Warning: Allusions to sexual assault. Attempted self-harm.
Chapter One - "Limbo"
I lurch upward as if awaking from the dead. I feel like the dead too. It's all in my head. I have a terrible headache that pangs out in waves.
I raise a hand and pat the problem area, frowning at how soft it feels. As if my head were wrapped with cotton. At the same time, my vision is so damn blurry I barely see a thing. Wasn't it morning time? Wasn't I in a car? Where the hell is Mom? Where the hell is Paulus? Where the hell is Dad?! My vision begins to settle and I realize that I'm in a warehouse of sorts, steel pillars, brick finishing and glass roofing. I hear murmuring, as if people were talking all around me.
A hand clutches my chest and I immediately fight back. Due to my fatigue, my protests are immediately stopped with another hand pressing against me and forcing me down onto something soft, like a bed. I'm on a bed. Why though? I turn my head to see a woman looming over me. Olive complexion, brunette hair tied into a messy bun and a pointy nose to boot. The only reason I don't flail for my life is because she's in a PK combat medic uniform.
"Cadet Rivendell, stop it right now." The Medic presses, jutting a finger toward me. "Fighting like this will not help."
I notice the subdued solid bars on her collar, which denotes her as a lieutenant. I immediately go rigid at attention. The Lieutenant sighs in annoyance, moving her hands to my shoulders and she gives me a firm shake.
"Stop. There's no need for formalities. You're only making things worse right now." She says firmly, pressing on my collarbone. "I need you to breathe. Just breathe."
I nod. Okay. Breathe. I can do that. I finally still, causing her to unhand me. I turn to my left and right, taking in the hundreds of bedridden men and women that line the warehouse floor. Able-bodied soldiers rush to and fro with equipment and gurney's carrying wounded. And then I really focus, realizing just now noisy this place truly is. Most notably, it's the loudness of their commands being barked back and forth that assaults my eardrums. I'd give anything to sit up again, but the Lieutenant still has a vice-like grip on my shoulders.
My head tosses and turns. "Who, what, where-"
"I'm Lieutenant Rhodes," she says. "Doctor Lieutenant Rhodes. You're safe now, in a field hospital just outside Ravinstill Springs." Something in her face falls and she can barely look me in the eyes now. "There's been a very bad accident. I...Uhm..."
"Wha-what happened?" I rasp out. "Mom, Dad, Paulus...?"
Lt. Rhodes' eyes flicker upward into mine, her expression strained. Its then that the pain comes back in force, erupting in my head and somehow between my legs. I let out a groan as every little thing comes flooding back.
...
It all happens within the blink of an eye.
Mom fires two shots into the pale-skinned man in front of her. He wails out in pain, doubling back before crashing onto the ground. Dixen levels his rifle and fires a burst into Mom as she too cries out in agony and crumples to the ground. She barely has time to wreathe on the ground before Dixen sprays her again, stilling her while her head jerks and blood erupts from her mouth.
"Mom!" I shriek, moving to her aide only for the pale-skinned tunnel rat from Thirteen to wrap me in a headlock and corral me to the ground. "Get off! Get the fuck off!"
The Thirteen grunts as I continue to wriggle under his grasp."Shadd...are you alright!?"
"Mom Mom Mom Mom! Oh..." I babble. My eyes are unable to leave her broken form. Her chest area is wet with blood now, growing wider by the millisecond. "Lemme go you dumb fuckin' bastard!"
"The bitch shot me!" the ashen-skinned man, Shadd, hollers while gripping his arm. "The fuckin' bitch shot me!"
Dixen turns to aid him. "Hold on, lemme get a tourniquet!"
Dad takes advantage, grappling for the rifle in Dixen's grasp. But his leg, his Snowforsaken leg. Dixen stamps down on Dad's knee and it gives way, causing him to drop to one leg and for Dixen to line up his shot and fire.
I'm screaming bloody murder while Dad drops to the ground, blood flowing freely from the open hole in his head onto the road. I think Dad's about to get up, but instead he settles into that unnatural position while the blood continues to dribble out of him. I'm breathing as if I've ran a thousand miles, my head swivels between the downed forms of Mom and Dad. This couldn't be happening, right? They were just hurt bad and needed help before it was too late. If only the aaThirteen get off!
