~Tuesday: Seven of Clubs~
I was kind of in a really dark place at the time.
I'd just lost both of my parents to accidents at work. After it happened to Mom, I tried to beg Dad to find some simpler line of work, but he always said that he'd be fine, and this was the only way he could sustain both of us. I trusted him, though I was afraid for him. He liked to say that lightning doesn't strike twice in the same spot, but I never believed it.
Mom's death was very sudden. I didn't get to say any kind of proper goodbye to her. Dad's was more gradual. He was injured so badly, and we didn't have the money to take care of him forever, especially with me being too young to work in anything heavy.
I met my best friend when my Dad was in the hospital. I saw her smoking and asked where she got her cigarettes. She offered me one and I smoked it, hoping that somehow it would help me. (It didn't. I reeked like nicotine and I know if my Dad wasn't on his deathbed he would've killed me.) Anyways, we talked for a while, ranted about the whole fucking world. It honestly felt so good to cuss and swear and get it all off my chest. I didn't go too far into my personal affairs (not to a stranger), but even so just being angry with someone else did help.
After so many long days watching over my Dad, he kind of gave up, in a way (but I didn't blame him for it). It was bound to happen sometime, after all. I tried to keep it quiet, but less than a day after he died, I was spotted and taken to the orphanage.
I was only 14 at the time, it was two years ago but I can still remember it like it was just yesterday. The people I'd thought were my friends weren't there when I needed them the most. Either they didn't notice something was horribly wrong, or they didn't care enough to comfort me.
Some days were okay, but most were just torture. The worst were the days in hell when I wanted to be masculine and didn't know it. I just remembering feeling like something was wrong with me, and I couldn't diagnose what it could've been.
I didn't know anything about other genders and all. I was young and ignorant. On the days when I felt okay being cute and feminine, I always brushed any worries about it off to the side. "It was just an off day," I would say.
Maybe it would've been better if I would've had someone to talk to. I was so stuck and alone. I lived in the orphanage for a little bit more than a week, and those were the worst ten days of my life. Every day was worse than the last, more hopeless. I didn't like smoking and wasn't brave enough to try anything else. So many questions were lingering around in my mind that I tried to swat away. I almost tried alcohol but chickened out.
All I really wanted was a friend or two, but all I thought I wanted was loneliness, which made for more misery.
I thought I knew who I was, but I was lying to myself. Truth was, I didn't know anything about myself back then.
All I wanted was to be with them again. I wanted my life to be how it was before my parents died. I wanted to have them, hear them speak, give them hugs…. I didn't even tell Mom I loved her before she went off to work that day.
I was sick and tired of being haunted by the things I didn't say or didn't do for them. I wanted to be free from the nightmares and terrible memories I had. I was approaching it from all the wrong ways, though.
It was late, and I had snuck out of the orphanage. I was wandering around, looking for who-knows-what. Maybe a tall place to jump from. Maybe a gun to shoot. I don't know, honestly. I was just out walking and feeling pretty numb to life.
I was wearing an oversized hoody that was a hand-me-down from someone that got adopted into a fairly well-off family. It was breezy and slightly chilly. I had some scratches on my arms close to my shoulders. I didn't put them there on purpose, exactly, but I didn't really do much to prevent them.
She was there. Evalina, the girl from earlier, who I'd smoked with. I put my hood up and try to get by unnoticed, but it doesn't work.
"You!"
I turn around, lowering my hood slightly. "Me…."
"Almost didn't recognize ya. I thought you were a dude." I mean, the comment didn't really offend me at all. It felt pretty weird, honestly, because the comment was welcome, but at the same time I knew it should be slightly offensive, to say I looked like a guy… Right?
She must've seen the confusion and awkwardness on my face because she changed the subject. "How's life been treatin' you then? Any better?"
I shook my head. "Worse. So much worse."
"Sorry for that, man. That sucks."
"It's fine…" I sigh a little bit.
"Why are you out so late?"
"Just out for a little stroll, I guess." I shift from side to side, changing the subject. "So… What are you reading?"
"Some piece of shit book. Would've been much more interesting if the protagonist was just openly gay without just implying it."
I shift, putting my hands in my pockets. "Uh, yeah, totally." I've kind of avoided that whole topic because it makes me feel really uneasy, especially when other people talk about it.
"It's been so long, you'd think people'd've grown up and just accepted it already. But no."
"Yeah…"
"You seem uneasy. You c'n walk away if you want, but I'm just saying. Some people, like me, are gay. People just need to grow up."
"Yeah…" I scratch the back of my neck.
She sits and watches me. "Legit, you can just go if you're scared of me hitting on your or some shit."
