It bubbles like a hot, thick concoction made by a witch inside me. Whenever he passes by the voice inside me screams "ATTACK HIM!" I clutch at my knife and follow him with deadly eyes, but I stay calm, because I know the consequences.
Him. Of whom was my best friend. Of whom laughed with me. Of whom I trusted.
All of that vanquished like smoke in thin air. All in one day.
Because he killed my family. My life. My hope. And I managed to escape.
But I keep calm when he passes, because my life and everyone else's closer to me are on the line.
People say I'm crazy. Say I'm insane. Believe me, I wish that was true. I wish I could be healed, or set free with my family....
My name is Robyn. I watched my family die by the hands of the President's child, and I have been sent to the asylum.
The President sent his son here to District 7 as a game. An unspoken game, wordless and unknown.
No one knew that he was the President's son.
It was my little sister Arabelle who found him lingering on the edge of the forest. He looked like his minutes were numbered- he had sweat poring down his face, and large bloody gashes, everywhere- his legs, face, arms. I remember covering my mouth in shock when she dragged him back to our house, but all I noticed were his eyes. Green, but it looked like someone had took the time to wash and scrub the color until it was only a light tint of green. He was quite a fright, and I remember neighbors pointedly staring hard at the lumber they were chopping and not at... at what? This strange, bloody boy, who seemed to appear in thin air?
Our parents and our uncle who lived with us were away at work, so me and Arabelle pulled him on to a cot and bandaged him gently. He groaned often and breathed shallowly. Arabelle whispered words of comfort, which was like a medicine itself, slowly soothing this patient until he looked almost, well, angelic.
What was I thinking? The Devil, angelic?
He gripped my hand the whole time. I couldn't even reach the syringe that held the sleeping stuff cause his grip was so tight. Arabelle fetched it for me and I reached towards him to inject it in his arm, but his gaze caught me off-guard. I stared at him, and he stared at me, the syringe hovering over his arm.
"Who are you?" I whispered. I was curious.
"I am a person who has many troubles." He answered in a clear, stable voice. I was so shocked by this answer that I injected the syringe into his arm faster than I intended to do and pushed down. His grip loosened around me and I got up and ran away. And threw some axes at some trees.
Even then, the boy scared me. But then, I was oblivious to his flaws. Because I loved Finn.