There are song lyrics in here. I don't own those either.
Try to figure out what they are and what band they are from;D
It is early morning when she comes in.
Dark and quiet.
She pulls the shades open and turns on the blaring light.
It's a rude awakening, nonetheless.
I shoot out straight up and begin to let loose a string of wrath, when she stands there at the edge of my bed.
"You are a hunter, are you not?" Kathrena whispers in a forced formal tone.
She doesn't want to be here. I can tell. After my confrontation yesterday, her look seems bored and flat.
She is dressed differently today, blood red hair pulled up into a curling pony tail, a black pin skirt and pink blouse this time—not navy and yellow.
I like yellow. Anything bright for that matter now, it seems.
"Well?" She reinstates again after I don't answer.
"Um, yes. I am."
Her shoulders shrug and she rests her hands on the footboard.
"Well, come on then." And she turns to leave.
"Where are we going?" I toss aside the covers and grab my shirt, tugging it over my head.
"The basement. To the actual gym."
"What's there?"
She doesn't even consider answering until we reach the elevator. Even from there, she just stands sullenly in the corner.
I rub my eyes. What time is it?
"What are we doing?"
"It is more of what you are doing. You are going to," the doors ding and slide open, "play around with the bow and arrow." She points.
I side-glance and Kathrena looks straight ahead, defiant. A small smile plays across her face and she tilts her head up. She turns to look at me, but the smile vanishes.
She coughs, then nods. "There."
"Why am I being sent to do this?"
"Would you believe protocol?"
"What protocol?" I feel a tinge of angst. I want to touch the bow again, though. Pick it up and string the arrow. Pluck the string and watch the arrow soar. It's my only longing. My only comfort.
She drops the question and hides her light laugh. "Just go."
I glare at her strange ways, but dismiss it. I walk to the bow and sheath of arrows left neatly on the center of the floor.
"This is where the tributes were judged for their training score." Kathrena echoes, slowly stepping through the way in a stand. Her words are cold and empty. "The Game Makers sat up here."
I pick up the gleaming bow. It's mine. From the Rebellion. I was disarmed immediately upon capture by the peacekeepers a couple of days ago, but it is back. Is it really over? Did the Rebellion still rage on only days ago?
Its silver and black—the bow. The arrows, despite the various kinds I had during the war, are just plain straggly ones with a soft feather attached to the end. It reminds me of home.
Swiftly, I throw the sheath over my bruised back and lift the bow. I slide an arrow into place and with in seconds, the head is lodged in a hanging shred of cloth.
This place, this gym, is not in too bad of a condition. There are things here and there that are leftovers from something. I don't know what.
I go on for a while, shooting the arrows over and over. When the sheath is empty, I gather the sticks and start the process over again. It's my only therapy that actually works. Not the methodical medicines that doctors prescribe. Not the meaningless words from people that drown me in irrational nothingness. It's just this simple tool that I have grown up with. The only thing missing is Katniss.
Kathrena stares emotionless from a chair in the stand. She watches my every move, monitoring every action, but she doesn't say anything. Could she still be possibly hurt from last night?
It takes all I can, but around the third collection of arrows, I walk up to the stand. Her expression doesn't change and she stays oblivious, but obvious.
"Are you alright?"
"What do you mean?"
I sigh.
"What is the matter with you? I thought you were supposed to be nice, remember? What happened to the caring Kathrena who went out of her way to help me? I didn't deserve that."
"Obviously, I was an inconvenience." She states.
"I just came out of a rebellion." I huff in disbelief.
She rolls her eyes and leans forward in a whisper. "Listen, you are put up for assignment. They want you out of here. It's mainly your choice where, but your going no matter what."
This surprises me. The fact that I am leaving this place. For good?
"Paylor said so. Remember when Plutarch said other positions would be selected but volunteers would be considered? They want you to put yourself forward. They want you to take up the job."
I understand that, but she wasn't at the meeting. How does she know?
"How did you…" I trail off, looking at the floor.
"Know about that?" She steps closer to me.
Kathrena is elevated higher than me, so she comes down to her knees. We become at eye level and pain fills her eyes.
"Because no matter how hard I try to escape, I am still enslaved in this place."
We hold each other's gaze for a long moment.
We are broken.
All of us.
Every last one.
What must we do to restore our innocence?
And oh, the promise we adore.
Give us live again, because we just want to be whole.
She is stuck here. Aren't we all?
It's just a big game.
Still.
"You stood in on the meeting?"
"More than that." She raises an eyebrow and stands up.
I follow her with my eyes.
Something sharp floods me. It's my own rage. The same I have felt for years, but something is different.
This time Kathrena fires it.
She walks flawlessly down the steps of the stand to the floor. She passes me and finds a stray piece of rope on the floor.
Effortlessly, she concentrates on her hands and lifts up the rope. It is weaved into an intricate braid that she holds up to the light.
How can someone who has been trapped like this know something about knots and rope?
She finds my confusion amusing.
"Even a slave knows a few tricks. I am not completely useless."
She tosses it at my feet and turns to the elevator.
When the door dings open, even from across the room I can see that smile.
Kathrena steps in she calls one last thing.
"Breakfast is in ten minutes, then the volunteer meeting."
And I am left to myself.
ooooh what about Kathrena?
Review. Please:) come one it isn't THAT hard...