"No, no…" I sit next to her. "Maybe you could… Tell me more?"
I feel like I did that day: wishing I could make my already-flat chest just a little bit flatter. At least I have the necklace, though. Really, that's all I need to remember things will get better. I have so many people waiting for me to return, and I can't let them down.
The sun rises in the sky and Dawson stirs, shivering a little bit in the breeze as wakes up. He stretches and yawns, blinking at me. It's still weird seeing him without a shirt all the time, but he lost it from helping Krissa with her wound and we don't have any extras. Hopefully nobody else gets injured or else he'll be at risk of going in his undies. Which would be both sick and slightly comical at the same time.
"Morning," I say.
He sits up but almost immediately plops down and curls up again, closing his eyes. I really don't care if Dawson and Krissa sleep all freaking morning. It's better than having them awake and talking. As I said, I don't want to grow too close to them. This alliance is only for the sake of teaming up, not for any kind of close bond. Oh God, I probably sound like a horrible person for that, but it's all strategy at this point. I'm sure there are people in this Arena that have done a lot worse.
I have so much to get home to, I can't let anything as simple as a bond to someone else defeat me. I have friends now, and family, and of course, Bryce…
After a while of rolling around, stretching, and groaning, Dawson finally sits up and stays sitting.
"Phew. Morning." He yawns.
"That took a while."
He stretches again, looking ready to go back to sleep. "I don't like the morning very much."
"I can tell." I laugh a little but stop myself. I have to keep on being curt with him, or else he and Krissa will try to be my friends. It's just in their nature, I guess.
"Should we wake her?" Dawson asks.
"I don't care," I say, shrugging.
"Let's let her sleep for just a little bit longer." He goes through a backpack and hands me some dried fruit for breakfast. We eat and reapply sunscreen before Krissa wakes up.
"Morning," says Dawson, helping her sit up. "How do you feel?"
"Better," she says quietly. He hands her some food and takes some for himself. "Thanks," she says quietly.
We sit in silence and eat. Dawson looks slightly uncomfortable with nobody saying a word. Eventually it becomes too much for him and he speaks up. "So, uh, Tuesday…" he swallows food that was in his mouth. "What kinda day are you having?" he fidgets, putting stuff into his backpack.
"Masculine, please." There's a pause. "Uh, thanks for asking." I don't really know the socially acceptable thing to day but I feel like that's around the lines of it.
"Cool," he says, and then the conversation fizzles out.
"So, Tuesday," Krissa says, packing up a backpack. "What happened when the electric goop was here? Tia…" she trails off.
"We were the unlucky saps that got trapped with the Careers," I say curtly. "She wasn't fast enough." I didn't know Tia closely enough to consider us really close, but she was my ally. I mean, of course I feel bad, but mostly her death put a fire under my ass to try harder. "They would've killed me, too, but I told them I knew how to beat the gimmick." Dawson's eyes are slightly wide, Krissa looks interested. "My bluffing skills were really put to the test. But, I'm still alive, so I guess I passed."
"Wow, that sounds like a close call," Krissa sounds slightly amazed.
"Yeah, it really was."
"Amazing. How did you figure it out?"
"Tia actually pointed it out to me before she was killed." I feel bad for saying it so curtly, casually, but I can't think about ethics until I'm out of here. "Without it I would've died, so I guess I owe her one." By winning, of course. Avenging her and coming out alive.
"Oh…" Krissa says.
"I still can't believe the messed up physics of that shit," Dawson grumbles. "That should not have been able to exist. We got trapped with 10, 3, and 8. They all looked pristine, unscathed. Lucky bastards. They seemed to know what to do, but the girl from 8 died. Dawn." He sighs a bit, looking pretty upset with the fact. "It was a very long day."
"Sounds like it," I say, trying to keep my voice devoid of emotion. I only need to know the facts of what happened.
"So, what do you think happened to Empress then?" Krissa asks, sitting back against a tree. "How were the Careers when you saw them?"
"They were fine. I wonder what happened to Katherine, too."
"Guys…" Dawson looks slightly uncomfortable. "Do you think the Careers turned on each other? Maybe that's how Empress died…" he trails off.
I think back to when I saw the Careers. They seemed pretty close. I don't think they would turn on each other… Would they?
"Maybe." If they're separate, then this alliance is going to be even more necessary. But… Will Dawson and Krissa kill, if it comes down to it? Because if not, then this alliance is pointless. I need someone that will help me fight. I can survive on my own, I just need help fighting off others. The thought of Pontifex, Dream, and Janie separated and on the prowl is very unsettling. Who knows what happened to Empress? I guess we're going to find out.
