Terra Cruze (terraza) wrote in colosseum, @ 2014-01-22 16:30:00 |
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I pick at my fingernails so much that by the time the tributes are in the arena and the prep teams have a spare second to attend to me they want to cry over the state of my hands. I never really think about it until they start to yell at me but they always manage to file my nails down and make them look nice anyway. Perfectly manicured, smooth, without a flaw on them. Like the rest of my body, erased of all marks on my skin. Erased of all memories. I still have my replacement knee, but even that isn't really visible to anyone else. It's my reminder, a reminder that the only memories I'm allowed to keep on my body is the one from the arena they gave to me. That it's the arena that's the most important part about me, that makes me special and important. Even in my relative invisibility among victors, in this way they still occasionally remind me of my worth. But I still have my ripped nails right now. It's training week so the tributes are most important, pampering them until they are forced into the arena where looks won't matter and the Capitolites delight in the "rugged" looks of their misfortune. Starvation and pain is only a fashion statement to them, after all, not anything real. Then they'll remember me again and erase all the memories of the last year found on my skin. There aren't as many this time, just calloused hands and burn marks from my metalworking. They used to have to spend hours on my arms but I'm still doing okay right now. I got used to my blank skin after a while. There's a lot people can get used to having taken away from them. Besides, it's the scars on the inside that I feel most, and they can't take those away from me. I can't even take those away from me, no matter how hard I've tried. Hell, I'm still trying, even if it's not in the same way. In my conversations with the tributes, I can see their anger at me for not caring even though I'm not mentoring. They don't see that it's all I can do. All they see is the flawless outside, the little scars that keep coming back soon to be once again erased, a reminder that my pain is only ever at the Capitol's pleasure. |