For some reason, ever since I returned from the Capitol I get the oddest feeling whenever I walk into the centre of town. It's the sensation that I don't belong here anymore, and when I see the crowds milling about the square, or wandering into shops, I guess it just becomes even more apparent how isolated I have become.
The moment I set foot into a crowded area I can feel the eyes of every single person lingering upon me, and I wonder how the other victors have coped with this for so long. After all, it's not even been a week since I returned and I'm already sick of it. Take that man who I accidentally walked into earlier; the prejudices upon his tongue were clear. He didn't like me just because I was a victor. I guess it would be hypocritical of me to judge people for doing this, after all, before I treated the victors the exact same way. Like they were lepers – something to be feared and avoided. But I'd never really realised how lonely that would have made them feel. Now that I'm on the receiving end of this discrimination, I'm disgusted at my past behaviour.
This is why I cast a furtive glance around before I step into the square, because as hard as it is to squirm under the cold glances of strangers who I've never had anything to do with, I'm suspecting it will be ten times as hard to take this from someone I actually know. Especially after experiencing Betsy and Marla's greeting the other day. Neither of them has them have tried to make contact with me since, and I'm certainly not going to try to force my company upon them. Still, I can't deny that trying to avoid everyone that I used to know, in a past life, is unbearably lonely. But it's certainly easier.
After my inspection of the square assures me that there's no familiar face among the masses I suck in a deep breath of air, and launch myself into the onslaught of scathing glances and derisive comments.
It's late in the day now; the sun a low ball of fire in the sky, casting an eerie orange glow across the white rooftops of the houses of the few, more prestigious members of our district. The light doesn't discriminate, illuminating both the faded whitewash of the Justice Building, and the highly polished wood of the gallows which takes prime position within the square. I shield my eyes as the beams of light hit them and I duck my head as I'm forced to pass beneath the gallows. I shudder as a soft breath whispers through the buildings and shakes the ropes, just slightly. It's always here; left as a reminder that nothing goes unpunished in District 11. Of course, personally I would've thought that the constant stream of Peacekeepers threading through the streets and make their presence known by threatening anyone who even dares to throw a glance in their direction, would have been enough to remind us of that.
My feet walk out the familiar path to Tallulah's house, obviously remembering the countless times I've walked this route before; the detour to her house to collect her before school, despite the fact that it was completely out of my way or running along this path if I had news to tell her. A smile tries to tug my lips upwards as I can almost see the two of us, prancing around like idiots. Of course, that had been when we were much younger; over the past few years there's been little cause for us to dance around like overjoyed fools.
Take a left at the chipped fountain; the one piece of grandeur in the whole of District 11. I glance through the stagnant water to the bottom of the fountain. There's a thin layer of copper coins lying there; this has always amused me. Despite the fact that money is often so short around here and people can rarely scrape together enough food to keep them going, people are still prepared to waste money on a wish. It's a mentality that I still find hard to comprehend. But I dig my hand into my pocket, knowing that I still have a few spare coins left. I find them clinking against one another and I slide them out. On opening my clenched palm I see I have three coppers left. That equals three wishes, right?
I wish...
I wish Ryla would forgive me.
I wish everyone would stop staring at me like I'm some kind of outcast. Even though I suppose I am now.
But, do you know what I really wish? I wish that I could just go back in time, and-
"Ryla?" A shocked voice comes from behind me. Even behind its cold tones, it's one that I will always recognise. This is a voice that I've grown up hearing.
I spin round, and meet the eyes of the one person that I was especially dreading running in to. I reach a hand into my pocket to reassure myself that my notes are still lying there and relief washes over me as my fingertips brush against paper.
"Tallulah?" I don't know what I'm supposed to say to her, because the sight of her in front of me sends so many different emotions rushing through my body. The cold anger in her hazel eyes makes my blood burn and protest about the fact that she's so mad at me. After all, it's hardly my fault and anger sparks within me. But at the same time, the lank, greasy way that her tawny hair hangs around her face, the dark shadows under her eyes and her pale waxy complexions turns my sudden anger to compassion, and I feel the need to comfort her. She's holding herself so differently; no longer the confident, almost arrogant stance I'm used to seeing from her. Instead her shoulders slump forward, and her eyes stay trained on the ground rather than rising to meet my own.
"What are you doing here?" The brief notes of shock that I heard within her voice moments earlier have given way to fury, and I cringe as her eyes glint dangerously. I've seen this look many times on her face before, but never has it been aimed at me.
"You never came to see me," I demand, and I sigh as I can hear the self-pity within my voice. This wasn't how I'd wanted to act in front of her. But seeing her now reminds me just how much I've missed her, and how much I could have used her company these past few days.
"What did you expect?" she asks scathingly, "after what I saw on the screen... Did you actually believe that I might be standing there waiting for you? Did you want me to act like nothing had happened? You know me too well for that Ryla."
My head darts around anxiously, making sure that no one is listening in to our discussion. Or rather, argument.
I can't even meet her in the eyes; hell, I'd never thought that I would feel this awkward and uncomfortable with Tallulah. We've been friends for 12 years, but I guess a lot has changed these past few weeks. I mean, I know that I don't feel like myself anymore, and judging from her drastically changed demeanour, I guess that she feels the exact same way. Another reason to mourn what I did in that arena – it's hurt her too.
"I thought..." I trail off, because what had I been expecting? That she would change her beliefs just for me. No, that's never been Tallulah's style
She curls her lip at me, and a flash of white hot anger surges through me, "You could've tried," I hiss, hating her because she despises me for all the reasons that I now despise myself. "You could at least have explained to me in person, rather than letting me hear from Betsy and Marla that you weren't coming." This rushes out of me in huge gust of air, but she just shrugs. Suppressing any emotions she might be feeling from showing on her face. Somehow this carefully blank expression is even worse than her anger had been. No emotion suggests that she doesn't even care about me anymore. Her next words match this expression perfectly.
