With Scarlett resting her head on my chest, her hair splayed out along my flesh in soft cascades my story that has gone by for many years untold begins to roll off my tongue. There is much of my past that is shrouded in the shadows; casted to the side to be unseen by prying eyes. There if much of my past that would be better off forgotten, but the voices have made it all impossible to forget. To place the blame of what I have done all on them is not what I have done; for they have brought some of my true desires to life. I close my eyes reliving everything, as I start from the beginning.
Through the images that flicker across my eyelids the world around me begins to melt away; giving birth to the images of my past. I look through my ice blue eyes with the perspective of a seven year old child. My skin remains flawless, as the harsh words have yet to be carved into my skin. The lush grass carpets the ground beneath my toes, as I stretch my fingertips towards the sky. I spread my fingers open allowing the delicate wind to play through them.
"I wonder why the sky is blue," I ask myself, innocence dripping in my tone. I nod softly listening to something only I can hear. I am still young, and at this point talking to myself wasn't looked at as abnormal; that however would soon change.
Gulls burst into song above me, as I make my way towards the beach; my final salvation. I take small steady steps, moving as quickly as my seven year old legs will allow me to. The sand is warm beneath my feet from the heat of the afternoon sun that hangs low in the sky. The wind ruffles my blonde hair causing it to stand up at odd angles, but all I care about is feeling the ocean splash against my skin; cool to the touch. The beach is nearly deserted which causes a small smile to tug at my lips. Solitude is something we crave; the feeling of not having eyes trained on me is something I relish in.
I stand at the ocean's edge allowing the salty water to lick at the surface beneath my feet. I blink a few times until the strangled cry of a gull snatches my attention. My eyes fall upon a gull not far from me entangled in a net. My gaze in entrapped on the small white figure that desperately struggles to set itself free.
An easy target; helpless and vulnerable.
I take several steps forward, the voices in my head pushing me forewords. They whisper what they want me to hear; their own sweet desires. Many times before have I woken up in the minute of the night fear gripping at my chest, as they forced me to pay witness to what they would call their own fantasises. My mother would always tell me they were nothing more than nightmares and that in reality they could never cause me harm. If only she knew just how wrong she was. If only she knew these constant nightmares tore down the walls of my mind, giving them access to each and every one of my thoughts; giving them the opportunity to warp and manipulate them as they pleased.
"I'm walking as fast as I can," I whisper, my words carried up along the breeze directed at seemingly no one. I kneel down next to the small bird that looks up at me, sensing the dangerous presence that lurks within me. It squirms desperate to get away from me. Through my childlike eyes I did not understand its desperation; I did not understand its fear. I am but a young boy, what is there to fear?
The voices lurking within my depths remain silent at this thought, as they know there is plenty to fear. They are the only ones who know how they worked their way into my very being. They are the only ones who know about the experiments carried out on me as an infant. To the world I was born this way, but they know better. They know about the injections that were forced into my bloodstream. They know about the poisons that gave birth to their very being. The objective of the experiment was to place the mindset of one that has passed on into a fresh body. A failed experiment I was seen as when I was given back to my parents shortly after I was born; what was done to me unknown to them. Why I was chosen is something even the voices can't decipher. But only they know that the experiment was a success to a degree, as the dark desires of a bloodthirsty general that belong to the Capitol forced their way into my mind becoming a part of me.
I reach my fingers out brushing them along the sleek feathers of the bird causing it to tremble violently. "Don't be afraid I'm not going to hurt you," I whisper as I trail my fingers towards its neck pulling the net away slightly in the process. My gaze remains steady on the pulse that seems to vibrate straight through its neck, as my fingers intertwine their way around its flesh; its neck appearing small and toy like in my grasp. My eyes scream innocence, as if I didn't know what it was I was doing. My grip slowly tightens around the bird's neck squeezing the air straight out of its lungs. The bird thrashes around, but I remain transfixed on its forms not allowing myself to blink once. How could hands so small inflict so much pain?