Paulus lets out a roar, striding toward Dixen as he gets one good strike in, right upside the traitor's bald head. Dixen winds back and returns with a strike of his own, swinging the butt of his rifle into Paulus' temple. The connection is audible even I can hear it as I'm pressed against the ground. Paulus goes down hard onto the road, helpless as Dixen drags him a few feet away and begins beating into him, raising the stock of his rifle up and down, up and down against his head.
"PAULUS!" I wail, wriggling vigorously from Matix's grasp. "STOP, you'll kill him!"
It's no use. The ghost of a boy has his hand wrapped into my hair. No matter how many times I try to wriggle away, he won't get off of me. My cheek against the road, all I can do is shriek and watch as Dixen and even Shadd begin beating Paulus with their rifles. Paulus would attempt to get up each and every time...until he just doesn't. He lies flat on his stomach now, wrists overturned and his face turned away from me. Even so, I can already see the purplish discoloration, not to mention the blood that pocks his brown hair.
"Shadd, Dixen that's enough!"Matix bites. "You weren't supposed to kill them! How am I supposed to obtain intel from dead people!"
"...You saw...what that bitch did!" Shadd whines.
"Our hands are tied-" For good measure, Dixen slams the butt of his rifle into Paulus' head again, grunting as the rifle connects once more. No response from Paulus. "And 'sides...We got all the intel we need right here."
The oaf of a man turns to face me, grinning as he stalks closer to where Matix has me in a grapple hold.
"What are you talking about?" Matix asks.
"Put 'er down."
"What-"
"Put. 'Er down." Dixen repeats harshly. "And back off. I got this."
I gasp as the pressure is released from my head. The only word playing like a record in my head is "Paulus". Paulus Paulus Paulus Paulus. "Paulus!" I spring onto my feet and I stumble over to his fallen form, crashing to my knees as I reach for his shoulders. Just as I turn him over, something dark flies into my vision and sends me careening onto the ground again. My Career training kicking into overdrive, I ignore the screaming pain that erupts in my temple and attempt to kip-up onto my feet again...only for a rifle barrel to keep me supine. Its owner, Dixen, gives me another one of his nasty grins.
"We have a whole family full o' fighters!" he exclaims. "This one included. You must be one of the Capitol's killers-in-training?" his boot plays footsie with my right shoe, so hard it causes my entire right leg to spread open. Gasping, I quickly kick his foot away. His grin grows so wide it should split his head in half. "They always seem to have that wild look about them." He drawls, stopping just before us. "After you put 'em in their place...They get real humble-like."
One part of my brain says "fight fight fight!" while the other takes in the rifle leveled at my head and says "wait for an opportunity." But what 'opportunity' was there? There are multiple men with guns pointed at me?!
"What are we gonna do with this one Dix?" the man known as Shadd asks why striding ever so closer. He too has that grin on his lips. I've seen this grin plenty of times at the Academy. Boys outnumber girls two to one and with that comes a misconception that girls can't hack it. That we're only good for one thing.
My eyes shift to the boy my age, Matix. He's just as weary and confused as I am. A rifle is tossed into his grasp.
"You hold that rifle nice n' steady, right between her eyes," Dixen instructs, holding his ugly gazes toward me. I notice that his hands rest on his waist, on his belt, and my brain begins to scream. "If she makes any moves, you blow her head off."
My chest heavy with fear, I glance back at Matix again. I'm probably wearing the same, fearful and confused expression as he is.
"Now that I think of it," Shadd says, eyeing me. "She is quite the dish. It's a shame her Ma had to be a dumb bitch so soon."
"Dixen, I'm in charge of this reconnaissance mission." Matix warns steps forward, his grip renewed on the rifle in his hands. "Let's just detain her and be on our way-"
Dixen turns to face Matix, getting up in his space. "Boy, shut the hell up. You ain't in charge of shit-"
My brain shrieks. Zenobia, move now!
I spin on my stomach and leap onto my feet, only to crash onto the ground again just as fast. The culprit is a hand that grips my ankle. Just as quickly, I spin onto my back, pumping a foot into Dixen's head as I relish in his cry of pain. I twist myself in an attempt to escape from his grasp once more, only to be dragged against the road so my body is level with his. Scraping against the pavement, the entirety of my left leg stings. Gripping my shoulders, he spins me around to see his beet red face.
