This is a girl, Clove must admit, who understands. They come from vastly different worlds, even if it's in the same world. Yet they understand, at least, about the Games. People here... they disapprove. She's yet to meet anyone who didn't express immediate disapproval. But they don't understand. Even if she and District Twelve saw the Game differently then... they lived it. They felt it.
And then the Malnosso made them friends. Close friends. Friends who had no secrets. She hadn't even had a friend like that in the Academy. Some of that lingers, and Clove knows it. Just like she can see the face of the daughter who never existed if she closes her eyes. A beautiful, healthy baby girl...
Her voice is very quiet when she speaks, distant yet... reaching, in its own way. Reaching out. Not for comfort. But to someone who understands.]
They left proof. Of their hijacking.
[It's something a friend would do. Show this. They aren't friends, but she wants Twelve to see it. Maybe to prove to herself that it's real, not just a figment of her imagination.
She picks up the framed "family portrait" the Malnosso left her with, the young married couple and their newborn daughter, and offers it to the girl beside her. Because Clove needs to know that this picture really exists.]
no subject
But it does.
This is a girl, Clove must admit, who understands. They come from vastly different worlds, even if it's in the same world. Yet they understand, at least, about the Games. People here... they disapprove. She's yet to meet anyone who didn't express immediate disapproval. But they don't understand. Even if she and District Twelve saw the Game differently then... they lived it. They felt it.
And then the Malnosso made them friends. Close friends. Friends who had no secrets. She hadn't even had a friend like that in the Academy. Some of that lingers, and Clove knows it. Just like she can see the face of the daughter who never existed if she closes her eyes. A beautiful, healthy baby girl...
Her voice is very quiet when she speaks, distant yet... reaching, in its own way. Reaching out. Not for comfort. But to someone who understands.]
They left proof. Of their hijacking.
[It's something a friend would do. Show this. They aren't friends, but she wants Twelve to see it. Maybe to prove to herself that it's real, not just a figment of her imagination.
She picks up the framed "family portrait" the Malnosso left her with, the young married couple and their newborn daughter, and offers it to the girl beside her. Because Clove needs to know that this picture really exists.]