viii

atlas zaidio, 17.

district six male.

Atlas's hands are clammy as he and Zen walk to school, the boy wiping them on his trousers multiple times as they approach the schoolyard. He knows that he's being irrational but as they're walking, Atlas can swear that he feels everyone's eyes on him; boring into him, accusing and distrustful. As if they know what he and his best friend are hiding.

They're halfway across the playground when Atlas stops walking. Zen, having made it a few steps ahead before she realises, turns around with her eyebrows raised and her head tilted. She observes him for a moment before stepping forward and grabbing his wrist, Atlas attempting to pull away before the girl lets go, pinching the bridge of her nose with an exasperated sigh.

"Are you going to do this every year?" She asks him, her voice barely audible as she crosses the space between them. "Atlas… they don't know. They won't know."

"But—"

"If they knew then I wouldn't be here right now." Zen hooks a finger under his chin, gently lifting his head up. "And even if they did know, you wouldn't get in trou—"

He pulls away from her, shaking his head. "I'm fine," he says, maybe a bit too abruptly. "Let's just go. We have a test. We shouldn't be late."

The first three school periods go fast. The test isn't too hard, and second period chemistry is just boring, the ten minute break between second and third period flies by as usual, and panemian lit isn't anything special. It's only when fourth period is disrupted, the entire grade being summoned to the assembly hall, that Atlas's hands get clammy again and his stomach cramps and his head spins. He can tell by the glances that Zen is throwing his way that she knows, but she doesn't do anything other than lace their fingers together and squeeze his hand in a comforting gesture. And as much as Atlas wants to push her away, he knows that he can't and as much as he doesn't want to admit it, her presence beside him is calming even if it shouldn't be right at this moment.

"Students," their principal shouts loudly into the podium, Atlas flinching at the loud noise. The older man pauses, thankfully lowering his voice now that he has everyone's attention. "For the third year in a row, we gather for a memorial assembly dedicated to our own Jensen Trevor. Three years ago today he was the victim of a brutal attack that robbed him of his life…"

Atlas looks to Zen, tuning the principal out. His best friend just stares forward, looking uninterested, and he drops his gaze to his lap. He's never understood her flippant attitude towards what happened to Jensen. Especially since she was the one who did it.

Five words had gotten Atlas tangled up in the mess: "I wish he was dead!" he'd cried to her after a particularly ruthless day of bullying at the hands of Jensen. But he'd never meant…

Zen wasn't supposed to hurt him.

She'd come to him a few days later, her face lit up as if her father had won the lottery. But even though her cheeks were flushed with warmth and excitement, the words she'd spoken had chilled Atlas to the bone and filled him with horror. And then, when they'd discovered the body, he'd waited for the peacekeepers to show up at his door and march him away.

Honestly? He's still waiting.

The past two assemblies — the first one held the day after the discovery of the body before he's even had a chance to process anything —he's sat here in the bleachers, expecting it to end with the confession that they know who it was. Expecting he and Zen to be escorted out in handcuffs. Inseparable even in the twisted legacy they leave behind.

Atlas is so wrapped up within his guilt and his thoughts that he doesn't even focus on the rest of the assembly. He misses the quick snippets of Jensen's friends speaking about what a wonderful friend he was, and a tearful appeal from Jensen's mom for any information. He just stares down at his shoelaces and tries not to throw up; even if he's not listening, he's still aware of just how fucked up the entire thing is.

"Atlas." Zen squeezes his shoulder, waving a hand in his face to get his attention. He startles, looking up at her. "The assembly is over. It's lunch time."

"Oh." He looks around and sure enough, everyone is filtering through the door to the hall. Atlas gets to his feet, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

The two of them walk wordlessly to the cafeteria, settling down at a table where Zen hands him a set of sandwiches and an apple she'd bought for his lunch. He accepts it with a small smile and a thanks.

"They won't get you, Atlas," Zen says from across the table, picking up on his restlessness still. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Atlas takes a bite of the sandwich to avoid answering.

He might not have physically harmed Jensen, but he'd uttered the words that spurred Zen to do it.