I hock my saliva and spit it at him. "Leave me alone you asshole-"
I earn his fist into my cheek in response. He hits me so hard my head collides against the pavement, rendering me near deaf. I couldn't help but gasp, stunned by the strike. Never have I ever been struck in the face like that. Not even by Mom or Dad. Of course the rest of my body wasn't spared, but the cheek? Never.
Shocked, all I can do is watch - not even clean the blood that dribbles down my lip as Dixen presents a large knife in my sight. Teasingly, he bops my nose with it.
"Now if you move..." Dixen says, his rancid breath causing my eyes to water...Or were my eyes watering due to this situation I find myself in? "I'll do you a whole lot worse than a hurt ego."
I watch as the blade moves from my face to the bottom of my blouse, where it remains tucked into my skirt. In a swift motion, he swipes upward, doing away with my buttons while exposing my chest to the bitter morning cold.
My vision is anywhere but my front. I didn't want to believe what's happening. My parents were shot, my brother beaten. I can't believe this is happening. While one hand roams my body, tearing away at my skirts, another forcefully shoves my head to the pavement. As the side of my face is pressed against the ground, it's then that I see the turned back of the Thirteen as he strides back towards their vehicles.
...
Lt. Rhodes' hand caresses mine, serving as an escape from that hell I just relived. It's not even an escape. Even as she pulls me into the present with her gentle caresses, my mind continues to go back to what happened on that highway.
"It's been three days since the incident," The Lieutenant says. "Your parents didn't make it. Your brother...well, he's alive, but it's up in the air..."
I toss the blankets off of me. I need to breathe. I need these visions to go away. I close my eyes. I try to think of yesterday's dinner, the finale of the Quarter Quell even. Nothing works. Those men using my body are all that fills my brain. Why won't they go away?!
"Oh gods-" I feel something rise in my throat as I lurch forward and empty the contents of my stomach onto my gown and bedding.
Lt. Rhodes brings me to a shower area. It hurts so much that I'm walking knock kneed. After she unbinds my head bandage, I'm left alone in the open room, lathering my skin raw and tingling for what feels like eons before the Lieutenant fetches me out. I still smell their musks, their forceful hands, their breaths...the foul taste in my mouth.
"I'm not ready," I murmur, snatching the towel out of her grasp to cover my naked body. "I...I still feel dirty."
"You're clean, I promise," The Lieutenant replies solemnly. "You spent an hour using up the hot water. It did the job-"
"No, no..." I shake my head. It's not enough. It may never be enough. "Do you have a toothbrush?"
I repeat the same process as the showers, brushing my teeth until they and my gums feel sensitive to the touch. Lt. Rhodes leaves me to get dressed in my civvie attire they must've brought along. While changing, I become overwhelmed and I begin to wail. It takes me a while to get fully dressed before joining the Lieutenant outside again. Hands folded against my chest, I follow her to a more isolated area of the warehouse. I notice that these wounded are worse off than the others. Some are bandaged from head to toe or have lost a limb or two. Out of the row of wounded, I immediately recognize my brother.
"Paulus!" I sob, crashing down onto his bedside and grip his forearm. His head is bandaged up with multiple layers, though the blood seeps through even that. Even his chest is bandaged and various tubes stick out of him. It's all my fault. I should've joined him when he made the move but instead I froze like some petrified little girl. The Lieutenant touches me and I flinch hard, causing her to spring backward.
"Please be careful with him," she pleads. "His condition is...very fragile. Very."
I ignore her, nuzzling against his hand. What he needs - I need - is touch. I'm so shocked I can't help but fixate my eyes on the bandages that take up the majority of his head. Never have I ever seen Paulus so broken, so lifeless.
...
I feel numb when they ease off of me and adjust themselves with a chuckle. The Dark-skinned one or the pale-skinned one, I don't know or care. My eyes are focused on the length of the road, towards The Nut where I so desperately wish I was.
"I'm...gonna kill you..." I say between sobs. "I'm gonna kill you, your kids-
One of them bashes their rifle into my temple not once but twice. When I fall into unconsciousness, I thought that was it, until I come to later. The Rebels were long gone by the time I wake up. My blouse and skirt in tatters, I get on my hands and knees and scramble towards Mom and Dad.