"You know what Ryla, I don't think I even care anymore. I'm not having this argument with you. Because you know how it would be the moment you won. So, just deal with it."
"Deal with it?" I say venomously, " I can't deal with it. Especially when the people I care about just turn their backs on me. You know that if this had been the other way round, that I would have done anything to help you. I wouldn't have turned away from you." I'm so mad that she's just given up on me like this. No second chances. She's really willing to just erase 12 years of friendship. 12 years of being so close that we were practically sisters. I helped her out when her mum lost her job, and she supported me when Seth got so sick that even the doctor said he didn't have a chance. But all that's over just because she's determined to hold on to some stupid prejudice. Our friendship should mean more to her than this, and she certainly shouldn't be acting like all those strangers; judging me when they don't even know me.
"You're supposed to understand!" I suddenly burst out, but she just glances at me.
"Well I can't."
She turns away from me with one fluid movement and before I'm really aware of what I'm doing I yank the letters out of my pocket, and fling the envelope in her direction. The packet explodes at her feet, sending sheets of paper fluttering into the air. She comes to an abrupt halt, and spins around, her eyes blazing furiously as she takes in the paper. She opens her mouth; probably just to yell at me some more, but this time it's me who turns away from her. I want to be the one to win this argument, and something tells me that the first person to walk away will be declared the victor. She set the rules, so I'm just playing along.
I screech to a halt as I arrive back at the Victor's Village and see a distinctive shadow patrolling around my doorstep. My stomach clenches as I take in the intimidating figure that is Spark. I can tell by his gait that he is steaming about something. Seeing as he's waiting for me, it can only really be about one thing. I'm assuming that rumours about how I spent my day have reached his ears. It was only a few days ago that I leaned against my kitchen wall while he lectured me about exactly this...
"District 11 is a massive place, we both know that," he's far too close to me as he tells me this and I feel distinctly uncomfortable. Especially seeing as I think he must have eaten something garlicky at lunch and the odour is making my stomach churn.
He's waiting for something. Oh, right, he wants a response, I realise, "I know that," I say impatiently, did he just come round to give me a geography lesson?
His dark eyes hold mine sternly; I don't dare to look away as he utters his next sentence, "You can't help everyone, ok? You might feel guilty that you have more money than other people, but if you tried, then it would be spread too thinly, and you wouldn't be doing anyone any good. It's best to just leave them to their devices." His eyes are practically drilling into me, and I'm fully aware that he's watching to make sure that his message sinks in.
I just nod my head jerkily. There's no way I'm going along with that, I think as he watches me.
He suddenly spots me, and makes a beeline for me. I'm rooted to the spot in terror, despite the fact that he won his Games more than twenty years ago, he's still the same terrifying physical specimen that he was when he was crowned. And I definitely don't like the fact that he's barrelling towards me with that look on his face. It's times like this when I can understand completely why he won.
"What's this I've heard about you prancing round the District all day, giving out loaves of bread?" He demands as he reaches me, his face distorted in anger.
"Don't worry," I tell him dully, thinking back to the fury on Ryla's face and the terror I felt as I crouched out of sight, hiding from Mr Vallier, "I won't do it again."
He takes one look at me face, and amazingly I think his expression softens, just for an instant though and only the tiniest bit. Still, maybe Spark isn't the steel man I've been picturing him to be. It doesn't matter though, because I know he's gearing up for another lecture, and I'm really not in the mood. I shove past him, making sure to barge my shoulder into his, not caring that I'll certainly pay for that later.
That night, my conscience drags me back to the town square.
The noise of my boots clacking against the cobbled streets stands out disconcertingly loudly in the silence of the night.
It's my district, and yet it's not at the same time. There's a shadowy shape looming just in the distance; my eyes blur whenever I try to look directly at it, so I know that I have no choice but to move closer to it. One thing is certain though, it definitely doesn't belong here.
My eyes flicker wildly round, and I'm sure that I can sense shadows moving in the corner of my eye, yet every time I twist my head around I encounter nothing.
As you always do in a dream, I cover the distance impressively quickly and the object starts to come into focus, my heart starts to beat wildly in my chest. It looks familiar.
Far too familiar.
There's a strange clunking noise, and I'm forced to throw my arm up to shield my eyes as a piercingly bright light suddenly fills the surrounding area.
Blinkingly, I emerge from the safety of my arm which had been keeping me blindfolded and my eyes follow the contours of a familiar golden shape. The cornucopia.
There's a rustle nearby, and I jump violently. If there's a cornucopia here then it can only mean that I've been thrown into another arena. One which looks convincingly like District 11. If I'm in an arena then the only other people here are tributes; this means that this rustling noise signals danger.
The light glints off a familiar looking tawny head; Tallulah. My brain whirls in confusion, because there can't be two female tributes from the same district.
As she rises, her eyes catch sight of me and she holds up a knife in front of her. I stiffen, but I understand; in the arena, friendship means nothing anymore and you only worry about protecting yourself. I won't be offended if she tries to kill me.
But the knife isn't moving in my direction. She whispers, "I refuse to play your Game," as the knife glides closer to her throat. I understand what she's planning to do a split second before she actually does it. The noise of the knife against her flesh, and the sudden gushing of blood is deafeningly loud and penetrates the silence of the night. The scream that rips from my throat is even louder though.
The scream wrenches me out from my own consciousness and I jerk upright, the duvet constricting my waist. Tallulah's words echo within my head, "I refuse to play your Game," and I realise that's what I should have done.
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