Hello! I'm back! MIRACLES DO EXIST!
ONTO THE STORY
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. Sadness will now rain down from the heavens and fall upon me. ( ._.)
FLASHBACK TO THE LAST CHAPTER
My inner turmoil was interrupted with a knock from my door, followed by a low voice that muttered that dinner was ready. I frowned, disappointed that I hadn't gotten to change or clean myself or anything yet. Sighing, I made my way to the door and let myself out, padding silently down to the dining room with bare feet. I had to act like my encounter hadn't fazed me, otherwise everyone would wonder what was going on. And if I was being honest, I didn't really know either. Maybe I was just overreacting, maybe I wasn't. As I got closer to the dining room those thoughts were pushed into the back of my mind, and I focused on the present. Besides, it's not like what I told Portia was significant.
My lips pursed as I hesitated, but I shook it off, continuing on to go and eat.
Idle chit-chat filled the room as I walked into the dining area, Effie chattering aimlessly about all the people lining up to be our sponsors and what she had for brunch today. Cinna watched her as if he were taking in her every word on the outside, while on the inside I could just feel him screaming in frustration. He seemed to be the only one giving her the light of day, as Haymitch was staring into his drink and Emery was staring directly at me, his eyes darkening slightly when my gaze met his own. My legs refused to budge an inch when our eyes locked, a shiver running up and down my spine at the intensity of his stare. All it took to release me from my frozen spell was for his stormy grey eyes to flick away, landing on Effie as if he were actually about to pay attention to what she was saying.
I sat down in my seat opposite of him silently, my gaze focused on my empty plate. What did that look mean? I thought in confusion, not willing enough to sneak a peak at the boy in question.
"There she is! See, I told ya she'd be here soon!" Haymitch suddenly said, startling me and interrupting Effie mid-sentence.
The neon yellow-wigged woman huffed in indignation and glared at the older man, while Cinna took her momentary distraction as a chance to breathe a sigh of relief.
My head was lowered slightly, my gaze focused solely on the empty plate in front of me as I avoided everyone else's eyes. A slight frown graced my features as I went back and thought about Portia's unexpected visit. What had it meant? And why was she so flustered about the sparring sessions? If it were against the rules, why would they allow them to occur? None of it was making any sense to me.
"Well, thank goodness! Tell me, Laurel, where have you been? I've been worried sick about you!" Effie said after she had gotten over her annoyance with Haymitch. Before I could respond to her, however, a knowing glint entered her eye and she smiled with a lecherous air about her.
"Did you take advantage of that 'stress relief' I told you about?" She asked in a hushed tone, raising her eyebrows suggestively.
I immediately sat up straight and scowled fiercely at her, repulsed by her assumptions and the entire prospect of it all.
"No, I did not, Ms. Trinket, nor do I ever plan to," I said in a clipped tone, my eyes narrowed in anger and annoyance. "But, if you must know, I was just out clearing my head, nothing more, nothing less," I continued on, my voice losing only a smidgen of its harshness towards the end.
The stereotypical Capital woman balked at my words, surprise coloring her face as her mouth formed a small 'o'. Cinna raised his eyebrows and looked at me as a small smile tugged at his lips, while it took Haymitch all his self control not to burst out laughing at Effie's dumbstruck look.
"I think it's time for us to eat now, don't you all agree?" Cinna asked, looking around the table for any negations. When none presented themselves, he nodded and signaled for the Avox servants to come in.
"What about Portia? Shouldn't we wait for her?" Effie asked, her scatterbrained mind already over our little dispute.
"She's working on a few things before she comes back, so she won't mind," Cinna said kindly, relaxing Effie and her obsession with manners a tad.
"Well, if you say so," she said, her wig bobbing as she shook her head.
"I do. So, how was you two's first training day?" Cinna asked, turning towards Emery and me.
It seemed like every sound in the room disappeared after his question, leaving only a deafening silence as I looked at anybody but my team. Cinna's smile faltered and Haymitch raised an eyebrow, taking our silence as a bad sign.
"What happened?" Haymitch said gruffly, his grey eyes looking between us suspiciously. Seeing as Emery was making no move to reveal what had happened to him, I manned up and spoke.
"Well, I figured out where I stood in regards to other tributes," I said vaguely, turning to look at the old victor. His brow furrowed in doubt as he studied me, trying to discern what I had meant by that.
"Care ta specify, brat?" He asked, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving mine.
My lips thinned and I avoided his sharp gaze, finding it easier to admit what was happening as I stared at my still barren plate.
"District 1 is aiming to get my blood on her hands," I said quietly, letting my words sink in before continuing. "She threatened me because I defended the District 3 girl after their sparring match," I said, thinking again back to the memories the fight had conjured up. Haymitch groaned, covering his eyes with his fingers.