The bird's eyes bulge; its head threatening to pop off, but instead I begin to dig my fingernails into its flesh. The bird lets out a strangled cry, as blood and bits of feathers begin to work their way beneath my nails. The first look of power I ever possessed creeps its way onto my features and remains prominent. I begin to tear at its flesh even long after the bird draws its final breath. The sound of its last gasp was sweet music to our ears.
The first blood to fall.
I drop the bird's mangled body, staring down at my scarlet stained hands. Now my eyes are filled with nothing, but terror as I could not understand why I had done what I just did. I back away slowly from the body; my entire form trembling.
"Zane is that you?" The sound of my sister's voice causes me to turn around. She immediately picks up on the fact that something is wrong the moment her eyes fall onto me. Her eyes widen in terror as they brush across the bird and then the crimson coating my flesh.
"They made me do it!" I blurt out, wrapping my arms protectively around myself. This is the moment where talking to myself was ladled as abnormal. The moment people began to take notice that something was off about the boy with the ice blue eyes.
The images surrounding me melt away again; the image of what I was forced to call my home bursts into view. Everything is as I remember. The cracks in the floorboards running in criss-cross patterns are still there, as are the pencil marks along the doorframe of the kitchen door that shows mine and Isadora's change in height over the years.
"There is no they Zane; it's only you," The booming voice of my father washes over my nine year old body, as he tries once again to prove to me that the voices in my head are nothing, but a figment of my imagination.
"Dad, why can't you just believe me they-" He cuts me off by bringing his fist down connecting it to the soft skin of my cheek. The impact sends my body crashing to the ground in a broken heap. I can feel the warm sensation of blood working its way across my flesh, as I look up at my father with frightful eyes. I had grown used to his harsh words, but never before had he struck me; making me feel so weak and helpless.
One day you will prove to him that you are so much more than a pathetic excuse of a boy.
"You will listen to me right now Zane; I am sick and tired of the whispers that are spread about you. Do you have any idea how they make me look? I will beat the normal into you if that is what it takes. If I catch you talking to yourself, or speaking about them I will not hesitate to strike you down once more. Do you understand?" He looks down at me, as if I am some sort of insect; something not of this world. A dull anger begins to work its way through my veins, but I do my best to keep this hidden from the surface.
"I understand," I mumble unwillingly.
He is ashamed of who you are because in his eyes you are not normal. Who is he to define what normal is. If only he knew the grave mistakes he is making. If only he knew the great hate you will harbour for many years to come, until the day we finally silence him. How dare he think he can strike us down while we are still stuck in the puny body. Years we will have to wait until our own power surpasses his. One of these days the tables will turn. One day he will fall while we rise from the ashes.
My father grabs me roughly by the collar of my shirt forcing me back to my feet. "Now go to your room," He shoves me sideways having zero regard for if I am able to keep my balance or not. I stumble a few paces before I dash up stairs. My cheek still screams out in pain, as I sit on the floor in the middle of my room.
After a few moments of sitting in an eerie silence my bedroom door squeaks open making it impossible to sneak in and out of my room. I don't even look up as my mother kneels down in front of me and begins wiping the caked blood off my face with a damp cloth. I wince lightly at the feel of the cloth against my skin, but she only takes my hand trying to still me.
"Just stay out of his path and this won't happen again," She says quietly her voice filling the daunting silence. At the age of nine it didn't seem right that I was being told to avoid my father because he didn't like the fact that I was abnormal. It didn't seem right that he was willingly to take things to the extreme to force me into being like everyone else. If only he knew the reasons as to why I am this way; this bloodthirsty boy who has little control over his own actions.
With the blood cleaned from my face the boy I would grow up into being became visible. The lack of emotions and madness became clearly shown in the reflection of my eyes. This is when I began to realize I was nothing more than a vessel; a puppet to be used in their games. I would be forced to fulfill their bloodlust, while they tortured me to their content.
Everything fades once more as the stories of my past continue to spill from my lips. The room flickers giving birth to the image of the school I was forced to attend. Now twelve years old I distanced myself from everyone, spending all of my precious time either talking to myself or writing.
