The Reaper | F. Odair

Twenty-seven

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Aaron
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    How can such pretty looking eyes look so dull and lifeless? His hands are coated in cuts and bruises, some freshly bloody ones and some becoming scars. His perfect looking skin is no longer perfect looking, there are deep bags underneath his eyes, his neck and collarbone are bruised and cut as well. I can only wonder what's happened to him. Whatever happened, he deserved it.

Prim is shifting and talking besides me as I stare at him -- why isn't he looking at me? Why isn't he glaring at me like everybody else? My stomach churns as he glances up towards me just to look away almost immediately. Is he scared of me?
I can't even answer my own question because I've just noticed a boy across from Prim glaring at me. Next to him is Katniss, grinning to herself from Prim's talking. He looks similar to Katniss, dark hair and eyes, pale skin. I wonder if they're siblings. I drag my own gaze away from him and grab one of the grapes from my tray, it's oddly warm from how long it was probably sat out for. I toss it into my mouth and look at Finnick ahead of me, but I freeze as Prim nudges me.

I blink, "what?"

Prim rolls her eyes, "I said, did you ever have any pets growing up?"

I can't recall ever having a pet from my memory. My eyes drift towards Finnick again and he's now picking at some greens on his plate. "No." I mumble, "I never had the chance to have a pet as a kid."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

"Well, if you could, would you have a cat or a dog?" she then asks.

Katniss scoffs, "of course Aaron would have a dog."

A smile tugs at my lips, "not a cat person, Katniss?"

"They're horrible little creatures." Katniss says, I can hear the smile on her face as Prim scoffs.

My eyes drift down and I think back to when I was younger. I can't actually ever recall wanting a pet, I can only recall the corpses of animals I'd seen. Cats were a common thing to see, dead or alive since most kept them around to catch little critters. The few who did have things such as dogs didn't have them for a sort of luxury, they worked. There wasn't any point in having something that didn't work, animal or human.
I remember walking home one day as a child, when my sister was still here, she froze and pointed out a dead raccoon on the side of the road -- near the critter was a bloodied cat. Cats are tricky little things, aren't they? They're so tiny and so lovable looking, yet somehow they can get out of the worst sort of situations.

"Cat." I say, "I would have a cat if I could."

Katniss groans loudly and very sarcastically, Prim bursts out laughing and pointing at her older sister with this sort of 'I KNEW IT' look. The smile on my face grows, Finnick is even smiling now, but the guy between Katniss and him isn't smiling at all. Katniss notices this and I watch as she jams her elbow into his arm.

"Stop it." she hisses quietly, the boy shoots her a glare but finally quits.

I blink, "do you hate me too?"

Finnick and Katniss are now both glaring at the boy.

"No." he mumbles.

"What's with the sour face?" I push, "do you have a problem?"

He clears his throat, "I don't have a problem. But, I do see a problem."

"Gale--"

"What's your problem?" I spit.

"You're the damn problem--"

"Gale!" Katniss suddenly shouts -- we're both silent as people start to turn and look at us, "both of you, quit it," she spits, jamming her elbow into the 'Gale' guy again, "quit being an asshole."