Word Count: 2 916
NINETEEN:
When I woke up again I was in hysterics, gasping for air and ripping the hand rocking me awake off of me.
"Calm down, it's only me," a man I don't recognize says soothingly.
I lift myself onto my elbows; regarding the state my body is in.
"Who are you?" I ask hoarsely, wiping the sheen of sweat on my brow.
"Dytto," he begins, greeting me with kind eyes.
I take him in, appreciating his extravagant sense of style. He's by far the most interesting person I've looked at in a while. Between his baby blue hair and quite obviously surgically altered face it's hard not to be a little taken back. It's like every feature on his face was prepped, primed and sharpened to look a little too perfect to pass as natural.
"What are you doing here?" I ask reaching my hand over my left shoulder where a slight stinging plagues the general state of calm the rest of me is in.
"I need to get you ready for the ceremony and we need to hurry. We've lost valuable time here ... you've been passed out for four hours my love and I hate being rushed. You just can't rush art!" he goes on, eyes now wider than when he began, making his amber orbs glow.
"Art?"
"Yes art, who do you think makes all the poor dying kids pretty on their death day? People like me! That's your answer."
It dawns on me that there's still a world of pain and prepping ahead when I remember just how big a deal the Ring Ceremony is. I may not even make it to tomorrow if the makeover doesn't kill me first.
Not that tomorrow ever comes.
I find myself being pulled up in a flash as my mind swims to the other side of my head, "Come, come, the longer you just lay there the uglier you'll look," he chirps.
He leads the way, making sure I'm not too far behind him as we leave my sleeping quarters and I can't help being annoyed by how fast he's walking.
"Slow down," I gripe.
"Speed up! You don't want to be remembered as the worst dressed Pukka at the ceremony now do you? If you're going to die, do it in style."
'I don't like him,' Aspen chimes.
Me neither, I think.
As we walk (fly) memories of what I've just been through return to me.
Personally I think her tranquilizing me as well was a little unnecessary. The least Juniper could have done is let my mother hold me after all she put me through – all I put me through.
She strung me up and played me like a puppet, all to satisfy some twisted urge to prove that she and I are one and the same.
I wish I could be as sure of our differences as I was before I walked into that room, but now every time I close my eyes I see him crumple to the ground. I feel shreds of dread and potent regret as soon as my eyelids open, then I see my mother get dragged away from me when I close them again.
It was a dart gun.
For that I'm glad, but how do I live with the knowledge that I would've killed Ian within the last few hours of my life?
I would do anything for that 'mellow' medication right about now.
"Aww honey," Dytto says when he turns around abruptly, running his hands down the sides of my shoulders. "You look miserable; I would've stayed on the meds if I were you."
I want to pull myself out of his grip, but I resist the urge.
"Can you just tell me what we're doing?" I ask gently, pulling out my most sincere, fake smile.
He looks me up and down as he chews on the side of his cheek.
"Well, we need to find you an outfit, get all your tattoos, do your nails and dye your hair all before dinner."
I respond with a determined nod, holding back a sigh as I ready myself to do whatever is asked of me. The sooner I can get this over with, the faster I can find that hover boarding room.
"Are you ready?"
"Think so."
He regards me with a bright smile and in my mind all I can think of is how badly I want him to cut it out. I'm dying tomorrow and he's here smiling like the Cheshire Cat.
Man ... TV would be nice about now ... all those classics.
Dytto pulls me into a room and shoves me into a seat faster than I can even complain.
"Tell me, how do you feel about cold weather?"
That question wouldn't have scared me had his left eye not started twitching.
x x x
Dytto gave me a new face. Literally.
"So?" he asks, practically jumping up and down in his shoes.
"I've never looked this good in my life," I gasp, looking from my white, manicured nails, embellished with silver rocks to the mirror across from me.
I'm smiling so big I can see my cheeks and not, because I'm looking at my reflection. My gaze trails from my eyes where gold makeup is highlighted by false lashes and a sultry cat eye, making my normally innocent looking stare hang heavily with seduction. He's underlined my orbs with blue eyeliner, driving the extent of my beauty to a whole new league.
A silver hoop hangs in my nostrils, burning cool metal into my skin. My normally dark-brown hair is braided down into newly-dyed, snow-white locks, trapped in the most intricate fishtail, while loose hairs frame my face. The only thing that hints at my natural hair colour are the dark roots sprouting from my scalp. My hands are covered in tattoos that don't mean much except well ... marking me for death. I'm dressed in a cropped, dark-blue, elbow length, leathern shirt from the waist up.
