Day Eight-Night
P (D11)
"It's getting dark." A soft voice came from behind. P sighed as Crystal gently tugged on his thin shirt, pulling him back towards the makeshift cave they had come upon.
"Dark. You know, back in District Eleven, darkness wasn't such a terrible thing. It was the end of the work day, the beautiful silence of the peace keepers and their punishments going to bed, and there was warmth in the bed if you were lucky, and a full stomach if you had all the luck in the world. Nighttime was the end of the day where there was no escape from the pain that is life."
Crystal stared bleakly out into the fading light. "I always found it to be the other way around."
P laughed. "You're a child from the fourth district. Things are always the other way around." P clenched his fist. "But you're right here. I learned in an old book that the ancestors of our ancestors believed evil spirits dwelled in the darkness and appeared at night. Our forebears thought they were superstitious fools." P threw a rock into the wilderness, listening as it came crashing down far in the distance. "Who knew myths and legends were right?"
Juniper Abbot (D11)
Juniper hated the nights in the arena.
There was nothing in the darkness. Nothing but them.
The land around her could burn and turn to ash, the air could freeze in her lungs as the wind ripped through her skin, the sky could rain or snow as it wished. So long as it had nothing to do with them.
Ash said they were not real.
Cecelia said they were not real.
Talon would have said they were not real, if Talon had still been alive.
They were pokers and prodders, the voices. That's what they were: voices. Nothing but voices that knew everything, saw everything. They were defilers of the mind, twisting and churning every pleasant memory and every misery laden thought.
"Just like her mother, is she?"
"No, not that one! Her mother was far fairer than she."
"Aye, her mother was better. Prettier, smarter, wanted more than her daughter was."
"Oh, the poor mother of Juniper Abbot. Able to leave only a daughter and son behind and the daughter as useless as useless could be."
"Poor girl, she'll never be as admired and loved as her dear old mother."
"Talon was the poorer one, I'd say. He's dead."
The voices crackled with laughter and Juniper pulled herself into a tighter ball of security. She hated the voices, she hated them.
"I suspect the poor girl hates us!"
"Dearie no, say it isn't so! Little Juniper Abbot, the girl who took the place of another, a much meaner and cruel soul than she, hates us three?" The sound of their cackle filled the air.Ash and Cecelia slept soundly beside her, neither stirring in their sleep.
"Why, Little Juniper Abbot couldn't possible hate us three! It isn't in her nature."
"No, not the girl who took the place of another."
"No, not the girl who took the soul of her mother."
The voices paused and Juniper stiffened, her blood running cold, seeming to stop. No one knew, no one knew…
"Yes, that little secret of little Juniper Abbot. They say it was a illness that killed the mother of the babe. But was it?"
"Panem may never know."
"Panem wouldn't care. What care do they have of a mother that died because of a daughter too scared to call for help."
"The mother, bleeding from her lips, the daughter standing and staring, giving nothing to the woman that bore her."
"All the woman asked was that the girl call for her father. To call for another to save the dear mother."
"But the girl just stood there, didn't she?"
"Didn't she?"
"Didn't she?"
Juniper wanted to scream through her cracked lips. It wasn't true, it wasn't true.
But it was and she knew it. Juniper shivered and curled her hands around her ears, blockading the sound of the bewitching voices. Memories floated through her mind, memories she could not erase, no matter how much time past. Her mother, her beautiful mother, had died. And it was because of her.
"Is it any wonder the girl thinks so low of herself?"
"Think of her poor brother….just a babe when the mother fell, and a babe still, with nothing but a bitter old man and a weak willed girl to raise him. The poor boy is doomed."
"SHUT UP!" Juniper screamed, banging her fists against the stone rocks that lay around her. "IT'S NOT TRUE!" She was on her feet, screaming into the darkness. "I take care of him! I watch over him! I make sure he knows he's loved and that, that…"
"He has no mother to guide him? That his dear elder sister could have saved the life of his mother, but she was too weak." The voice crackled.
Juniper glared in the darkness. "I'm not weak, I'm not weak!"
"I'm not weak, she says, I'm not weak!"
"Shut up!"
"Shut up!"
"Shut up!"
"Shut up!"
Juniper didn't know how it started; at what point she started running far, far away from those terrible voices. She didn't know why Cecelia and Ash hadn't woken up.
"Shut up!"
"Shut up!"
She didn't know why the land around her was black and gray, burnt to a crisp, breaking, falling apart the further she ran. Rocks jutted out every which way, but the land was dead, black ash floating in the still air. The air smelt rotten, plagued, sickness.
Sickness. Her mother had been sick. Felix was still young, wailing in the old maple wood crib, the tea pot on the stove whistling. Her mother had loved tea. They hadn't been able to afford much, but her father made sure his beautiful bride had her tea. Juniper had been young. How young? She could no longer remember. But she remembered the smell. Oh, yes, that smell. Rotten and disgusting,death and fire. She hated it.
"Mommy? Mommy?" Juniper had walked around that whole house carrying that damn old stuff rabbit in her arms, that dirty brown rabbit that had been her mothers. Her father had burned it later, like he had burned everything else. To get rid of the sickness.
"Mommy?"
Juniper had found her there, laying in a pool of blood and vomit, her skin pale with blue-green veins running up the side of her neck and cheeks, her eyes wide and red. Her blue dress with the white flowers was stained. Her hair, the same hair that Juniper had, that same hair she used to love oh so much, was matted with sweat and bile.
