**I have no excuse. If any of you are still reading, thank you and i'm sorry! Please find it in your hearts to review me. Peace out.**
My mind is muddled, my senses thick. The sun rises slowly and soon it begins to flood the room in soft golden light. I snort slightly and try to roll over out of its glare but I can't, there is already someone there. My eyes fly open and I jump back in shock but then I see one luminous green eye, squinting in the light. Kesella. I let a long breath whistle through my teeth before I pull myself closer, facing him. I breathe him in. He smells of familiarity, of safety, of citrus and of wood smoke. I allow my eyes to close as his warmth penetrates my body.
"Get up! Up, up...oh!"
Its Auris, I would know that voice anywhere. Begrudgingly I open one eye to see that her standing over us, expression stormy. Evidently her feelings towards Kesella have not changed over the last year. She picks her way carefully to the bed and lays a hand on his strong bronzed shoulder, digging her perfectly painted blue fingernails into his skin until he too wakes.
"Forma is looking for you." she hisses, and then to me, "And Dolor is here."
I sit up to see that she is right, the doorway frames Dolor and my silly prep team. They raise their hands awkwardly before Dolor swats them down, giving each of them a stern look. They shrink under his gaze and scamper off to do something or another. He turns his eyes on me and I feel suddenly, inexplicably embarrassed. I get up quickly and watch as Auris leads Kesella away. Then Dolor and I are alone.
"Dolor." I murmur, keeping my head down.
"Kaylar." he says evenly, stepping over the threshold and closing the door softly behind him with one long fingered hand. "Care to tell me what is going on?"
I swallow loudly. What is going on? I have no idea. I turn away from him dodging the question to buy myself some time and pace over to the window, letting the warm morning air engulf my head and shoulders. The relief lasts only a few seconds before I see his reflection in the pane, looming behind me, searching for answers.
"I..." I begin.
Instead he asks another question: "Do you really think this wise? We both know what he is capable of Kaylar."
His voice is low and soothing, his intentions just but still his words make me angry. Some great creature seethes in the space where my heart should be. I round on him fiercely, pressing an accusative finger to his sternum so that he shuffles backwards in his pointy toed boots.
"None of this is wise, can't you see that? Don't you understand that had he killed me last night, I would have been grateful? If I am to die today, I'd rather it be at his hands than theirs." I say, a little too loudly.
Dolor just nods, his expression as irritatingly placid and unaffected as ever. I could punch him, but I don't. I want to scream, but I won't. Something about his presence causes the anger to ebb out of me, like his mature levelheadedness rubs off on me. Standing there, for the first time, I realise that his neck is on the line too, as much as my own or Kesella's. Each time he acts he throws his hand on a blade. For that I am more grateful than I could ever express. I raise my arms wordlessly and he pulls me in to a strong embrace, chin resting on my shoulder. As I feel the sweet pressure there I find myself marveling at how such a tiny stature could house such a swollen heart.
"I'm sorry, it's just...I'm afraid." I say my breath short and my words muffled by his thick midnight blue hair.
"I'm afraid too." he admits calmly, "But we needn't be. I think death could be an excellence adventure, don't you?"
"Death has never frightened me Dolor," I chuckle softly, "but death at the hands of these people does."
He takes my hand in his and presses it to his ribcage, slightly off to the left hand side. My face contorts slightly in bewilderment as he mimics the movement with his own body, his touch warming my chest.
"Do you feel that?" he asks quietly.
I shake my head at first but I do feel it, his heart beat steady and regular, pumping blood around his petite body, supplying his mind with the thoughts he voices. I close my eyes and nod.
"We're not dead yet." he grins. "And if I am to die today, I'd rather spend my last hours living."
I pull my fingers in slowly, creating a small fist resting on the skin a little below his clavicle. Quickly I nod and catch his clear eyes, pushing away from him a little so that our faces are level.
"You're right." I smile. "We can't have much time, make me beautiful."
"That shouldn't be too hard."
He gets to work, losing his conscious mind entirely as his deft fingers find their home in their tasks. He begins with the treatments usually completed by the prep team, who have yet to reappear. Once I am plucked beyond an inch of my life he steps back to admire his work. He smiles finally as he comes back to himself with a blink of his electric blue eyes and slips a hand into the many folds of his fine cloak. From within he draws a length of sea green ribbon, crisp and new and cut in to four perfect points at the ends.
"A new games, a new ribbon." he murmurs as he ties it neatly around my high ponytail. "There."
I don't thank him; I doubt that I could have voiced my gratitude even if I had tried. For a moment I allow myself to bathe in the gracious glow of this wonderful man, hoping that his presence might make me brilliant too. Then in unison we turn for the door and hand in hand take the elevator to the rooftop for the very last time.
A gleaming blood red hovercraft has settled itself on the Tarmac a little to the left of the dome. It resembles a large insect, squatting there and fixing me hungrily with its many beady eyes. I wonder dully what insects eat and whether or not I resemble it but I don't have the heart to ask. I feel weary and I feel tired, like this is all just a game that I have played too many times before. Instead I murmur flatly: "What an ironic choice of colour."