The lower half of my frame is covered by blue, high-waisted shorts stopping a little higher than mid the path down my legs, with two aprons of leathern material hanging down my front and back. Two thin strips run down each side of my hips which would open up my bare skin if it weren't for the thin net-like material covering that area. My feet are clad in comfortable, blue, knee-high boots that seem to cradle my every step.
"I look like I'm going to war," I observe as I run my fingers along the gnarly looking blade strapped into a band by my thigh.
"Well yeah ... that's kind of the point. These looks, like all the other years are also supposed to be a tribute to our predecessors. This is inspired by how our people dressed in the beginning, especially when preparing for battle. What greater battle is there than death?" Dytto muses, taking a moment to be completely serious with me.
I look at him, trying to hide the sorrow in my eyes and instead attempt to show him the side of me that is half grateful for the sincerity of his words. I feel a bit silly for knowing so little about the ceremony, but my mother tried to shield me from it as much as she could. If there was a way she could have prevented me from thinking about it all together she would've.
"I'm sorry you have to go through this Suki. I do this every year and it doesn't seem to get any easier, at least not for me. Normally the others – the tributes, they're all happy and chirpy. They're hardly ever fully aware of what's to come, because of the medication you know. Each year, all I can really hope for is to put a smile on their faces when they look in that mirror," he says with half a smile.
"Is that so you can feel a little less guilty?"
The grin falls from his face and I curse myself for being so uptight. He's only trying to be nice.
"Can I take this off now?" I ask, not able to look him in the eye any longer as I pat myself down.
"Yeah sure, just please make sure to use that teeth whitener I gave you before bed."
x x x
I finally found the hover boarding room, although I feel as if I can hardly describe it as such. It looks so big you could fit a quarter of Valhalla in here. Tall trees sprout from the ground, birds croon, cry and lament and there's definitely earth beneath my feet, so I wonder if I've magically stepped outside, but I know better.
There's an array of hover boards lining the wall to my right and so I know that I must still be inside. I grab the nearest board, a gorgeous silver one so thin and sleek you can hardly see it when it's turned a certain direction.
I pull it off the rack, partially expecting some alarm to go off blaring "Intruder, thief, help, she's stealing," but no such thing happens.
Instead, the room remains obediently silent while the board patiently waits for its awakening. I brush a hand over it and it hovers. The low purr it produces causes me great joy as my heart pounds gloriously in triumph. Frankly, the excitement pumping through my veins is palpable. I can hardly breathe ... this is everything I ever wanted in a board and more.
A solyom – The Hawk.
I watch it floating there for a moment, looking back down at my hands and all the various markings on them. The flowy patterns and words inked into my skin all tell different stories about me and what I am. I hardly understand what most of it means, but from what I can discern, they're all blessings and prayers to 'go gently into the afterlife' (if there is one).
With my newly manicured hands stretched out in front of me it's impossible to miss the incredulity of what begins to happen next. My hands tremble against my best efforts to stop myself from doing so and fear nests in my frontal lobe as thick, luminescent, blue lines sprout from my nail beds.
These intrusive vein-like fixtures claw up my arms, burning a cool, iciness up my front and my back as the feeling continues to grow. My heart beat seems to be pumping a lot slower in my ears as if there's a miniature giant with its hands around my heart's left atrium.
I stumble backwards, tripping over a tree root and fall into a small puddle of water. A breath is crushed out of me by the impact, but I'm shocked to say that I can actually see it, like when it's cold and warm breath mixes with cold air. I turn myself over, pulling myself from the water soaked ground only to find that the puddle has been frozen solid.
"What the," I gasp, staring intently at my finger-tips where a thin, white mist seems to be leaking from my nails.
"What is ... what? W-what is this?" I babble, my voice almost cracking as if I'm in tears.
"Aspen! What's happening to me?"
'S-qsorry Suki. I've never actually seen this before. Your genes, they've mutated. Your internal temperature is far below the norm... you should be going into hyperthermia right about now, but I believe what you're experiencing is power-shock.'
Almost as quickly as it all began my heart rate begins to lift again, painstakingly returning to what it should be just as the venous apparitions all over my body dissolve.