"Juniper, please….go get your father. Or anyone y-you c-come across. Please sweetie, do this for mommy-" She vomited, blood and bile spewing out of her mouth. Juniper hadn't been able to move. Her brother was wailing a few feet away, her mother begging and pleading and retching and she hadn't been able to move. She stood still and wide eyed and blank minded as her mother died in the filth of blood and bile. Felix had stopped crying as soon as their mother had closed her eyes. He hadn't seen anything-he was just a baby, but Juniper had seen. And Juniper had done nothing.
It was best that she had volunteered for Marjorie. Oh, Marjorie was a horrible person, but Juniper was no one to judge. She had let her mother die from some strange and demented sickness. She hadn't even made a noise. Marjorie would have at least screamed at the sight, alerting others to the nightmarish scene in front of her. She would have at least done that much.
It wouldn't be the same any longer. She wished she had grabbed a weapon when she disappeared from camp. She had been good with a bow and arrow during training. She needed one now.
Juniper ran until her legs gave out. She fell to her knees on the dead earth. A figure appeared in front of her, wearing a smirk and dangerous, cold blue eyes. It was that girl from before that had killed Talon and ran the other two girls off. The District 12 tribute. Clement Portly.
Clement cocked her head at the younger girl. "Well," she clicked her teeth, "what do we have here? A District Eleven weakling?" She walked in a circle around Juniper, taking in every inch of her, a predator at prey. "District Eleven, a district that can provide competitors, but usually fails. Just like," she nudged Juniper with her left foot, "you."
Juniper breathed in and out angrily, her heart still pumping from before. She wasn't afraid of Clement. Clement could kill her in an instance-like she had done to Talon, but Juniper was not afraid of her. It was time to face things. "Are you going to kill me now?"
Clement tsked and leaned against a tree that broke through the rotted black earth. "Feeling a bit suicidal are we? I thought that was more of the District One girl's style than yours. I take it you don't have a family to return to?" Juniper glared at Clement. "Oooh, have secrets do we? That's okay," she took out a bright sliver knife from out of nowhere, "we all have secrets. Some we would die for." She charged at Juniper. Juniper closed her eyes, knowing what was to come. "Or not." Juniper opened her eyes to find Clement's knife in her hand. She looked up at the insane girl with wide eyes.
"What are you doing?"
Clement smirked and clapped her hands. "Oh, I love you dear little girls with broken homes and unhappy memories. You're almost as fun as killing little kiddies from good, happy little families." Clement snarled on the last word, almost as if it pained her to say it. She snapped her head at Juniper, her cold blue eyes blazing with untold fury. "I could slash your little throat in an instance, but I won't. You, little dear, don't have a family to go back to, do you? You're not as much fun and you don't make me as…angry." She started to shake, her fists clenching and her nails biting into her flesh until red droplets of blood oozed out. She peered down at her hands and laughed, her anger vanishing. "Besides, there are others on their way here tonight, it'll be interesting to see who lives. After all, you're done being you, aren't you?" With that she left, the tree breaking back down into the earth, her footprints disappearing in the rotting wind.
Juniper stared down at the knife, fisting it as she heard the sound of crunching footprints.
Xander Hemston (D9)
Xander heard the roar before he registered it. A body came crashing towards him, knocking him to his feet.
"Xander!" Rose called out, her voice full of terror.
Xander fought against the girl on top of him. Her loose curly caramel hair was wild and stuck out everywhere. Her silvery-green eyes stayed locked on his as she struggled to overcome him. She held a knife her hand aimed as his throat.
"Why are you doing this?" He screamed at her.
"I did nothing!" She cried out.
"Rose, get out of here, she fucking insane!" Xander yelled at the young girl.
Rose Jones (D9)
Rose panicked. Xander was about to be killed right in front of her. They had retreating from the District Six tributes when the girl had come upon them. The girl cried out, trying to make stabbing motions at Xander.
"ROSE! GO!" Xander cried.
Rose couldn't-wouldn't leave Xander. She had no weapons, but there were plenty of rocks around. She picked up the biggest one she could lift and hurled it at the girl, falling miserably short of the target. She was a painter, not a damn thrower! She tried again, her heart rate increasing in her panic. This time she hit the girl straight on, knocking her off Xander momentarily. The girl recovered quickly and glared at Rose, her eyes crazy. Dawn was rapidly approaching and the land was starting to come back to life, grass sprouting up after the girl's footprints as she charged towards Rose, her knife at the ready. Rose closed her eyes at the expected impact, feeling something wet and thick spattering over. Rose opened her eyes and almost screamed.
The girl was seemingly floating midair, her wild hair framing her pale face and her eyes devoid of human emotion, instead holding something far more removed from humanity and understanding of the living. A black redness leaked from the jutting hole in her stomach. For a minute she and Rose stayed still, the air and time around them motionless and lifeless, and then the girl feel to the ground as the knife was removed from her. Her body was limp and haunting on the fresh, dewy grass as the sun peered over the horizon. Beautiful white and pink flowers sprouted the land around the girl, but Rose couldn't see it. All she could see was Xander. Blood was splattered across his lean frame and his hair was matted with sweat on his forehead, but even that was unimportant. His eyes, his eyes were all she could see. They were broken of the boy he once was.
BOOM!
Juniper Abbot (D11)
"It wasn't your fault. I never blamed you. You were just a little girl. And you worked so hard for your brother and your father. I never hated you."
Maybe, just maybe, that's what her mother would say.
Deceased
Cameron Smith, District Eight, age 17
Chandelier Rouge, District Three, age 15
Talon Williams, District Five, age 15
Felix Drake, District One, age 16
Juniper Abbot, District Eleven, age 15
Thank you Robinpaw08 for your tribute. I feel bad that now her brother won't get to see her again.
For some reason, I feel like this came out dark. But I put it at night so it was bound to happen.