CW for trippy imagery, child abuse (including implied CSA), and body horror. Might want to be in a good headspace when reading this one.
Consus Anona, 18, District Nine, Leo
Consus was drowning.
It was a sensation he hadn't experienced before. District Nine had large bodies of water, certainly. But his work kept him away from them most of the time, keeping to the flatlands of corn and wheat. The arena was the first time he'd seen so much water. Perhaps he should have known when he saw it that this was how he would die.
The lake itself wasn't deep. Eight or nine feet, possibly. If he could orient himself properly he was reasonably sure that he could come up for air at the very least. But it was difficult to tell what was up or down in the moment. The pain in his shoulder and the water in his lungs made it difficult to focus. And the longer he was submerged, the weaker reality seemed.
Consus remembered the way BV looked earlier in the cave, talking to his own hologram. He'd merely stood in the pond for a few minutes and the hallucinations had been that powerful. Nate similarly had only briefly made contact when gathering them water to drink. So what chance did he have, the toxic water filling his lungs? Up and down seemed like such trivial things when he wasn't even in a pond anymore. Colors and locations shifted in front of him. One moment on a mountaintop, another in the Capitol. Time blew apart, stretching and condensing in ways that made no logical sense. Until he was standing on the fields of Nine.
He'd heard somewhere that when you drowned, your life flashed before your eyes. Or perhaps that was death in general. Consus didn't pay too much attention to idle gossip. He wondered if it would have helped him to do so. Perhaps in all the small talk and frivolous conversation there was a key about how to get out of the situation. Or perhaps it would have made the images worse.
Once again he recalled the ghostly image of BV. Would his own assertion that he'd see his life prompt the drugs in his systems to show him just that? Was there any way to influence what he saw so that he could actually find his way out?
It wasn't certain. Few things were in his life, nowadays. But he had to try.
Revalie Satyr, 17, District Ten, Taurus
The pond wasn't particularly cold, but it might as well have been ice to Revalie. She was used to warmer climates and heat rarely bothered her. But there were days when she had to ask her boss to fetch her meat from the walk-in freezer, and during winter she was always at risk for illness.
She shivered, which caused the water around her to ripple. The waves coalesced together until they more resembled cracks in glass than water. She reached out, and the glass in front of her shattered. She fell deeper than made sense. How big was this pond anyway? And how long had she been under? It felt like hours, but if that were true she'd be dead already.
Maybe she was dead.
Then she landed on a smooth wooden floor that she remembered all too well. In front of her was a man in black billowing robes sitting in an elevated seat. There was an alcove next to the man where her uncle stood.
And to Revalie's right, there was a girl.
She was wearing a deep muddy brown jumpsuit that was too large for her. They didn't usually have prisoners that young, she remembered. Revalie had attempted to roll and tuck the massive garment in a way that it would fit her at least a little better. But they hadn't allowed her any pins or clips, so the act was mostly futile.
"Can you tell the jury what you saw that night?" A lawyer asked her uncle.
"It was dark." Her uncle said, "And it all happened very quickly. But I thought I saw a figure coming from my brother's house. A man, tall. Again, I couldn't see a lot of details. So I decided to investigate."
"What happened then?"
"I found Kale's- Mayor Satyr's body. Revalie came down shortly after. She said she heard screaming."
"So you were there before Revalie?"
"Yes. She couldn't have done it."
Consus
Moments of his life passed by him as he stood in the field. He watched a shrouded figure place him in a basket on the steps of the children's home. A dramatization, he imagined. But no one had been there to see it properly.
The women who ran the place took him in, cared for him just like the other children. Some were abandoned as babies, like him. Others were abused or lost their parents young or were simply given away because their family couldn't afford them any more. Lost children were fairly common in Nine. He was just one of many, a singular face in the crowd. Consus lived in a room with eleven other beds, brushed his teeth in one of only two bathrooms.
He grew, surrounded by children. Surrounded by noise. Consus began to take solace in moments he could find by himself. He created schedules and order and put his life into neat boxes to avoid the uncertainty of the home. The years went by, and Consus grew but remained steady.
Consus watched as he took a job in the wheat fields. Years went by in the same manner, stroke by stroke. Alone, steady, predictable.