And he'd allowed it to drive a wedge between them. He doesn't hate Zen — he can't hate her — but it's just… different now.

All because Atlas had said those words. A sentence that he regrets uttering more than anything.

zenevia "zen" astren, 18.

district six female.

Atlas stays restless throughout the school day. Zen watches him carefully, trying to reassure him that everything is fine, though he's resistant to her words. The assemblies and the anniversaries always throw him off, she knows that, but he makes it impossible for her to help him. Long gone are the days when just seeing her would cheer him up, and now she's pretty much clueless as to how to comfort him. Because this is of her own doing.

And does she regret her actions? Not really. Jensen Trevor deserved what he got; any of his victims would tell you that. But does she regret the consequences? Yes, because Atlas got caught in the crossfire. But she never meant…

Zen wasn't supposed to hurt him.

The school day draws to a close surprisingly quickly, Zen waiting outside of Atlas's classroom after the only lesson that they don't have together. He emerges eventually, keeping his head down until they're off the school grounds when he, finally, seems to shake off some of the tension.

"We've got to work on our panemian lit report tonight," he says. "So then we can start on our science stuff tomorrow and—"

"We've worked on something every night this week, Attie," Zen says. "Why don't we just… I dunno… chill tonight? My dad isn't going to be home until late, so we've got the house to ourselves 'til then."

Atlas shrugs. "I guess. But what can we do? It isn't like we can just pull out your old dollhouse and be entertained for hours like we could when we were kids."

"I mean… the dollhouse is still around somewhere." Zen jokes, elbowing Atlas gently in the ribs. "But, uh, we can figure something out when we're back. I'm up for anything."

Zen misses the days when they could just waste hours and hours with each other, never worried about what they were going to do or how they'd pass the time. They would just find something to do; there was never any discussion and… if they couldn't find anything to do then they would just talk. Talk for hours on end about both everything and nothing.

And maybe it was her who had ruined that, but she was desperate to claw it back. She had to. Because the Zen she was then was so much better than the Zen she was then. Happier… more carefree…

"Sounds good to me," Atlas says, and Zen smiles. Slow and steady wins the race, right?

They arrive back to an empty house, just as Zen had expected. For a minute, Atlas hovers on the front path as if he wants to go back to his house, and if he had just left her there alone, fleeing next door, Zen wouldn't really blame him. As much as she doesn't want him to leave, she can't force him to stay. It's a miracle, really. She'd misjudged his reaction to Jensen by a mile, and she was lucky he hadn't run away screaming. Lucky that he hadn't turned her in.

Even if it took him a day or two to slink back to her side after she told him what she had done, he was still there and that made Zen feel better. Even if things aren't the same, and the two of them are doing a clumsy dance in the dark and stepping on each other's toes all the time, Zen truly can't imagine a life without Atlas and she doesn't want to. She's glad he came back.

"You hungry?" She asks Atlas, the two of them kicking off their shoes by the door before moving into the kitchen. When he nods, Zen tosses him a banana from the fruit bowl, and moves to the cupboard to grab a glass which she fills with water and chugs. "You can stay here for dinner, tonight as well, if you want."

"Doubt there's anything in the cupboards at home anyway." He jokes, bumping his foot to hers as they perch on the kitchen stools. Zen is glad that he seems to be a lot better than he was this morning. The assemblies are never easy, though she tries to remain unbothered by them — after all, the boys that speak about missing Jensen are just as bad as he was, and while she does feel bad about Jensen 's mother, it's not as if Zen can do anything now that the deed is done — but at least there won't be any more once they leave school this year.

And, hopefully, when the reminders are gone, the accident can stop looming over them, too.

She's tired of Jensen still ruining things from beyond the grave. It was supposed to fix things; put her back in control.

Yet all it has done is the complete opposite. There's a downward spiral that she and Atlas are caught up in, and neither of them know when they're going to hit rock bottom.

Zen only hopes they get some kind of a warning.

charlotte "lottie" alvarez, 18.

district twelve female.

In hindsight, adventuring out to the abandoned house on the outskirts of her district all alone and in the middle of the night isn't the greatest idea that Lottie has ever had. Still, as she stumbles around in the dark forest, catching her feet on tree roots and god knows what else, she doesn't regret it.

