( 𝒉𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒚'𝒔𝒇𝒂𝒖𝒍𝒕𝒔 ). thirteen.『 a shift in the air 』
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𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓. Everything was different. But some how, Indie felt more numb to the world than usual. Perhaps it was from lack of sleep. Or lack of eating, although the Capitol provided her with enough food to last her a life time — that would last her a life time. But she couldn't bring herself to eat the food they had provided. It felt. . . wrong. Everything felt wrong.
She had no idea how long she had been sitting, knees pulled up to her chest at the end of the train, her arms wrapped around her legs, as her chin rested on her knees, staring out the window of the train as she watched trees pass by. It was much different than the journey to the Capitol, despite nothing being different at the same time. She still couldn't sleep anymore, for the faces of the people she'd killed plagued her dreams, making her scared to even close her eyes when on the back of her eyelids the eyes of the girls and boys she'd killed to survive seemed imprinted on the back of them. It made her stomach sick with the thoughts, guilt bubbling in her stomach every time she remembered.
The bags under her eyes were clearer now, more prominent against her tanner skin. Scars littered her skin, as reminders, what the Capitol couldn't fix about her apparel related marking her forever. She still walked with a limp, which had been due to an infection that was too late to stop, and every now and then she would feel her knee begin to throb. The bite mark on her shoulder from the girl from twelve had almost disappeared, the scar still remaining. And although she was clean, her hair no longer matted after a nice long shower and a lot of work from the stylists, she couldn't get rid of the feeling that dirt and blood still covered her. Couldn't forget the feeling of the mud underneath her nails, and maybe it would eventually disappear, but it didn't seem anytime soon that it would.
When she had ridden the exact same train to the Capitol, she had been scared. She had gone over dozens of ways to survive, and now. . . now she wondered why? She still felt terrible, exhausted, hungry, and yet, she did nothing to improve herself. The only thing different about herself, was that on the way to the Capitol she had been wearing a simple dress, and was no doubt very unclean. Now she was wearing a short light pink and navy blue dress, with pink flowers sitting the top. It came up to about her knees, and she was having a hard time sulking and being modest.
But no matter how beautiful it was, she hated it.
It was the dress she had been crowned as a victor in. A reminder that she had killed people to get to this spot. And she hated the crown that sat on her head. It took all of her will not to throw it across the room, and by this time she had almost forgotten about it, if it wasn't for the fact that it was heavy. The thought lingered in her mind.