"Well look at that." His stylist Brutus was suddenly beside him, "It's all just so… pathetic isn't it?"
Revalie
The scene shifted to something else, something earlier, a moment before a reaping ceremony when she was 10 or 11. Revalie stood next to her sister Lyssa, forming a line as their mother inspected them.
"Lyssa, take that jacket off." She said, "There are going to be cameras today, so I'm not going to have you looking like a homeless person. And Revalie, is that dirt on your dress?"
"I'm not even eligible." Young Revalie whined, "Why do I have to be here?"
Her mother sniffed, "Because you are the mayor's daughters. Every movement, every action, every little piece of what you look like reflects on him. And I won't have him looking bad, do you understand? Now be the perfect little dolls I know you can be and make yourselves presentable."
When this had happened, Revalie hadn't thought very much about it at all. It had been a perfectly ordinary day for her. There were still days now when she got dressed for work where she could hear her mother's shrill voice commenting on every item of clothing. Calling on her to make herself the 'perfect little doll.' But now, she couldn't help but pay attention to Lyssa, who continued to wear the jacket until her mother forcibly pried it off of her.
It had already started.
How long had it happened, without Revalie noticing? Would anything have changed if she had?
Consus
"I don't think you're supposed to show up until later." Consus said.
Perhaps it was ridiculous to speak to a hallucination. But he was past the point of knowing how to escape. All he could feel was a faint breeze and the ground beneath his feet. As he spoke, he wasn't sure whether he truly said a word or if it was all just a thought in his head. There was no pain in his chest, no indication that he was running out of air. He felt almost like he was dreaming, the condition of his true body far away and irrelevant. The only way he could think to break through was to engage, test for weaknesses. Search for a crack of the real world that he could grab with both hands.
"And if there was anything of substance here, perhaps I would have waited my turn. But dear lord, there truly is nothing to you, is there? You've managed to make being abandoned at the steps of an orphanage boring."
The real Brutus would never say such a thing. He was a Capitolite, and occasionally prone to sensationalism. But his stylist was also kind, and had a knack for making him comfortable. This was just the form his brain formed to voice his insecurities. Nate had claimed that the picture in the cave had said terrible things to him. But Consus would never have been hurt by a double. He knew who he was, and he was secure in it.
"This isn't a show." Consus snapped, "This is my life. I can live it how I want."
"Living how you want led you to the bottom of a lake, darling. Perhaps it's time to try my way."
Revalie
Slap!
The blow was hard enough that Revalie still remembered it years later.
"How dare you?" Her mother shrieked, "After everything we did for you."
"I didn't do anything." Young Revalie said. It wasn't a lie, exactly. It was just an uncertainty. Even then, she couldn't quite remember the truth of the matter or what exactly had happened. The first thing she remembered was her uncle walking in, and even then, her memory was fuzzy and disjointed. But the trial said she was innocent, so she must have been innocent. Adults knew better, after all.
Well. They said they knew better. Even then, she knew that adults lied.
"Don't give me that. I know it was you. You might have all of Panem wrapped around your finger, but I raised you. There's something wicked about you girl. To be jealous of your own father. You have ruined everything. Absolutely everything. Get out. Get out! I won't have a rabid mutt living in my house!."
Revalie didn't know what to say. She had spent so long dreaming of being out of her parents' home, but not like this. It was barely a day since she'd been acquitted of murder, and all she wanted was some comfort. But of course, with her Mother, it was too much to ask for such a thing.
"Then I'm leaving too." Lyssa said, running over to Revalie, and holding her hand. She was wearing a simple black dress, but it only went down to her knees, with tank-top style straps. It was more skin than she had willingly shown in years.
"Fine then! You're demons, the both of you. The Satyr name is better off without you."
Her words still stung Revalie deep down, but with Lyssa's hand in hers, it didn't seem to matter as much.
Consus
Consus couldn't move. Not that he was entirely sure he'd want to if he could. He was suspended from the ceiling of the private sessions building, a deep scarlet wound running down his gut. Except instead of blood, streams of film spilled out. Brutus sat on the floor, examining the pictures within the film.
"There has to be something here." The image of Consus' mentor murmured, tugging on the film so that more poured out.
"Give that back!" Consus shouted, "It's not yours."