"I told you not to draw attention to yourself!" He ground out, slowly dragging his hand down his face, "Yer lucky that District 1 is so weak this year..."
I remained silent, my mind too preoccupied with the rapid flood of memories from my dark past. I tried to push it all down and hide it until later, when I could be alone to think of it all I wanted. My face was schooled into a cool mask as I sat up straight, successfully hiding my memories before they could wreck me in front of people. A brief flickering of Klew's face crossed my mind, taking my thoughts down a different road and soon enough, I was speaking.
"I want to ally with District 3, Haymitch," I suddenly announced, surprising even myself with my unexpected words. Haymitch blinked, his mind taking a moment to process my change of topic.
"District 3? Why them, if you don't mind me askin'?" Haymitch asked in curiosity, leaning forward in his seat.
"Well, they seem smarter than they let on to the other tributes," I said, shrugging my shoulders as an Avox girl began setting food on the table. Haymitch looked at me with a lackluster dullness to his eyes.
"Really," he said rather than asked, like that alone wasn't good enough of a reason. I narrowed my gaze and tilted my head up, my usual expression of dissent.
"Really."
He blinked and sat back in his seat, his hand rubbing thoughtfully on his stubbly face as he took in my reply. The rest of the room had stopped any attempts to converse and were instead looking between us warily, like they didn't know how the scenario would play out. My eyes never left Haymitch's, even when I could physically feel Emery's heated gaze burning holes in me once more.
"You know what? Forget it. Just act like I never even mentioned it," I said dismissively, pushing myself away from the table in anger.
"Now, Laurel-" Cinna said softly, his tanned arm reaching for me as if that would make me stay. I waved off his gesture and stood up, disappointment in both myself and my mentor flooding my mind.
"If you would be so kind, could someone please serve me my dinner in my room? Thank you," I said gently to the nearest Avox, unable to meet their eye as I spoke in fear my emotions would show. They nodded quickly and bustled off, no doubt to prepare my plate.
"Goodnight, Cinna, Emery." I acknowledged each individual with a nod of the head before taking my leave.
I sat down on the temporary bed in exhaustion, slouching in on myself before falling back to rest on the copious amounts of blankets. Why did the bed have to be so big? It's not like anyone from District 12 could ever become big enough to fill such a space with as little food as we had. It made me feel small, like I was a little girl again from a childhood best forgotten.
"Why? Why me?" I asked the ceiling in a whisper, acting as if it would be able to answer back.
It's smooth, white tiles were silent as I stared up at them, unwilling to part with their knowledge just yet. I chuckled sardonically at myself. Of course it wouldn't talk back. It was just the ceiling. Why did I even expect it would?
A soft knocking on my door pulled me out of my inner musings and prompted me to stand up. The door opened slowly, revealing the Avox boy from the night before and a cart of various foods in its wake. He kept his eyes level with the ground as he pushed the cart inside, his body tense as if he were prepared to bolt at a moment's notice.
"I take it this is my dinner?" I asked calmly, hoping to ease some of his tension with a gentle tone. He nodded, the movement just a quick jerk of his head as he hastily turned to leave.
"Hey!" I said slightly louder than I had wanted to.
The red-headed boy froze, the time of being a servant in the Capital forcing him to obediently turn back towards me with his head lowered. My feet took me towards his taller form, stopping only when I was directly in front of him.
My eyes searched his face intensely, tracing every angle and edge to compare it to my memories. I was both dreading and hoping he would have a thin scar in his left eyebrow, or that he would have a small, tan mole on the right side of his nose, or another small scar on his chin. Every little blemish was slowly, but surely, checked off one by one in my mental check list, making my heart constrict that much more with every confirmation. He seemed to know what I was looking for, and when I took a step back to steady myself he finally met my gaze. The pale, unmistakable, golden green color to his eyes, however, were what dug the last nail into the coffin.
"I'm so sorry," I mouthed, my eyes pricking with tears as I stared into his.
His face softened and he shook his head, gesturing towards the cart as if to get me away from the subject. Resolve settled into my very being as I set myself on what I was going to ask next, not even giving myself the option to back down.
"Tomorrow night, eight o' clock, the roof," I said as quietly as I could so that the prying ears of the Capital couldn't understand me. Before I could receive any reaction from the mute boy, I walked towards the cart and began filling my plate for dinner.
"Thank you, that is all I need for now," I smiled over my shoulder politely, acting like none of what had transpired between us in the past five minutes happened. The young Avox nodded in response, his eyes looking back at me knowingly before he turned and left my bedroom.
I bit my lip and looked down at my nearly overflowing plate, thinking over everything that had happened up until this point. A bitter laugh escaped my lips as I sat down at my desk chair and set to eating in silence. Here I was, a weak, insignificant little tribute from District 12 whose only things she had going for her was her ability to shoot a bow correctly and throw a knife half-way decent. My body was as scarred as my mind, pain and grief digging grooves too deep to ever be filled in. My family would mourn for me, sure, what family wouldn't? But they would get over it soon enough. Katniss and Prim could help them survive in my stead. It's not like I was irreplaceable.
