self para / i didnāt have it in myself to go with grace
There was water in the cup on the nightstand. To be evaporated. She was pretending to sleep. The sun was weakly touching her pillow. Summer had never been hotter. There was no problem in the world, all quiet. The Tower was focused on the Games, and Venine couldnāt even stretch out her arm to turn on the television. The problem wasnāt with the world. The problem was in her, and she could feel her blood boiling at this point. Was it the sun just torturing her? Has it caught up with the fact that she was the only unnatural thing in the world that breathed?
Needing to step away, she moved from the pillow, leaving behind a pile of lost hair strands. She didnāt care to pick them up right then. Not right at that moment. Instead, she moved away from the sun into the armchair. It was almost like she couldnāt stand. Her body was rotting around her as she was just now starting, with a soul so young it didnāt even fully well know how to speak.
The water was too far, on the nightstand. Even though she hadnāt left her room ever since the Hunger Games launched, at this point, she knew it was time to. If she died there, no one would find her until days after. Glancing at Pumpkin, coiled on the floor as if to keep her company, she figured she shouldnāt do that to the raccoon. What if, having no alternative food resources, it would eat from her? The thought sent a shiver down her spine. Venine wasnāt going to die in the storage closet she had lived her life in.
(If she died, what would even become of her soul? If there were a divinity, would it be willing to adopt? She was made by man, and man had no power on the other side. Would she be all alone, in an eternal void? The recurrent thought gave her power to keep going. She couldnāt afford to die and dive into such lonely uncertainty.)
She stood up, shaky, and opened the door. She had to warn everybody. She had to ask for help. She couldnāt just wait for death to find her lying down, weak and defenseless. A reassuring wave of air brushed through what remained of her hair when she opened the door. For a moment, she didnāt feel like a corpse. Instead, she breathed in and cracked the door open widely for Pumpkin to leave and accompany her. The animal obliged, excited to breathe in some fresh air. It went ahead as Venine breathed in, too, one more time. Maybe fresh air was all the cure she needed. Maybe the forests of District Seven were the answer to everything, after all. But she had to request all that now, before withering for good in this shadow of a Tower.
Following Pumpkinās lead, every step ached. Her newly found energy evaporated. She used her hand against the wall to keep going, but her knees felt like gum. The thought threw her back to the smell of strawberry the first time she chewed gum with her own teeth, instead of in Andromacheās memories. It was all so easy when she was learning everything for the first time.Ā
Even though Gamemaker Vickers had better and more urgent concerns, Venine had to get to her. That woman was the only one who could make it pass. No more needles, just a signature of release. If Venine could move fast enough, she would be in the night train by midnight, departing to Seven. It was a solid plan. She could almost smell the pines. That simulation alone gave her all the strength she needed. There wasnāt much left to do: only to get to her.Ā
Miraculously, she got to the immaculate white elevator. Looking back, Pumpkin was nowhere to be found. She panicked for a moment, but then, a stable, powerful peace spread like a blanket over her heart. Pumpkin was going to be fine. Suddenly, the certainty that everything was going to be fine overwhelmed her warmly. Pumpkin knew the Tower well. They would find each other soon, after Venine had her conversation with the Gamemakers. They would travel together to District Seven. Maybe she could take Addy with her, somehow. Maybe they would be able to fool everybody and make a grand escape. Venine wanted to believe in nothing but that.
The elevator doors opened, like asking for an embrace. Venine walked in fearlessly, quick to press the familiar button. Looking in the mirror behind her, she smiled at the sight of Andy. She missed her, like a sister that was also more herself than she was. Tears rolled, small, warm balls of water, over her cheeks. She truly missed Andromache. And she was about to visit her, in District Seven. That alone gave her inexplicable power to move further. A slight smell of whiskey, like the otherās breath, flooded her nostrils. She was almost home by now, whatever foreign place that was.
Going down seemed to be taking forever, and her knees were so weak. Before she knew it, she slid down, curling her body on the elevator floor, hugging her feet and leaning her head against the cold surface of the moving box. It felt better. She was just getting there. Soon, nothing would hurt. It would all be nothing but tall trees, ice-cold lakes she would dive in anyway, virgin sunrises, that she would be the only person in the world awake to witness. Soon, she would no longer crave for fresh air for days at once. Before she knew it, her eyes were closed. Oh, she was so tired.Ā
Before she knew it, Venine blew her last, gentle breath. Nothing was going to hurt anymore.
andulkaphoto
discoholicmusic
blakekathryn
dailybridgerton
kianamaiart
snowghoul
stormborns