"But it is." Brutus answered, cutting pieces of film, and gluing other portions together. After several minutes of this, he threw a strand into the air.
The bits of film enlarged and contorted from the strand, becoming a flickering old screen that resembled the Hunger Games Projector in the middle of town square. Orchestral music swelled, as he watched saw his life play out on a screen.
Except while the scenes were familiar, Consus barely recognized the story at all.
A child left alone and abandoned.
Others in the care home avoiding him (they were nothing but welcoming.)
A vicious attack with a scythe (but it was an accident.)
Burying his loneliness and isolation with expectations and schedules (was that true?)
Becoming part of a large alliance. Finally, he had friends! Finally his lonely days were over.
Only to tragically die in a lake.
"See?" Brutus said, beaming, "I fixed it for you!"
Revalie
She was in the doorway to the kitchen.
Revalieeille didn't remember what happened there, but she knew she didn't want to know. There was a reason she had forgotten. That was one thing she knew for certain. She practically screamed at herself to leave things buried.
But her younger self walked through, heedless of her pleading. She had no idea didn't know her life was going to change at that moment.
For the worse? For the better?
She knew the answer, although she'd never admit it. But perhaps it was the reason why she was here. If she was dead… maybe this was another courtroom. Except this time her life was on display.
Perhaps it would be best to present all of the evidence this time.
She followed her younger self inside.
Consus
They were on a beach. Consus was trying to pick up pebbles, each of which contained a memory. If he could just find them all and put them back together, then maybe he could make things right. Maybe his existence would be more than the movie that still played above him. The film was skipping, like an old record player. It kept replaying the moment he was hit by the scythe. The blade was so very close to his eye. Consus had been lucky to get his arm up. But after seeing his flesh torn apart for the hundredth time, it didn't feel so lucky.
"Why do you struggle so hard, little one?" Brutus asked from his position on the lifeguard chair.
"Because this isn't how it happened." Consus said, "This isn't my life."
"Oh you poor thing, you still don't get it yet. Your life is whatever the Capitol says it is. Did you actually believe the only thing they owned was your labor? Your image, your past, your very thoughts. They're all ours. You are not a person. You are a commodity."
Consus grabbed one of the memory stones, but it crumbled into sand.
Brutus sniffed, "And an ungrateful commodity at that."
Revalie
Her father and Lyssa were already there, though neither seemed to notice her. Lyssa couldn't, as she was backed into a corner with her sightlines blocked. And her father? He was only looking at Lyssa.
"Remember to be quiet." Her father said, "You wouldn't want your sister to know about this, would you?"
She knew those words. They had been whispered to her so many times, and she'd obeyed them just as many. Revalie thought it was just her. That she was alone. And for her sister's sake, she had done as he asked.
But it had already started.
Revalie grabbed the kitchen knife.
Consus
There was an odd sort of blow. Slow, and not exactly a punch. Like someone slicing without a weapon. It hurt, but only a little. It was enough.
He was no longer on the beach., Consus was in the ocean. Water filled his lungs and it felt like he was being torn apart from the inside. Except he wasn't alone. There was a girl there. He knew he should recognize her, but he didn't.
Desperate, he reached out for her, hoping she could keep her from drowning.
Revalie
Her father grabbed her arm. That hadn't happened, had it? She supposed she couldn't know. But there was a wrongness to the action.
Then he spoke. The words were garbled, muffled. As if the man was speaking underwater.
"Please." he said, something her father would never say.
That's when she realized she wasn't dead.
She was still in the lake.
Consus
The girl cycled through countless forms. The women from the care home. Brutus. A corpse. But he didn't let go. Why, he wasn't sure, but he knew it was important.
"Still fighting so hard." Brutus' voice called out, mocking him, "And for what? A life that is yours? A return to normalcy? Illusions, little one. Lies to make you a better puppet."
Consus knew the voice was right. but
He held on anyway.
Revalie
She had never been a particularly strong swimmer.
Why would she need to be? For most of her life, she'd been the mayor's daughter. A perfect, poseable plaything for her father to use and discard.
But that was only most of her life. She was a butcher now. Literally and figuratively. Her arms were strong and her will was stronger. The boy in the lake clung to her and swam up
Up
Up
Until she broke through to the surface.