Dad is done for. He lays face first in a pool of his own blood, staining his utilities. Not to mention the gaping hole that resembles an exploding cigar in his head. Sobbing and sniffling, I shuffle over to Mom who gazes up toward the sky with lidded eyes and parted lips exposing the slightest bit of teeth. She has multiple chest wounds so I shake her, hoping that she still had at least a little bit of life left. No. Her eyes remain glued toward the sky.
When I think that all is lost, I hear a low moan.
"Paulus?" I spin around toward my brother's prone form, noticing how is mouth is slightly agape and moving. I begin crawling towards him. "Paulus, oh my gods are you alright? D-Don't move, y-you'll only make it worse!"
His head has a deep indent with its own pool of blood under it. His eyes are closed but his mouth continues to suck air in and out. I cradle him in my lap, cringing as a gust of cool air blows through me. I screech for someone, anyone to come and help us.
...
The Lieutenant moves from my side to the opposite end of the bed so that she's in my peripherals.
"I need to redress your head wound," she says. "I'm...I'm also aware of what happened to you specifically and we need to continue to treat that too."
I let out a shudder that rattles me to my core as she says that. Stop bringing it up. When you bring it up, the scenes come back as clear as day and I don't want them to. I don't bother answering Lt. Rhodes, instead opting to lie my head against Paulus' middle. Breathing in his scent fills my head with the old and makes me forget the now.
The Lieutenant has to physically come to my side and administer whatever medicines I required, which is fine by me. As long as I lay here with Paulus, I don't have to take in the world around me. Him and I can just exist in our own little bubble. He'll wake up soon and then we can move on together.
Paulus doesn't wake up.
It's been a week since...everything, and Paulus hasn't budged at all. I would know. I've never left his side. I haven't showered since waking up myself and probably wouldn't have eaten if Dr. Rhodes didn't press MREs into my hands. Even then I barely touched them. Dr. Rhodes says that he's been hooked up to a machine ever since the attack because he couldn't breathe on his own.
"Rivendell," Dr. Rhodes says, tapping my shoulder. The tap turns into a firm but gentle shoulder grab. "Zenobia...The War has a lot of our men piling up. Resources are strained. It's been a week, one week of him not breathing on his own. I'm sorry to say, but Paulus is-"
"No!" I hiss at her. Doctor or not, she doesn't know what she's saying. Paulus is one of the toughest men I know. "He just needs more time - he got it worse than I did. I was out for nearly three days. It makes sense that he'll take longer to heal."
"Zenobia...I'm sorry." Dr. Rhodes removes her hand from my shoulder. "Sedate her. Bring her back to her cot."
I glance left and right, only to find myself being hauled onto my feet by two Peacekeepers. The scenes come back and I begin shrieking bloody murder as I attempt to thrash out of their grasp.
"No no no no, get off of me!" I cry, extending a hand towards Paulus as doctors begin to descend on him. "Paulus, Paulus wake up!" Something stings me and I hiss out in pain as gradually my vision becomes heavier and heavier. "Ah! S-Stop! Paulus...oh no..."
Days later, the loyalists declare victory within the district capital. Soldiers both wounded and able bodied pop bottles and sing songs but I find that there's nothing to celebrate. So, I continue to do what I have been doing since they pulled the plug on Paulus. I sit upward on my cot with my knees pulled into my chest as I stare off into space wondering to myself what I could've done differently to save my family? We should've barreled right through that barricade. We had a 4x4 for Panem's sake. We should've gone in guns blazing, at least then I would be with them...wherever they were.
Dr. Rhodes continues to give me MREs, but this time she has to force my mouth open to get the food in. One time she uses her rank and chews me out, but I'm beyond caring at this point.
"I've lost people too, you know," she says to me, eyes wet with budding tears. "I have a little sister who ran off with the Rebels and we don't know where she is. She could be dead in a ditch for all we know."
I barely register her words, instead opting to focus on the westernmost wall. I wish I could be dead in a ditch. I'd rather be dead than a weakling who let...things be done to her without a single fist thrown.
At least now I can do something about it. I can address my failure as a daughter and an aspiring Peacekeeper.
In the middle of the night, I gather some tubing and make my way to the corner of the makeshift hospital with a chair in tote. Knots are something they drill into us in grade school.