She'd made the decision to go earlier on today after overhearing some boys talking about it, and the spirits that supposedly haunt it, at school. As soon as her parents and siblings were asleep, she climbed out of the window and set off, hoping that she was going in the right direction at least.

It takes her a little longer to reach the crumbling structure than it probably should, the girl getting turned around in the dark more than one, but when she sees the structure Lottie is filled with relief and excitement. She pushes open the rotting wooden door, taking a few tentative steps inside. There's nothing of note; broken glass, splintered floorboards, and a few pieces of broken furniture, but Lottie isn't here for keepsakes.

The boys had mentioned an apparition. A ghostly lady with long black hair and an old white dress. The typical stuff. And that's what Lottie was seeking out; she'd watched as the other girl's faces twisted at the boys' tales. But she wasn't afraid — ghosts can't hurt you as far as she knows and, well, if they can? Going out by ghost is about as cool as it gets, there's no denying that.

She settles down in the corner of the house, wrapping herself in a blanket that she'd stuffed into her backpack before she sits down, stands up, sits down, stands up and, finally, sits down for the final time. The boys hadn't said anything about a specific ritual to summon the apparition, so waiting is all that Lottie can do. She brought a math worksheet with her to complete, but it's so dark she can't see it which makes sense. Lottie isn't completely sure why she thought it would be anything other than pitch black inside of the house.

Huddled in the corner, she's close to dozing off when she hears voices coming from somewhere in the trees. Her first response is fear; the peacekeepers aren't going to take ghost hunting as a valid reason to being out this late at night, but when she realises by the pitch of the voices that they don't belong to peacekeepers, but boys that are somewhere around her age, Lottie comes up with a plan.

She abandons her belongings, hauling herself out of one of the broken windows on the opposite side to the one the boys are approaching from, careful not to cut herself on the broken glass still in the frame. Dropping into the dirt just as the boys push open the door, it's a close call and she presses herself down as she listens to the boys' raised voices.

"Someone was here!" One of them exclaims, clearly having seen Lottie's things.

"Do you think it was the ghost?"

"Are you an idiot?" A third voice scoffs. "What kind of ghost has a backpack filled with school supplies?"

"Well…" the second boy says. "What if the ghost got the person who's stuff it is?"

"It's probably just a homeless person—"

"With school stuff?"

Taking the moment that the boys are distracted, Lottie jumps up from her position. It takes a few seconds for them to register that she's there, but the piercing screams and the scramble for them to get out of the house has her doubled over with laughter long after they're gone and out of sight.

Perhaps it was a little bit mean, but at least it will be a fun story for them to tell once they've calmed down from the shock. With the night dragging on and nothing happening, nobody could blame Lottie for taking the opportunity to have some fun. However, even though she has given those boys a fun story to tell, she doesn't have one herself when she finally decides to gather her stuff and head home before her family realise she's missing.

As much as she would like to see a ghost, she'd rather not become one. But if her mother found out Lottie was sneaking out… well, that was within the realm of reality.

As for the apparition that she didn't end up seeing; there are always other nights and other opportunities. Lottie has never backed down from a challenge in her life and if spotting a ghost is her next one target to reach, then sure enough she will.

And if she doesn't? Lottie at least has something to tell her friends. It's not every day that you get to scare a group of boys, after all.

helloooo it's a very tired edie checking in here!

one more intro chapter left?! what the hell! i still can't believe people trust me enough to write 24 of their creations... it's whack! but with that being said, i hope you enjoyed this lot! there is so much more to all these lovely characters, but only so much i can squeeze into their intros. needless to say i am very excited for the pre game chapters so we can get to know this crew even better!

oh, if there are any funky typos in this chapter — or any future chapters in the next coming weeks - then please ignore them. between the last update and this one i managed to break three of my fingers and fracture my wrist so i'm currently typing with one hand which is harder than it looks. so yeah. funky typos r us for the time being.

anyway, i am heading off to bed the moment i post this chapter so i hope everyone is having a great december and everyone is happy and healthy!

till next chapter

-edie :)