I wish I knew how the others were doing. Just thinking about the other nine people that surround me is nerve-wracking. We're down to the final 10! I'm so close but still have a ways to go before I can win. I wait, hoping to hear a cannon, but hear nothing.
"Well, we best not worry about it now…" Dawson says. "How about we go replenish our water?"
"Sure," I say, but I can't help feeling nervous. I just wish another cannon would go off… As long as tributes keep dying, terrible gimmicks are far away. If nobody dies, there's going to be another gimmick for sure, and that's slightly terrifying.
We take our stuff (I hold my knife as tightly as I can) and go to the springs. We refill our thermoses without any big problems, which is a relief. I wonder what's in store for us today. I'll only destroy myself thinking about it too hard, so I try to let go, just a little bit. Dawson and Krissa talk through the afternoon, while I pace around and stay on my toes. We eat a small lunch, agreeing to take the risk and go hunting for dinner.
After lunch, more time passes. Dawson offers me the opportunity to sleep, and I take it.
I hold my necklace in my hand as I drift off to sleep, wanting nothing more than a ghost of Bryce's presence in this hellhole.
.
I wake up after a dreamless sleep to Dawson yelling my name.
"Tuesday! Help!" I get up and see Dawson and the girl from District 9 locked in a rough fight. I wipe my eyes and sit up, grabbing my knife quickly.
"Dawson! Fight back! Just kill her!" he's in a position to do so.
"I… Can't!" he says, sounding slightly strained and very pained. I know it's not because he's physically unable, it's just because he's not a killer. Which basically means that the whole point of this alliance is gone for me. Dawson looks pained and awkward waving the knife against Tristabelle. Krissa is currently trying to get up but it's much slower because of her injury.
I know there's no point sticking around anymore, but I do know I can't just leave him, right…?
I join the battle sequence, shoving Tristabelle off of Dawson. She starts after me and I do the first thing I can think of: panic. I grab my backpack of stuff and flee, away from Dawson and Krissa and Tristabelle.
I know I can't afford making any more alliances, I'll just have to brave the rest of this miserable experience out on my own. I hear Dawson scream as I run but don't look back. I have my life and that's all that matters. If I'm lucky, I'm going to hear at least one cannon go out of this endeavor.
I run until I reach a clearing where there seems to be nobody and I can sit and relax. I sigh a bit.
I know it was terrible of me to run away when my allies needed to me. Pretty two-faced of me. And yeah, it probably wasn't good of me, but right now I can't afford to focus on the survival of anyone else but myself. If I focus too much on someone else, I might die for them, which isn't what I want.
I know that families from Five and Eleven will never forgive me for this. I know. And I do feel bad, I really do, but… It's still a fight to the death, and only one will survive. I still want to live and get home to my friends and family. That hasn't changed from the time we were reaped. I told them I wouldn't make friends with them. I told them I was just playing the game.
Yeah, it was pretty shitty of me, but I spend the rest of the day anxiously waiting for cannon and trying to justify it.
How would I have felt if it were me? If it were me, though, I would've been able to just kill her.
I wish I would've killed someone, but instead I panicked and ran. I know that next time I'm faced with a situation like that, running away and panicking probably won't be an option. I'm determined to keep the panicking away next time I'm locked in a fight. I'm good at keeping a level head, and I need to keep on being calm and collected. It's the only way I'm going to win.
The sky gets dark with no deaths and no cannons. The Capitol anthem shows no deaths for the day, much to my despair.
I just want to hear cannons, see faces… I want to get home…
I don't want to play this game.
A/N: Woo hoo, slightly uneventful chapter. It's all how I drew the cards, sorry guys. Next chapter should be more interested. Oh well, I hope you enjoyed this little insight into Tuesday. As for when next chapter might come… I have no clue. It all depends on how school treats me.
Hm… Well, the 24/24 I'm a part of is still open, so check out the forum for it! Also, one of the people on the forum is doing an SYOT that needs tributes, so if you want check out epictomguy and submit to his SYOT! That's about all I've got for announcements.
Chapter Question: Do you think Tuesday was justified in leaving? What did you think of that strategy?
Points:
Kate (Your gifts will be received in chapters to come): 158
Dreamer: 113
Jess: 191
magicharity: 163
hopefuldreamer1991: 55
Sinfonian Legend: 165
xQueen-of-Applesx: 40
Lady Lysa Arryn: 56
rising-balloons: 75
superneet1214: 6
Coolgal02: 61
epictomguy: 34
Medium-Indigo (Guest): 60
AbbyCorabby123: 10
falyn. oliver: 43
seaotter99: 22
ThisWorldWeHate: 17
Blonde4ever: 62
Beauty. Is. Strange: 61
Ibbonray: 35