When I'm sure that the guards are elsewhere, I tie the most perfect noose, linking one end to the piping as I tentatively bound up onto the chair so that I'm facing the rows upon rows of the infirm. If we did something differently - if I did - then they would be here too and there would be something worth celebrating. I'm named after a victor yet I couldn't even muster the courage to step up when it mattered most. I'm a disgrace to the name Rivendell.
Through the dim lighting of the hospital, I see a figure making their way toward me. It's Dr. Rhodes. As soon as she locks eyes with me, her bounding turns into a sprint, weaving past gurneys and equipment at a lightning pace.
"Zenobia?!" she barks, jabbing a finger my way. "You get down right now!"
I waste no time in kicking the chair from under me, allowing my weight to tug me down and set me free.
The piping failed. What could one expect when the building is as old as dirt. So old that even a hundred and twenty pound sixteen-year-old could burst the pipes if she tried.
After a few days of being handcuffed to my cot, and force-fed liquid meals through a tube, Dr. Rhodes takes an even more vested interest in my health.
"Why won't you just let me go...?" I bemoan one night. She would conduct the same routine, grab a chair after overseeing the other patients and spend the night watching over me.
"You're my patient, Zenobia," Dr. Rhodes replies with matching intensity. She places a hand on my thigh for extra emphasis. I frown at this, as even though I tolerate it her doing that is like placing my hand on a hot surface, it becomes unpleasant fast. Rhodes knows this and places her hand in her lap. "I've lost dozens of men and women over the past few months. Most were simply out of my hands. But you, I can mend you. You may not be one hundred percent whole like you were previously but I can help you."
I shake my head. "How can you help me if I can't help myself?"
"What happened to you and your family was unavoidable, Zenobia." She replies. "There are still ways you can avenge them. Have you seen the way the War is going? They're going to need young people like you helping to make decisions regarding captured rebels. Those men are still out there, somewhere. How can we truly put them away if you're not around to share your truth?"
Dr. Rhodes is right. Not even a week after that conversation, they capture Shadd hiding out in Pueblo, south of Two's capital. Dixen is wounded and captured in District 9. It seems that I'm not the only girl or boy that they attacked. The pale-skinned boy, the Thirteen, probably joined the rest of the Rebel body in their retreat back east. I'm unsatisfied. Two out of three wasn't enough. The Thirteen needed to be punished too. I silently wish to myself that he dies in a mutt attack or airstrike.
They hold a thrown together trial with some high-ranking Peacekeepers, us victims and some people to witness. I couldn't help but notice that these monsters had kids. Alongside the men who shall not be named, I glare at their families.
"Junius Dixon, Marion Shadd, you are hereby found guilty of rape, murder and murder of Capitol officials." The Judge booms. "We shall let the public decide what's just in this particular case."
When they're led out of the makeshift courtroom I can't help myself. I beat the dark-skinned ogre with my shoe and spit on him for good measure before Rhodes and another PK subdue me. I manage to wriggle out of their grasp and watch as the townspeople and soldiers alike tear the two men apart. As I watch the both of them get berated and beaten, their family members fleeing as they too get abused, I think to myself that all this still wasn't enough.
Rhodes stands by my side as we watch the crowd move away from the bloody pulps on the ground. They were stomped on so much their heads fuse into the stone indents on the road. They tag the bodies as 'Rapists' and 'Marauders' for passersby to view.
Lt. Rhodes places a gloved hand on my shoulder as we watch the townspeople begin to leave. "Do you feel better at all?"
A gust blows in, causing my brunette ringlets to obscure my vision somewhat.
"No." I answer. There's still one more person involved who hasn't faced the music yet. I can only hope to the Sun he gets killed before this war is over. Then and only then would I start to heal.
From the depressing winter emerges a hopeful spring.
Katniss Everdeen is a total mess after her capture. They have her on HV weekly yearning for all remaining Rebels to surrender and according to the news, many of them seem to take her advice. District 11 proves to be stubborn but we have the western half of Panem's largest district. District 6's capital is slowly being cleared. Word on the street is that District 13 is creating a defensive line dubbed "The Mockingjay Line" as a last defense. The official consensus is that the War will be over by fall, which serves as a sense of happiness among the troops. Still, I don't really see the light as much as Dr. Rhodes drones on about it.
