Chapter 53: Fallen From the Stars
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Moira Jackson, District 12


A shriek escapes my lips at the first sight of her.

She's like an apparition, her golden hair and lifeless blue eyes glowering over me. Her frame is frail - weak and petite like her pale face, the bones of her body latent with no hint of past struggle. Thin lips bitten down upon, she attempts a shy smile.

A voice goes off in my head, Mom... How can you just stand there? Do something, Moira...

Warmth lights my way to her as she waves to me many yards away. "Moira," she whispers in an effort to force through my thoughts. "Come here, baby girl." Her voice is soft, soothing... Melodic...

Love is poised in her presence, a kind of feeling that I've never had a chance to experience from her. All those years ago, all the wonders I've had about her, all wrap around me once more. I have never laid eyes on my mother - never. However, something tells me that this is her. I need no verification from Dad or Matt; the truth is in her face, the expression she gives me as I can only stand there quietly.

I am unable to remove my eyes from her own, finding myself sweeping inch-by-inch closer to her. Closer to the woman I wish I could have known, to the one I've always swept my faith in, despite so little knowledge of her.

And much to demise, she turns and vanishes.

My heart shatters. I'm strong, positive, headstrong... The moment I had watched Svetlana go down...the moment Topaz had defended me against Foxy...the very second Nix had given up the alliance... No of it could compare to the snatched and ripped emotions I was then feeling. Every thought, every hope, I had of learning more about my mother was thrown out into the night sky. Crying is something I don't do often, and I refuse to give into it.

I'll never let go of her now.

Crashing through the mazes of the grasping sorrow in the amusement park, I find myself screaming out for my mother. Just the slightest bit of acknowledgement from her, the smallest clue about what I'm to do, can assist me in so many ways...

My strength and pride falls only second later, pain shooting through my being as it comes to my senses that I've collided into something - no, someone...

"Ah, shit..." an unintelligible voice moans, hushed. It's a boy, clearly, and it couldn't be too lucid to identify who he is.

Terrified of the possibilities, I force myself up, excruciating numbness flooding in my arm. Has he somehow managed to cut me...? Is he -

"You can cry for mommy later, girl," he says, and I'm able to make out the sound of struggling, as if to regain his stance, and the unsheathening of a blade.

There are only four boys left... Nix, no matter how our alliance could have been annihilated, would never make such an attempt to piss me off. And Jet is simply twelve, far too kindhearted as well. Of course, I don't really know Ruke, but would he have enough guts to insult anybody? He had killed Cade, and for that matter Kindal Holmes, but he has this terrible stutter... Wouldn't it...?

Typical.

I pull at the inside of my jacket, my hand gripping the handle of one of my many throwing knives, a sponsor gift I was relieved to obtain. I'm going to slit this boy's throat... I don't care who it turns out to be; the nerve of even bringing up my mother takes more than simple confidence.

"I suggest," my voice is meant to be chilling, however, I've never threatened someone before, and it comes out rather plain and dull. "that you shut it."

This proves to be a mistake. The quick flash of gleaming light beating down on the blades, the sound of metal clacking, the feel of my throwing knife being knocked out of my hand... I know I have been targeted.

It's Zane. Oh, God, it's him...

At the sound of various noises being thrown at me, I can only interpret that he's attempting to lash out at me by his senses, something he so clearly lacks as he is never victorious in harming me.

When I reach for another dagger, I swing twice. Once, I am rewarded by the simple sound of a counter. The next time, a painful groan from Zane as I feel the blade cutting into his skin.

"What the hell...?" a new voice, one I can only barely recall, blooms into our conversation. At that moment, a flame erupts from a small piece of wood, illuminating the scene just slightly in a hazy cloud.

To validate that my guess of the tribute not being spurious, my eyes follow to the face only few inches away from my own. The lanky boy from District 2, only typically Zane Scott, stands there, a horrid gash under his right eye.

Have I actually hurt him? This is some kind of turn of events, but, in a sense, a victory for me. The petrified look on his face is enough to confuse anyone, and, his sword in hand, he is almost begging into the light that had showcased us clashing blindingly around.

Ruke Halseen from District 7 stands there, a mixture of a morose and startled expression given to the two of us.

And then Zane smirks, laughter relieving him, "This explains so much as to why someone would be shouting out for her dead mother... Weakness must be your skill, sweetheart. What a shame it is, right?"

Jeering about my mom, labeling me 'sweetheart', attempting to slaughter me... I never thought I could hate someone to such an extent... Anger boils inside me; the jackass couldn't have known about Mom. Files are taken for granted once we've reached the Capitol, and I know that he cared none about my past. Could he have been notified of so many past events in the life of certain tributes? Would that not be considered cheating...?

I'm just about to smart back at him when Ruke gives me a look, as if to say that I should keep quiet. I decide against it, but Ruke interrupts anyway, "Don't be such a jackass, Zane..." is all he can manage, even in a whisper, and he doesn't even bother looking Zane in the eye as he says it. Is he seriously afraid of him...?

Apparently not. By the time Ruke has unsheathed a knife, he experiencingly chucks it at my pursuer with what strength he had.

For only a split second do I see Zane frightened for once, but it lasts only a small time, as he falls back, almost tripping. A quick glance at his upper arm, and Zane seems not to be entertained.

"You're such a prick..." Zane whispers, never removing his glare. He then takes a deep, slow breath before ripping the knife away from his arm. He curses as he watches the blood seep gradually from the wound.

In the faint distance, the apparition reappears, this time attempting to gather three of us. "Come," is all she says before Ruke disagrees.

"There's no way I am trailing behind a creepy woman," he groans. At the moment he acknowledges me chasing after my mother, he contradicts this, "Or...perhaps I am...?"

Because of colliding into Zane, my ankle is constantly killing me, however, I try to condone the pain. I must stay focused...

From the corner of my eye, a catch a glimpse of Zane, lying on the ground as if he were resting, glaring. He has no intentions of following. Ruke, not too far from behind me, is mildly smirking for some unknown reason... "Go on, Moira." he says, "Pruebe. Trate de todo lo que puede."

I'll never understand him, but I'm going to freak if he decides to turn against me now...