It's the things we love most, that destroy us

Chapter 12

When I reach my bedroom door, I close my eyes and try to calm myself down, the ballistic feeling still lingers ; twitching on my finger tips, flowing through my every breath, infecting my blood. Whenever I walk into this particular hallway, there is always a feeling of being followed that accompanies it - my body turns around and indiscreetly looks throughout the tight space, in an effort to catch the secret camera, that's causing these strange feelings, in action. There's none. But my eyes do catch something hanging from the ceiling ; my eyebrows burrow in confusion as I step on the very top of my tip toes and try to touch the floating object with timid fingers. When I do eventually touch it with my finger, I discover that said floating object is a metal circle attached to the ceiling by a rusty chain ; weird. My vigilant eyes wander behind me, making sure no one's watching and I firmly yank on the cold, slippery metal ring - my hands clasp over my mouth to stifle my sudden gasp as a wooden door swings open from the ceiling, which was green with mould and absorbed in shimmering, delicate cobwebs. Clear evidence, that the hatch has been devoid of a humans' kind touch for some time - decades even. Soon after, a junky ladder flows from the opening, allowing me access to above - slowly my hands reach for the sides of the ladder, afraid it may collapse under my sudden weight. Fearfully, I begin to climb.

As I reach the top, a slight breeze tingles at my face and my lungs greedily absorb the pure air, grateful to be freed from the restricted captivity of The Tribute Centre ; I finally feel I can breathe properly again when I complete the last of the ladder and carefully pull the door back into its hidden placement. The wind is more intense now as I stand tall - blowing a strong force against my body, my heart excitedly races as my eyes saunter around the open area - surrounding the edges of the building is a glass balcony, its once clear material now fogged up due to the decreasing temperature that hits when the gleaming moon rises in our shadowy sky of the night. This must be the roof of the Centre but why keep it a secret ? ; to prevent suicides perhaps but even then the Capitol had probably already thought about that, surely. Just in the nick of time, in the horizon I catch the marigold sun fading into the oblivion of the night, I can't miss this - my feet race against the tarmac of the roof in a desperate attempt to beat the sunset, my body crashes into the balcony and to get a closer look I step up onto the bottom ledge of the glass - 3/4 of my body is now hanging freely off the building. But I'm not scared, far from it actually ; I hold my locket close to my heart as the sun fades along with my anger from earlier. I wonder if my parents are watching this with me, knowing they will never touch me again, never hear my voice sing, never feel my footsteps shake the house in the early hours of the morning, never see my guitar strings strung another chord - all of that disappeared along with me the second I got reaped. Sometimes I wish they never made an effort with me so it would make me leaving them in this world more easier.

"I wouldn't do that if were you" a voice comes from behind me, I jump in shock unable to differentiate between reality and imagination, did I really hear that or is all the worry finally getting to my brain ? I stuff my necklace protectively back under my shirt and peer around the space, my eyes strained against the shifting shadows, "Do what ?" I call out into the darkness. My clutch on the balcony tightens as I discover my only answer was the wind, swirling and falling like a single feather floating in the air. "Jump off." the peculiar voice, which sounds like a boys', answers my question, my eyes widen "There's a force field surrounding the centre and roof for that reason specifically. You can't escape, even if you tried to jump off you would just be bounced back". I look around me trying to see this imaginary force field, "You won't see it now, especially not in the darkness" the voice already answers the question in my brain ; they're hiding somewhere, watching me from within the shadows. I allow my strong grasp to fall from the balcony and I begin to consciously walk deeper into the more gloomy areas of the roof, "Come out" I tell the boy with a serious edge to my voice.