As of right now, this warehouse continues to serve as my home. After burying Paulus and my parents, Dr. Rhodes swore off having me stay in my family home all by myself. So, I help her with the wounded. Despite District 2 being 'pacified', there are still pockets of resistance that need destroying not to mention High Command still sends wounded troops to this location. I find it to be decent, yet sad work. I can't exactly offer comfort to the men while I'm a mess myself.
I find myself thinking back to the trial and execution of the men who took everything from me. I was lying when Rhodes asked if I felt any better. I loved the way they cried out in agony as PKs broke them limb by limb, I loved the way their families were shamed out of town. I feel marginally better, but a hole exists inside me that makes me feel extremely bitter. I'm not sure if it'll ever go away.
Like a dutiful troop, I follow Dr. Rhodes along as she administers medicine to the wounded when we see an eight-wheeler PLS truck pull into the receiving zone.
"That must be our much-needed supplies rolling in." Dr. Rhodes motions me forward. "C'mon Rivendell, we got some unloading to do."
When we approach the PLS, its personnel dismount from the truck. A colored girl about my age leaps from the passenger side landing just before me as she removes her helmet, revealing medium, curly jet black hair and light brown eyes with arched brows.
My heart flutters at the sight of a friendly face. "...Domita?"
"Oh my gods, Riv?! No fuckin' way," Domita Wilson smiles from ear to ear, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug. Weirdly enough, I don't mind physical contact from her. "What the hells are you doin' here?! It's been months! Where's Paulus and the folks?!"
The fact that one of my closest girlfriends is safe and sound, coupled with the shit storm that was my life as of recent makes it easy for me to tear up and I do. The tears are hot against my cheeks as I let out a wobbly sigh.
Domita's smile deflates into a deep frown as she moves from me and begins shaking her head. "No way..." With her hands on her hips now, she truly takes in what I'm trying to say, then she waves me off. "Don't give me that look Riv... How?! How is that possible?"
"I...I..." I try to formulate words but they end up coming out as useless babbling. So I simply shrug as Domita pulls me back into a hug.
"You don' worry 'bout that right now," she says, caressing my back. "I'm...I'm sorry to have even brought it up."
I ask about the rest of our friend group, hoping that they too are alright and escaped the War somewhat unscathed.
"Everyone is great. We're all doin' different things, but we're okay." She answers. "Randy lost an eye."
I frown. Randall lost an eye? "How'd he manage that?"
"He killed Lyme Rabe in a firefight," Domita lets out a quiet cackle. "Lyme Rabe, a victor! He's a legend in his own right now."
It seems that everyone in my friend group is out doing something tangible for the war effort. Except me, that is. I'm no Beatrix Baines, nursing people to health isn't my forte. I'm taken for surprise when Domita invites me to stay with her folks out in Pueblo.
"Are you sure?" I reply. "I don't wanna be a burden..."
"Yea, I'm sure," Domita replies, her facial features becoming grim. "You probably didn't hear the news, but Wade died in battle out in District 11. It'd be nice to have a friend on hand while we bury him."
Domita hails from a giant family, almost too many cousins and relatives to count. Including the Rankine's to which her ma was one until she got married. Wade Rankine was Two's last remaining victor, the War taking them all out and our last Hunger Games victor, winning in HG 73 only to be overshadowed by Fire Girl and Lover Boy a year later.
"I'm so sorry Domita-"
She waves me off. "Don't worry 'bout no 'sorry', Riv. Make it up to me by taggin' along."
"You should go." I turn to see that Dr. Rhodes hasn't left us, her nose deep inside a datapad. "Leaving the city should help heal you a tad. I'll take care of any correspondence in regards to school."
I shrug, grinning weakly in contrast to Domita's beaming smile. It's not like I have much here anyway.
"I mean sure, why not?"
Domita Wilson is probably the only colored person I speak to on a normal basis. Even then I barely scratch the surface seeing as she lives room and board at the Academy. So when we finally arrive at Pueblo, seeing how her family rolls is a shock within itself. Because they own a ranch, they still keep a loins share of the produce even though the government buys the rest. When District 6 finally becomes rebel free and the southernmost rebels are pushed into a pocket on the border of District 11 and 8 - all just in time for Panem Day nonetheless - Domita's brood breaks out the barbeque and the collard greens and the mashed potatoes. As I sit here and try to take in the food they keep throwing at me, I can't help but wonder to myself how a family can get this huge.
