02, caged up.

2.7K 54 8
                                    

DRESS
( hey, leave her alone! )
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

THAT NIGHT, CHARLOTTE couldn't sleep. Not even a wink. She laid depressingly on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Her brain was running a hundred miles an hour as she struggled to organize and clear her thoughts. Every time she tried, more thoughts entered her mind. Her brain started to become foggy, the sides staring to pound at her skull. She squeezed her eyes, hoping to get rid of the pain, but it didn't stop.

Eventually, she sat up, her head in between her knees as her hands clutched her head. The pain started to get unbearable and she could feel tears prickling at the sides of her eyes. She got herself out of bed and stumbled her way to her parent's room. At this point, her head started to get dizzy, her knees were weak and her eyesight was a blur. Without even bothering to knock, she opened the door to the master bedroom.

"Mom. . ." she whispered, lowering herself to the floor as her knees gave out.

"Charlotte!" she exclaimed. Rushing over towards her daughter, she held her up, allowing Charlotte to put her weight on her. She brought her daughter back to her room and tucked her in bed before slipping out to get a painkiller and some water.

She hurried back only to find her daughter no longer lying down, but crouching up with her head in her hands. Brielle gave her the water and the pill, helping her daughter down the pill by pushing her head back.

"Oh baby. What happened?" she asked, as she lightly brushed the hair away from Charlottes face.

"I don't know. Everything just seems to hurt. Everything from today seems hazy as well, like I was in a nightmare."

"Did you eat today?" Brielle questioned, looking at her girls malnourished face. Her face was pale, as white as a ghost and her body shook with anxiety.

"I don't — I don't know. Maybe a drink? I couldn't eat. Not after the Reaping." she explained, finding herself unable to trace back her steps clearly.

"Well, I assumed so. The chef had left so, I'll make some soup for you. How's chicken noodle soup sound?"

"No, no. I'm not hungry."

"Charlotte, you have to eat." her mother insisted, getting off the bed.

"But people in District 8 don't." she mumbled. This seemed to stop her mother as she sat back down.

"What are you talking about?"

"I got a girl. From 8." Charlotte started, this was the one memory she could recall. The one memory that kept her up. "She's what? 8? 9? I don't know. She's so small, mom. Malnourished, pale, fragile. And forced to fight for her life? She's not going to survive. I just — I keep getting these horrid scenarios in my head. I can't — I don't know what to do."

Brielle looked at her daughter with sympathy. She sighed, and took a look around her daughter's room. This was the first time in awhile she realized how lucky they truly were.

"There really is only one thing you can do, my girl. You have to care for her. Make sure she knows someone out here actually cares and believes in her. It's what I would've wanted, anyway." her mother smiled.

Charlotte only nodded. "But how could I do that?"

"You're smart, my girl. You'll figure it out. Just imagine that was you in that arena. How would you want your mentor to act?"

The room somehow managed to get softer as the two Vanderbilt girls sat in silence. Charlotte stared ahead, now knowing exactly what to do. She'd always wanted to be an older sister, after all.
























































DRESS, coriolanus snowWhere stories live. Discover now