlike the vase it felt like there was barely any recognisable shards to help mold the rest of the structure.

My first instinct was to gag. The guide of my true self (if I was even allowed to name that version of myself differently) was convulsing at my actions. The Capitol was a word that made me seethe despite how adamantly I'd defended it just hours before, and the clothes on my back no longer felt like a blessing, but instead a branding to a side which I didn't choose for myself.

Then the more trivial parts of my life came back - like my favourite colour, and how I held cutlery in my hand - and finally, I could see the parts of myself which had turned into dust.

"How do you feel?"

"Like a Sponser." I replied dryly to TR730.

I'd recalled the unfairness now, and how terribly I'd treated the man behind the mask.

"I don't remember what you look like, so you're safe." My conversation was a mumbled affair, but one which TR seemed enamoured by.

"What?" TR asked, bewildered as he almost stumbled into the wall with the weight of me. Before the conversation continued he gently sat me on the bed (which I now can say was the most expensive I'd ever slept on) and ensured I had no deep cuts from the remaining porcelain. I could follow his inspection by watching his hands, which never actually touched me.

"You can keep your hands clean." I finally spoke as I inspected the cleanliness of his white gloves. "Your identity is safe, I mean. You can go back to Snow and continue whatever it is that old man made you do. . . before you got involved with me."

I couldn't tell if he acknowledged my indifference to his job role, or if he understood that my willingness to ignore whatever he did next came from a gratitude I had not yet found a way to show.
That must of been the reason President Snow gave the Peacekeeper's masks in the first place, I theorised. It made it hard to feel content with my state compared to his; dried swollen eyes, dirtied clothes, insatiable knots in my hair. His helmet so pristine I could catch my own dishevelled nature on it while he continued his check.

"Is that what you think of me?"

His voice was distorted of course, but also undoubtedly human. It was soft, and weak, and flawed in the way that most people were in the remains of the Hunger Games. Most of all it was the closest thing I'd come to sincerity in the memories I could cobble together.

"You're one of his guards. No matter what you've done, it cannot erase that." I was stern, but hoarse in my reply

He sighed before sitting down beside me with enough distance to ensure we were completely separated. It looked odd; he was a soldier who had watched so much violence who sat beside a girl who didn't know what she'd seen.

"Who do you remember?"

"Enoug-"

"Don't do that." He was agitated in his interruption. "Don't dismiss me now. Tell me what you remember, or I can't help you."

It felt like I hadn't recalled anything from my life as I considered unravelling whatever was left in my mind to the soldier. It was what I would've done a day before, which now left my stomach in twists, and yet it was entirely too compelling. I yurned for somebody to help complete the puzzle more than I yurned for my morality to return; there couldn't be one without the existence of the other.

"I was born in District Five. I had two siblings- one of each- and lived outside from the main town. I entered the Hunger Games, and-" The words got caught in my throat. "I'm sorry, but I'm sure you know the rest."

There was a long moment of silence between us. I was expecting him to take over, or maybe to leave completely after my short confession, but I hadn't considered that he would just continue to sit with his head facing forward.

"I don't know if you're ready to know everything Lorna." TR concluded.

I scoffed. It was a humourless noise and came from the same part of my throat that was exhausted from my shouting.

"It's my life. I knew it all in order a couple of weeks ago; the only difference now is that it's a little... out of focus."

"See, that's exactly it. Before, you were close to committing suicide for around three years because of what you knew. You've had a rough couple of days. I need you to be absolutely sure before I tell you anything you may find disturbing."

"I am ready." I insisted. I shuffled forward so that I could look at TR's mask in its full form. I wanted to know, I needed to know what he was hiding from me; perhaps I'd discover why he'd done what he did in the process.

"Ok. First, I want you to know that I've been watching you for a while. I saw you get on the train to District 4 and back.. and I was there when your sister got beaten at the reaping. I didn't hurt her though. . it's increadibly important that you know that. Otherwise, it's going to make this next bit a lot harder."

TR stood up from the bed and glanced towards the closed door of my prison. It was impossible to guess what he was going to do until he reached back to unlatch his helmet. The soldier swiftly took off his mask.

I couldn't see a lot at first. Just the slightly tanned skin and the brown eyes that could be seen through the circle cut out in his suit that provided a second layer under the mask. His eyes were so warm; they had stripes of deep brown that shined as they tried to get used to the room light without the filters in the way, and then his eyes landed back on me. Next, he removed the last layer between me and his identity.

"No." I managed to choak through a whisper.

Suddenly, it felt like every single large shard I had was once again split apart. The only thing that was left was the dust.

••••••••••
1231 words.

Haha did you think I
was going to give his
identity away that
quickly, tune in next
time for the big reveal ;)

This chapter is dedicated
to Galaxy_skyes_ and
Sheena (I'm sorry I
don't know your
wattpad account)
for the support.
It's so awesome
to hear how you
guys read this story.