"Thank you so much, Mrs. Wilson," I say, covering my mouth as I belch. "But I don't think I can eat anymore..."
"You coulda fooled me!" Domita's mother cackles. "You need more meat on those bones, girl."
Being with Domita's family helps a lot with forgetting the past winter. They keep me busy with duties around the ranch, not to mention High Command still uses Academy cadets are general duty troops, so Domita and I join in on local patrols through town. The Rebels in Two are long gone, so I find that most of the time is spent sitting around receiving the praises of the local townspeople. I dislike it. The local tavern miraculously retained its stocks throughout the crisis, so we sit outside of it now, eating our free ice cream offered to us by the overly gracious owner.
"What's the matter with you, stringbean?" Domita asks, elbowing me when she notices my sour mood. "It's free ice cream, what's there not to like?"
"I don't deserve this." I reply with a sigh, handing her my cup which she takes gingerly. "While everyone else was fighting - losing their eye - I was lying on a cot in a hospital because I didn't act."
She turns toward me. "Maybe you can act."
"How so?" I ask with a quirked brow.
"The Hunger Games are comin', no doubt 'bout it..." Domita replies, a playful glint in her eye as she keeps her vision forward. "They wouldn't let a year go to waste. The Academy might host an ACT. You get on that, get selected...Maybe you could get your revenge that way."
"Oh yeah..." I almost forgot about the Games. A grin grows on my face as I daydream about slicing and dicing rebels. The more I think about it, the more I want it to come true. I could do it for Paulus, Mom and Dad. They would be proud of me. The Rivendell last name won't be one of sadness but the same grit that my aunt brought to it when she won her Games.
...
Days after our little ice cream talk, the Academy dropped off some 'notice to report' forms for Domita and me. We're moving to the eleventh grade. I had taken an occupation exam the year prior and it seems everything worked out. I'm to be made an officer cadet so that by the time I graduate from the Academy, I can begin my training as a political affairs officer at the military college, which is exactly what Mom and Dad wanted for me.
I place the papers in my lap and grin. I grin not because I got my 'dream job'. I could care less about the job now. School is about to resume, which means Career training, which means, acing the ACT, which means me being selected as female tribute and killing as many rebels as I can, victory or not. I wasn't too keen on Career training, not before the incident. It was all to make Mom and Dad pleased. But now, I'm convinced this is the only way I could make good for Paulus, Mom and Dad.
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! - Our protagonist (anti-hero?) Zenobia Rivendell has been added to the blog. I imagined Eva Green as her face claim, as you may see. I utilized two artists for her. Nikita Kapitputov and Pino44io. She may look one way over the other, but Eva green is my goto.
! - They were basically an extension of the martial society she lives in, but she loved them anyway. Brigitta, Paulus and Marcus Rivendell has been added to the blog. Brigitta was referenced by Sarah Paulson. The thought of Ms. Paulson dead is just unfathomable...
! - Being a combat medic is tough work, that triples when youth wards are thrown into the mix, but she's up to the challenge. The Rhodes family are very intense people, they put 100% into all they do, even if the task itself seems impossible. Lt. Monica Rhodes has been added to the blog. Holly Hunter is her actress if I had any sway. Thank you Elim9 for submitting Hermia Rhodes to me. Otherwise, Monica wouldn't be a thing.
! - The United States Air Force Academy (Barron Overwhill Academy for Military Arts) has also been added to the blog via the photo gallery.
!- Zenobia Rivendell - Cadet Uniform has also been added to the blog via the photo gallery.
!- Title Sequence/Book Cover - has also been added to the blog via the photo gallery and 'Home'.
Coming up next...
It only takes under an hour to arrive at Barron Overwhill Academy for Military Arts, including the various checkpoints the Peacekeepers have in place throughout the district. I take it all in stride, watching Rebel prisoners rebuild the damage they cause under heavy Peacekeeper guard, civvies attempting to go about daily life again throughout the slight ruins all the way until we pass by the static fixtures of tanks, hovercraft and to top it all off, a gigantic gold statue of cadets standing proudly while they gaze off into the distance, signifying our arrival.