A Circus of Eagles [An HG Fanfic]

Fire - Romily

Romily

I wake up with the first light, as always. My back muscles and my legs ache and one of my arms has gone numb because I turned over in the night and slept on it, but otherwise I'm feeling surprisingly good. Not as good as I did in the Parade, but certainly better than I was expecting. These are the first new clothes I've had in ages and they fit perfectly and are built to last. The sheer number of layers makes going to the bathroom difficult, but with the knowledge that there's cameras everywhere that's the least of my worries. I know from experience that unless a tribute is attacked whilst doing their business - and there's an idea - that they don't show it. It's still gut-wrenchingly awkward. The first couple of times I couldn't go at all. Then it was that or my bladder was going to burst. At least it was dark then.

I prop myself up against the tombstone and massage some feeling back into my arm. Riona used to be good at massages and when I was very little I'd perch on the edge of the couch as she massaged Mom's neck and try to copy her, the circular shapes she was tracing on Mom's ropey skin, the dexterous rolling motion of the thumbs. One night she caught me.

"Rom, what in Snow's name are you doing?"

"I'm massaging the couch," I said, not wanting her to know that I was copying her.

"Girls!" Mom always referred to us as 'girls', as if we were one big lump instead of two separate entities three years apart who just happened to look similar. "I'm supposed to be relaxing!"

I stuck my tongue out at Riona, but I slid down to sit properly on the couch and I never copied her massaging again. She was good, or at least Mom said so. Sometimes she would talk about getting out of Haematite and going to become a masseuse in one of the central sectors, and then she'd get angry because we both knew it was impossible. Strange how I only just remember that.

Most of my old memories of Ri are wiped out, burned into ashes by the flames that tore up our house and killed Mom and the old woman living next door and the Avox who went in to save her. They've been taken over by my last few memories of her; a face on the other side of cell bars, like my own but prettier, and my hand reaching through the bars for hers, and her staring at it and turning away and saying "It's a bit late for that, Rom." I was seven. She was ten. I haven't seen her since.

For a long time I thought she'd come and find me when she got out. It was an accident, that's what we both said, and the Peacekeepers and the court decided that as Riona was of the age of responsibility and I wasn't then it was her who should be punished. Even though it was me who dropped the match. Though I wouldn't have done it if I hadn't been trying to stop her pulling my hair. They gave her a shorter sentence because of 'negligent circumstances' i.e. Mom being too drunk to do anything apart from scream. So I waited a year for her to come out and I thought she'd come and find me, and after six months I gave up hoping.

I wonder if she wishes she'd come to find me now. The sister she'll be seeing on screen - if she can see a screen - will be a stranger to her just like she is a blank face to me. I imagine her looking similar to me only older and prettier, because she was always prettier. She had Dad's heart-shaped face and dimples whereas I'd ended up with the features of a squashed rodent and a squint.

She could be dead. She could have died when Haematite was stormed by the rebels and we'd all hidden in the Silence Halls, knowing they wouldn't touch the Avox building, and she wasn't there, not that I looked for her. But somehow I'm sure she didn't. Ri must be still alive.

Once my inexpert massaging has brought feeling back into my arm, I risk standing up and twisting out the aches in my legs and back. I'm one of the smallest of the tributes and while the tombstones are shoulder height on most people, I only have to bend my knees a little to be completely hidden. Not that there's anything to hide from. I squint at the area around me quickly but there's no sign of anybody else. There's just scattered tombstones stretching as far as the eye can see.