"This can't be happening, I don't have powers. I'm going to die tomorrow because of it," I mutter lowly, lifting myself up onto my feet.
I'm on the board in a flash, no longer keen on wasting time just staring at it. I've been craving the freedom of a good, long ride. One that pushes me to my limits as I weave through countless nooks and crannies and has my thighs burning from the strain of trying to keep something this powerful under control.
Wind blows across my face, dipping me in a puddle of acceptance and content. I look down to the side, seeing the tree tops blurring beneath me.
Is there a Watcher really watching me here? At this very moment?
I rush forward, willing my board to engage in an almost vertical climb before completing one loop-dee-loop and then another. With my hair pushed back by the wind and my lungs freshened I find all timidness in my mind has melted into nothingness. I allow myself to do something stupid. I scream ... loud.
I let my throat burn with the passion behind the word, "Ahhhhhh!"
And then I'm laughing at myself. Can you blame me? Girls my age worry about almost-kisses. Here I am worrying about almost dying (well, unfortunately that part is inevitable now).
The wild life yells back at me in its various voices. I scream again and again and I prepare to do it once more when I receive a different response.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
It's deeper, richer both in tone and volume. I find myself stopping mid-air, looking around to see where the source is and I wouldn't have found it if wasn't for the sharp, V-shaped line of birds flying away from it.
'It's Kai, his GPS is on. He's around here somewhere,' Aspen notes.
<Is that you?
I find myself beaming him.
Depends on who's asking>>
<You know it's me. Suki.
Sorry, I don't know anyone by that name>>
<Really?
No. I'm kidding>>
<I knew that.
Really?>>
<No. I'm kidding.
Meet me?>>
Please ...
It takes me a while to respond to him, twenty seconds maybe, but with my fingers held against my temple patiently and my heart in my throat I decide against not replying at all.
<Okay.
:))>>
I crouch my legs in order to gain more control as I lower myself to the floor within a clearing in the forest. When I touch down I find Kai sat relatively high up on one of the tree branches with his feet dangling over the edge like a little boy.
"Hi," I peep.
"Hey," he chirps a little too happily.
Right ... medication.
"You beamed?"
"Uh yeah," he begins. "I'm sorry," he says, looking down at his hands as if saying those words is still a little difficult regardless of the serum flowing through him.
There aren't any tattoos on his hands like I have, but the same can't be said for the area by his neck and shoulder which is plagued by similar markings to my own.
"For?"
"How I acted the other day. I never should've spoken to you like that. I didn't actually expect to see you ever again, not here especially," he begins finally looking back at me.
Artificial sunlight slices into his eyes, reflecting the waves of blue in his gaze a few shades lighter, but I can't help noticing how they seem to have been held back. I struggle to accept the fact that he's actually here in the flesh, trying to apologize to me for his honesty.
"There's no need. You were only saying what you really meant, what you felt."
He tilts his head to the side as if accepting this statement.
"Also for my mother, I heard about what she did to you. She can be a little-"
"Cruel, evil, horrendous?" I offer.
"I was going to say edgy."
I raise my brows.
"She means well-"
"She means well?" I repeat, unable to believe this. "Apart from making me think I killed someone I care a lot about, she's letting you die without even trying. She puts thousands of other people and their children over her own family and all you can say about her is 'she means well?'" I put to him almost letting a scoff slip passed me.
"Is that so bad?" he asks tilting his head to the side.
I'm just about ready to challenge him on that, but the expression on his face is so innocent and confused I could easily make the connection between him and a baby trying to fit a square block in a triangular hole. I feel bad.
"It is if she'd kill one of her kids to do so."
"My mother would never do that," he almost barks, but his frustration quickly dissipates.
"If that were true, then you should've grown up with an older sister, that's a whole new person she robbed you of," I explain, my voice low and relatively steady.
"You don't know anything about us; you're in no position to judge her for anything you think she may have done. If there's one thing you need to understand about Juniper Dassin, it's that she cares a lot. Maybe even too much."
His tone is calm, but his eyes almost zigzag in his face, shivering like it hurts to stay still. For a moment I'm clueless about what I could possibly say to him. Then he throws his board out into the air from the tree and jumps onto its surfaces as if there are magnets under his feet.
He's gone ... again.
<Kai ... I didn't mean to upset you.
X X X
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