Daydreamer ;; Theme Nine: Insanity
Perhaps it was the silence that drove her crazy. She spent her entire life waiting, waiting for something, anything to happen to show her that she wasn't alone in the world. The response she got was silence. Cold, echoing silence that hurt her ears as well as her heart. She had a weak mind, the silence did nothing for her mental health, and so began this fight against insanity.
She was a quiet girl. She had curly, chin-length black hair and lightly tanned skin, with large, innocent hazel eyes. She didn't say much and didn't do much. In school, she sat by herself, wordlessly doodling on the backside of her paper. She was accepted but not generally acknowledged. A daydreamer, she was a daydreamer, her head full of fluffy white clouds.
Then, when she turned sixteen, she became a tribute in the Hunger Games. None of the Capitol citizens wasted their money betting on her, they had seen the victors; they did not have the petite build and young look of this girl. However, some of the older, wiser District occupants saw something in her. There was something in her eyes, beyond the glazed stare, that was the look of a winner. A ferocity that, if well used, could earn her a trophy and a crown.
The arena was quiet, oh so quiet. She could almost here her heart thumping in her chest as she waited, nestled in a rock pile not far from the Cornucopia. There was only two left, she and the clever boy from District Three. Although he did not have the typical Career's strength or skill, his brains balanced his mediocrity with weapons and such. She closed her eyes tightly, willing the cannon to sound so that she could go home. She hadn't killed anyone yet, and she wanted to stay that way. She didn't want to return a murderer. However, there was no cannon shot. The boy was far too clever to fall into any trap the Gamemakers had set up for him.
He is smart, but not stealthy. She hears him coming when he is but a few yards away. She doesn't know what to do. It's killed, or be killed. You know what she chose.
She doesn't have any weapons, but she can make do with what she has. He knows she's there, she's made no secret of her hiding place. She closes her eyes one more time and throws a stone. It hits him on the side of his head. He turns, ready to duck, but it's no good. She's bombarding him with stones, each about the size of her fist, and he is helpless. It's all over within a couple of minutes. She creeps out of her shelter and lays eyes on her final enemy's body, bruised and broken. That's when she cracks. A look of horror enters her eyes as she stares down at him. The cannon finally fires, but it's too late now. The victor is not victorious. The victor is insane.
When she returns home, she no longer goes to school. She has learned too much already; she doesn't need to know anymore. In fact, she disappears from her district altogether. No smoke rises from her chimney. Her windows remain dark, the curtains drawn tightly. When she does stumble beyond her doors, there is a wild, feral look in her eyes; the true look of a madman. Her hands are balled into fists, hung tensely at her sides. Her once-pretty hair has turned matted and dirty, her overall appearance ragged. Everyone avoids her, taking care to not cross paths with her. She doesn't seem to notice. She doesn't seem to notice anything.
Because when you're mad, the only sound you hear is silence.
A/N ;; Yes, it's not my best but I found the more unusual the theme, the easier it is to write. The words didn't really seem to flow for this one. Oh, and the next theme is Silence. Why am I telling you this? Well, this is kind of a combination of the two, so I was wondering if I should keep this one as 'Insanity' and write another one for 'Silence' or switch this one to 'Silence' and write another one for 'Insanity'? Any help would be appreciated.