Dolor chuckles warmly, his impassive expression breaking into a sweet smile which almost splits his face in half. And suddenly I feel better because if Dolor is laughing then nothing can possibly be wrong. With that thought in mind I follow him to the craft and grasp the ladder loosely in my small hands.
Don't hovercrafts usually make a noise when they take off? It's curious, but as we climb higher into the open blue sky I can't hear a thing. It's as though someone has sucked all the sound out of the world and I have only just noticed. I rest my head on Dolor's calf and sigh loudly, inhaling the warm air as it slaps my face.
Inside the craft there is a woman and there is a needle. One speaks to me in hushed tones and the other pinches my skin. I don't register which is which. The ground vibrates gently beneath my feet as I am led to an empty room to wait. The silence reminds me of a mausoleum. On that particularly unpleasant thought, I close my eyes, feeling as though I am standing on a razor's edge, looking up and down.
I can't judge how much time has passed when the door slides open. My back aches dully which gives me a clue but I wish it were more accurate. A short woman with mousy brown hair pulled back to her skull takes the seat opposite me. She has the forlorn, gaunt look of someone who has lost a great deal of weight in a short amount of time. I have trouble recognizing her at first but her voice soon remedies that.
"He wants me replaced, says my ideas are tired and boring. Tired and boring!"
"Ariana?" I murmur in disbelief.
She nods distractedly, eyes burning with an irate kind of fire. Her cheeks which used to be so plump are now hollow and ashen. I search her face for some sign of her former, empowered self but come up empty handed. She seems somewhat addled, hands twitching of their own accord, eyes flashing. I notice that her legs shake beneath her, it makes me very uncomfortable.
"Ariana. What are you talking about, who wants you replaced?" I say slowly.
"Snow." her eyes widen as they hold mine with unforgiving sincerity. "He's going to kill you, he's going to kill us both."
"How reassuring." I spit, suddenly irritated by her total loss of control. "Is there a reason you have come here Miss Specter?"
She narrows her eyes slowly, tilting her head as though she is assessing me. It's funny since she is the one in need of assessing. I squint back at her, watching as he lips curl back to show her yellowing teeth. If she doesn't start foaming at the mouth, I will be surprised.
"I came to show him, yes. I am going to warn you Kaylar." her head twitches sideways against her shoulder.
"Warn me?" I repeat, sitting straighter as raw curiosity begins to flood my veins, ensnaring my pounding heart so that I am helpless to resist.
"You mustn't trust anybody Kaylar. He wants to kill you and so will they, so will they..." she tails off and glares at the wall above my left shoulder before shaking her head sharply and refocusing her eyes. "Everyone else had two injections today, remember that."
Then she gets awkwardly to her feet and shuffles to the door, sliding it open and leaving it that way because her hands shake too badly to grip the handle.
The room feels incredibly large in her absence. There are no windows so I will not know when we are approaching the arena- usually the windows black out around the craft so that the tributes can't see the arena's top secret location. The floor beneath my feet still buzzes with energy however as the air presses against the metal. We must still be airborne.
I take to pacing while I wait, pacing and thinking. Ariana has warned me in the past, about Kesella, about the maze. Should I trust her this time? Every sinew of my body screams no, Kesella isn't out to kill me, we got over that. But still there is a traitorous voice in the back of my mind which reminds me that Ariana was right before and that she is right about Snow wanting nothing more than my head on a pike. I shake my head to clear away some of my thoughts. There are far too many crammed inside, my skull will surely explode.
The battle of head against heart plays out so fiercely within me that I fail to notice the sudden quiet of the engines. What is the significance of my receiving only one injection where the others received two? I resolve to ask Kesella about it once we are clear of the Cornucopia. The faint bump as we touchdown takes me by surprise, jarring my legs and throwing me off to one side. Peacekeepers materialize at the door and before I know it Dolor is by my side and the ladder is unfurling before us.
The catacombs seem darker and quieter than I remembered. The close dank environment immediately sets me on edge. The sharp, sweet smell of earth and decay fills my nostrils, making me cringe and start breathing through my mouth instead. Dolor's hand is warm and familiar in my own; I try to pretend it is the only thing that exists.
There isn't much for us to do but wait. We sit side by side in the close quiet. I try to avoid looking at the metal circle which will lift me into the arena but I can't; it draws my eyes like a dead body. I squeeze Dolor's hand a little more tightly and consider telling him about what Ariana said on the hovercraft. But I can't, we are too well surveilled here. So we sit in silence and we wait.
Finally the announcement plays to tell us I only have five minutes left before launch. Hands still firmly linked, Dolor and I cross the room to the plate. He folds me into his arms quickly and I breathe in his scent and say a silent goodbye. Then we separate and I step on to the metal and look up as the clear tube begins its descent to trap me. I feel suffocated and compressed but I try my best to smile at Dolor as he raises a hand in farewell. It seems like a foreign gesture, too simple and ordinary when this could be the last time either of us says goodbye to anyone. I raise my hand back and hold his eyes as the floor slowly falls away and I am cocooned in darkness once again. Let the 64th annual Hunger Games begin.