Tribute X: Rewrite

by blackedawne

For 99 years, the Hunger Games has survived and relived many experiences; but many aspects of the Games have changed too, much to the surprise of young Azalea Fellin. I decided to restart this story differently, I wasn't pleased with the last one. XD

2. Silhouettes

DAY 1 SUBSEQUENT to 99th HUNGER GAMES, 1206 hours: CAPITOL

Slam.
Creak.
Elongated silence.
"What's the matter?"
Cold, accusing glare.
"You never told me."
Confound countenance.
Knowing ponders.
"I didn't tell you what?"
Suspicious gaze.
Grim air.
"You didn't inform me that you were a hard-core assassin."
Struck heart-string.
Chair pushed back harshly.
Undeniable truth.
"I'm sure you enjoyed every moment of it, didn't you? No pity, no guilt, no hesitance; just a cold, dark instinct waiting to be reawakened."
Short tranquility.
"Let me construe this..."
"What needs to be refined? I understand exactly what went on. I saw it with my own eyes."
Hurt.
Discomfort.
Hate.
Retorting.
"You think I found pleasure in all that!"
"Well you certainly weren't crying!"
"There was no exception for mourning!"
"You killed him!"
Aghast expression.
Unexpected pain.
Inward pain.
"I..."
Water welling up.
Whispers.
"I..."
"You traitor!"
Thud.
Crash.
"Why won't you let me explain?"
Tears.
Anger.
Thud.
Crash.
"Because I can't tell the difference between your lies and truth!"
Heavy breathing.
Cracking.
Rising up again.
"You used to trust me."
"Before I knew you clearly."
Dark tone.
Rising up again.
Dried tears.
Stoic tint to eyes.
Unwilling to show the true pain beneath.
Be strong. Be triumphant.
"I can't say there were many things I believed in that Arena."
Intent listening.
"I could have gone insane. I could have lost my life."
Wishes and desires.
But still receiving.
"Your faith in me was good once. It couldn't keep me away from the pain. But it sufficed."
Anger.
Believe in.
Lies.
"I still have faith in you. I have faith that you will leave here with that same black heart you went into the Arena with."
Something broke.
But still lived.
In agony.
Turn.
Creak.
"Thank you, otherwise. For everything."
Slam.
Sole silence.
Exhale.
Realization.
Utter confusion.
"What have you gone into?"
Closed eyes.
Thinking meditatively.
"What began your wretched journey?"
Stopped breathing.
Howling of wild wind.
"What have you gotten yourself into?"
Foreboding shadows.

Author's Note: I apologize if the format of this chapter is puzzling. No, I was not at a loss for words today, this format was intentional. After telling you this, and seeing the other future chapters, you may be able to fathom why.