"Just another Seam Rat," I said to the empty room, wiping my mouth clean with my napkin quickly afterward.
Setting my plate back on the cart gently, I contemplated my entire existence. Would it really matter if I died in the Games? Seam Rat, the blonde bitch had snarled. The vermin of the district. The lowest of the low. Normally, not even the town kids liked Seam rats like myself. Every once and a while, they strike a fancy with one another and get married, like my mother and father did, or Katniss' parents did. It's not entirely frowned upon, but it's not exactly welcomed either. Especially when they don't get married before having a child.
This leads to years of bullying and torment from the other kids in your class as they spew out the words their parents had once whispered to each other when you passed by them. After a while, you become numb to it. You know you can't fight back, otherwise then everything would become ten times worse. Parents can't be told, because they would do something to stop it. This would lead to even more problems that weren't even worth it in the end. In the end, it doesn't even matter.
People you trust betray you. People you hate, hate you even more. People who love you, will cry for a while after you leave, but soon will get over it and move on. The only person you could trust is yourself, or so they say.
But what do you do when you can't trust yourself?
When your mind is so broken you have to hide it every day to prevent your parents from worrying. When you have to stay strong for your siblings. When you have to provide for them. When you have to grow up way too fast. When everything you worked for and finally let settle into your scarred and bloody heart is ripped back out, called out to die by the hands of other children.
What do you do?
"You fight, don't you?" I asked the door quietly, "You fight until you finally win. Where you can live in peace, right? You fight to survive, right?"
Because I have people depending on me. Of course they will mourn me, but why should I let them? Why should I, when I could come home and wrap my arms around them as they cried tears of joy, and not sadness? To feel the twins rub their little faces into my shirt, and their skinny arms gripping my waist in a tight embrace. To hug close my mother, who will be bawling the entire time. To look into my father's eyes as they glittered proudly, his big smile wobbling as he held in his sadness like a man.
Why should I ever consider giving that up?
"This is why you shouldn't be locked away, alone with your thoughts, Laurel," I chastised, a ghost of a smile pulling at my lips. "And talking to yourself isn't helping the matter either."
I stood up from my seat and strode to the door, hesitating for a moment as I came to a stop in front of it.
Where was I going again?
Stormy grey eyes entered my mind's-eye, and I lowered my head.
"Emery..." I said, knowing my irrational anger towards him was unjust.
I shouldn't have yelled at him. With him as an ally, I may prove to be a force to be reckoned with, but I might as well have spat in his eye for the harsh words I said. Looking up at the blank, smooth, metal door, I shook my head. Apologizing would be my only chance to gain his favor again. Besides, didn't Haymitch want us to work together?
With this in mind, I walked out the door and began my journey to my temperamental district partner.
I hesitated once again when I reached his doorway, indecision warring with my resolve as I tried to think of what I would say to him. Hey, Emery, I'm really sorry for being a little jerk to you at the fire-starting station, can you protect me during the Games so I don't die?
Yeah, that'll definitely work! ...Who am I kidding? No it won't.
My hand must've touched the door at some point or another in my moment of thought, as the smooth metal contraption glided open effortlessly, revealing a muscular chest and toned abdomen to my wide eyes.
Freezing in place, my eyes took their sweet time lifting upwards to the white towel being scrubbed vigorously through a shock of pitch black hair. I relaxed a little when I realized he hadn't seen my unprofessional lingering gaze on where the white, fluffy towel around his waist started and his abdomen ended. Seeing as though he still hadn't noticed me yet, I cleared my throat, causing him to stop mid-scrub.
Slowly, he lowered the towel from his disheveled hair and looked up, his grey orbs zeroing in on my blue ones. His shoulders relaxed a bit, but a suspicious look in his eyes revealed how he really felt about my presence.
"Hello," he said warily, letting his arms fall to his sides as he stood up straight.
"Hi," I said quietly, rubbing my arm as I looked at the floor.
"You know, it is considered polite to knock before entering someone's room," he said condescendingly with the raise of an eyebrow. I pursed my lips, my eyes automatically narrowing slightly. I fought back the mental curses I was sure I would have to endure once I was alone again.
"That's what I would have done if the doors here weren't so stupid," I said in annoyance, glaring at the door behind me as if it would become conscious of its actions. "All you have to do is touch them and they fling right open!"
He smiled faintly and shook his head, glancing at nothing in particular as he thought. He casually tossed the towel across the room and walked towards his closet, typing quickly on the screen to get his desired sleeping attire. The simple articles of clothing appeared after a moment and he grabbed them, laying them out on his bed and causing my eyes to widen. Realization on what he was going to do forced me to turn around out of respect of his privacy. The sound of him chuckling and the rustle of fabric tickled my eardrums, causing me to furrow my brow in confusion.
