literature

HC OCT Audition, Chapter Two

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The soft couches were nothing like Griff had ever felt before. He stared at the ground, lost in his thoughts, absentmindedly stroking the fabric of the one he was sitting on. It was corduroy, he thought, but he couldn't say for sure. He'd never had easy access to the stuff, and even when he did, it was his mom that dealt with it. