#10 - TV

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"No!"

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"No!"

You woke up, a cold sweat forming on your forehead. Another nightmare. That same scene. The Reaping was an overwhelming thought of yours, but to relive that day again in your dreams felt like a punishment.

The thoughts persisted. Slowly, they'd eat at you and leave you in a constant state of distress. Sleep had once again escaped your grasp and all the days seemed to merge into each other. You felt as if you were descending into madness as you tried to adjust your life around his absence.

Searching worriedly for his hat, you cradle the piece of him he had left in your chest. It had been a week since he had disappeared on that train, to be tested by the Capitol. One question protruded your sea of thoughts: was he even still alive? If he wasn't, had you been missing the ghost of him for the past few days?

You wanted to know. You wanted to know everything about him. His flaws, how the Capitol was treating him, what he's been eating. Just one sign to let you know he was okay.

By the first week, half of the tributes were dead. Or you assumed so. After the war, the basic communications and necessities of the districts had almost been cut off completely. You just hoped that Treech wasn't part of those who died. He can't be.

He had permanently engraved a space for himself within the caverns of your heart, and here you were desperately trying to fill up that empty crater he had left.

As the sun peeked through your window, you were tempted to sink back into your sheets and be eventually be forgotten by the world. Streams of light invaded the room, signifying the start of the day. It was still quite early, and you gave in and decided to escape the suffocating walls of your room. No one was awake yet, so would it have been too much to ask for a few moments of solace? To wish for an escape from your monotonous routine?

A short walk is what you promised yourself. A secret getaway, even if it was temporary. That's all you needed is what you told yourself. Exiting your house with his hat on your head, you let your legs wander.

The trees of the district reached towards the sky. You marvelled as sunlight poured in from the heavens, delicately bathing you in it. Without the multitude of Peacekeepers and lumberjacks, the area could have been considered a sanctuary. Birdsong echoed throughout the patch of land and soon you find yourself down at the river.

In silence, you follow the path of the water flowing. You had nowhere to be at the moment and no one was awake, leaving you free to aimlessly wander.

Somewhere along the way, a primrose sprouts from the earth. It was a small bud, but it was determined to grow. You ponder shortly, wondering whether to pluck it for whatever reason or leave it be to blossom. You reminisced how Treech had always shown up to the workshop with a primrose, just for you.

And for you only.

You didn't notice at first, but drops of water spilled out onto the ground, some landing on the flower. Realising they were your tears, you wiped them away hurriedly only for more to escape your eyes. Sinking down to the floor, you let the sound of the river muffle the inconvenience of your tears. You relented. Primroses were meant to inspire hope, but what was there to hope for when it seemed as if the world turned against you? To pretend everything was fine, even after the Reaping, was a lie. A well constructed lie that almost made you believe you could continue your life as if Treech hadn't entered it at all. It was selfish, you knew this. But if things were going to end this way, perhaps it would have been better for both of you if he had never stepped into the workshop.

DISTRICT 7 SWEETHEARTS ; TREECH!Место, где живут истории. Откройте их для себя