"You don't need to turn around. It's not like you haven't seen any of this before," he said, amusement lacing his words as he chuckled again.
What?
What the hell was that supposed to mean? I asked myself incredulously, my eyes wide as I ran through possible explanations. When he said it's not like I haven't seen it before, did he mean like, I had seen naked guys before? I had helped Mrs. Everdeen once or twice in the apothecary, so yes, I had seen a naked man before, but how would he know that? Did he actually mean that...I had, well...I had seen him naked?
"I think I'm more comfortable facing this direction, thank you very much," I said, crossing my arms over my chest as I tried to wrap my mind around the perplexing statement.
The sound of fabric rustling abruptly stopped and the room fell silent. I could practically feel his stare boring holes into the back of my head. Digging my nails into the skin of my arms, I refused to turn and meet that intense gaze.
I'd like to say it was because I wasn't sure yet if he was fully clothed, but that would be lying. In reality, I was scared of what I would see if I turned around. Something hidden deep within my mind warned me not to look back, that I wouldn't like what I saw. But, I still needed to apologize, didn't I? Otherwise this semi-awkward visit would be pointless and raise more questions than needed. So, I pulled up my big-girl panties and slowly faced the taller boy, my eyes refusing to leave the ground no matter how hard I tried to lift them.
"I came to tell you that I'm sorry for the things I said earlier. I'm not quite sure why I said them myself to be honest. I suppose I just didn't like how you treated District 3," I said, my words becoming rushed towards the end, "I want you to know I didn't mean it. I don't want to go into the Games having my own district partner as an enemy for words that I didn't mean..."
The silence that followed my confession weighed down heavily on the air surrounding us, and even though my mind told me not to, I looked up to see Emery's reaction.
His stormy orbs were scrutinizing my face with an intensity that would cause most grown men to shift anxiously on their feet. I held firm, refusing to look away so I could see how my apology sank in. An unreadable expression crossed his face as the gears turned in his head, until finally he cracked what could be considered as a small smile.
"Alright then. Apology accepted," he nodded, picking up his nightshirt and pulling it on over his head.
"Thank you," I said , my gaze falling back to the floor as I took a step towards the door.
"Goodnight, Laurel," he said as he threw the covers on his bed back.
"Goodnight, Emery," I automatically responded, touching the door quickly to let myself out.
The walk back to my own room was uneventful, as were my preparations for going to bed. The food cart was gone, I noticed tiredly. I didn't let my mind linger on anything too long to prevent another self-induced mental lashing, but it was quite a hard feat to accomplish. By sheer determination and willpower, however, I was able to curl up in the temporary bed and fall into a restless sleep as images of my friend from long ago came to life in my dreams.
~OoOoO~
So it was true.
She didn't remember me.
I lay on my back in my bed, staring up at the smooth white tiles of the ceiling as I contemplated this.
After all those years...
My eyes closed as memories swirled inside my head.
Her long, black hair flying behind her as we raced through the streets, her blue eyes lit up with glee as she sped off ahead of me. Her laugh, soft and carefree as it danced around us. Her smile, showing off her missing front tooth and the happiness that constantly radiated from her as we played the day away.
It really was true what they said.
All it takes is one screw-up and everything comes crashing down.
How ironic that they would be brought together once again, only to be forced to kill each other?
I laughed bitterly to myself. Not like it was any different than back home.
If only things had gone differently. Maybe none of this would have happened.
The tiles of the ceiling stared back at me and remained silent, only re-enforcing the doubt I held for such a fantasy.
I turned on my side and closed my eyes again.
If I was going to do what I hadn't all those years ago, I'd need to sleep, even if my dreams were riddled with nightmares fueled by guilt.
Goodnight, Laurel.
A/N: Hello, everyone! Look at those two, making up and shit. So kawaii^^
And I finally delivered on a shirtless tribute! You can calm down now, TheLittlePervert ;).
So, I know it's been too long since I updated, but I've been surprisingly busy lately. I never planned on being this busy when I started writing either of my stories, but you all know how it is. Things never seem to go as planned...
Shout-outs this chapter go to these lovely people: Mmeggy999, BlueJay15, TheLittlePervert, Angelia White, CrystalHeart27, PsychDemise, and Bellabooella!
And for all my Silent Watchers...I lurve yer jurst as murch as the reviewerrs~
What did you think of this chapter? Feelings on Mr. Grimmins? How about Laurel's not-too-kind thoughts of herself? It made me feel hurt, even though I'm not dealing with her demons personally. Did I accomplish this feat with any of you?
Okay, I think that wraps up this chapter for now.
Bye!