I wander the outskirts of the playground and in the eyes of the other students I appear to be having a conversation with myself, but if only they knew I wasn't alone.
"I have three new bruises because of him," I whisper to myself, as I kick up a few pebbles watching them skitter along the pavement.
Just be patient one day he won't be able to cause us harm anymore.
"How much longer do I have to wait?"
We are waiting for the right moment; the right moment to force him to take his last breath.
"His last breath," My voice trails off as I realize what the voices are suggesting.
It is in your best interest Zane; you hold a power he could never dream of possessing. Why not use it upon those who try to strike you down; who try to tell you you're not normal. For all they know they are the abnormal ones.
"How do you know what is in my best interest?"
We are a part of you don't let that slip your mind. We know everything; we see everything. We know what is best for us.
"I'm not supposed to say us anymore," The wind picks up sending a chill riveting down my spine at these words.
If there is no us then explain to us what we are.
"My imagination," I begin before a sharp pain works its way through my temples.
Don't you dare say we are nothing, but a fathom of your imagination. We are more than anything that a feeble child's mind could think of. We are real Zane and its time you learnt to accept that.
The pain vanishes just as quickly as it appeared. The moment I open my mouth to allow more words to spill from my lips, I am interrupted by the taunting calls of some other students.
"Having fun talking to no one there Zane," A boy from the grade above me calls out receiving a few snickers from the crowd that has formed behind him.
Fight back with your words; show them we are not one to be messed with.
"It's better than talking to the likes of you," I say back calmly.
"So insane Zane does have a backbone," The boy takes a step towards me intent on trying to set me off; something I don't plan on doing, as I refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing he got to me.
"It's not having a backbone as I am not really standing up for myself, as your words have no affect on me," I glance up at him my eyes appearing cold and dead. My gaze causes the boy to stop dead in his tracks; afraid to take a step forward.
"I highly doubt that, everyone at this school knows there is something wrong with you," A cruel sneer tugs at his lips, as several more students begin to gather wanting to watch this scene unfold with intent eyes.
I tilt my head to the side as I keep my gaze on him, "Ever consider the fact that you're the abnormal one?"
Your words are beginning to have a toll on him, just witness the waver of emotions in his eyes.
"I am perfectly normal," He snaps at me.
Tell him everything that only we can see. Tell him all his flaws that your eyes can't miss.
"Normal is not someone who scrunches up their nose every few minutes showing that you are sensitive to smell. Not having control over your senses is weakness. Normal is not someone who has the tendency to go cross-eyed when you are trying to think of a clever comeback. That shows that you lack focus. Normal is not someone who wears their emotions, so clearly in the reflection of their eyes. That shows that you don't have the capacity to keep your emotions in check. This could be due to your lack of intelligence," Anger ripples across his features as he strides across the pavement at an alarming speed.
This is what we were expecting; rash he is giving into the animal within. The savage that you also possess, but that we have control over.
I move with a swiftness unknown to me, as the older boy moves to smash his fist into my skull. Before he can even react I have his arm turned around at an unnatural angle pinned against his back. A yelp of pain escapes his lips as whispers ripple among the crowd that has gathered.
"You should be afraid of the abnormal," I whisper menacingly not releasing my hold, but tightening it slightly craving to hear him gasp out in pain.
"Let go of me you psychopath!" He screams out struggling against my hold. The only thing that stops me from snapping his arm like a twig is the swift movement of the teachers breaking up the fight.
He won't ever dare bothering us again.
I open my eyes allowing them adjust to the moonlight that drifts through the window; casting twilight shadows across Scarlett and I. She remains quiet for a few brief moments knowing I still have more to tell. The next part of my life that needs to be told has been burned into my memory. That moment had defined me for forever more. That moment is what drove me to the brink of insanity with no chance of turning back.
Alright, so that is just the beginning to the stories of Zane's past there is quite a bit more, but I didn't want the chapter to be freakishly long ;D There will be at least two more chapters revealing what he went through back in District 4. Now you know what to do review ^^