Finally Final Entries - Annie Cresta

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Strength is a difficult word to define. It comes in such a multitude of forms that no generalisations can be applied. It can cover brute force to subtle emotional resilience depending on your definition. But there is not a single person who could doubt that Ellery Tarrich was strong. She fought on despite all the scars her past had inflicted on her. She continued to fight until the last breath was snatched from her.

Luxure is undeniably strong. The strongest person I have ever met and as she restrains me in her arms I am reminded of it. Her fingertips will pattern my skin in bruises. But Luxure is more than physical strength. I don’t think people know how strong she really is; I don’t think she would let them. 

There is one thing that is clear when it comes to strength. 

I have none. 

I am weak and entirely undeserving to be alive amongst the growing list of fallen heroes. Ellery should still be here and not me. Anyone can see that; especially now.

Grief has swarmed into my mind and ripped away the last shards of sanity remaining. I entangle my hands in Ellery’s hair and scream until my throat is ablaze with a hoarse pain. I shiver and tremble as the sight of her face splattered with scarlet droplets is added to the catalogue of terrors that haunt me in my dreams. Reality crumbles until my entire consciousness revolves around the simple fact that an empty misery is eating away at me and it hurts. I fall silent and allow myself to collapse into the despair which chokes me with every breath. 

But Luxure stays strong. She waits until her reasoning words are deciphered by my delirious mind. She coaxes my eyes to open and my hands to drop from my ears. I notice Ellery has already been taken away and Luxure has done all she can to remove any removing trace of blood. But it hasn’t work. I can feel the presence of blood still crawling over my skin.

Too weak to move we rest for a moment. Luxure staring alertly into the distance while I rest my head on her dependable shoulder. A movement in the distance causes Lux to tense in trepidation but the face that appears is not a foe.  

“Luxure, Annie!” the desperate call of Claudine reaches us as she appears through the veil of trees. There’s something unsettling about the expression on her face. There is panic behind the eyes of the usually calm career and it triggers inexplicable dread within me. I remove my gaze to the floor and curl my nails into the palm of my hand. The pain snaps me into focus but I still can’t bring myself to look Claudine in the eye.

“You’re okay. Thank god. I heard her scream and the cannon fire…” she pauses when she realises the oddity. 

“Ellery,” Lux confirms in a quite whisper. I feel the pity in Claudine’s gaze sear into my skin. 

“We’ve got to get her moving.” 

“Why?” Lux asks with a frown.

“The arena is getting smaller. The boundaries are closing in. If we don’t move we’ll die.” At Claudine’s words Lux leaps into action. Two pair of hands grip onto my wrists and I am hauled to my feet. I can feel the Games unravelling to a close. Today is the day it ends. The promise of finality hangs in the air around us. We’re hurtling towards a finite conclusion and I feel myself being left behind. Unable to find the strength Claudine and Lux have to carry me along like a rag-doll. 

 They manage a few steps before Claudine stumbles slightly leaving Luxure to catch me. The sudden loss of support jerks me awake. There is something wrong. There is a reason why I could not look her in the eye before.

“Claudine?” Lux asks cautiously.

“I just needed to see that she was alright before…”

“Before what?” Lux snaps. Her outburst flings out into the silent air with anger. But it’s not anger, its fear. Lux can see it too. There’s something not right here. And then I recognise it. It is not panic in Claudine’s eyes, it is pain and the reluctant resignation to an unavoidable fate. Carefully she unzips her jacket to reveal a hasty bandage wrapped around her waist with the ominous stains of blood oozing underneath. 

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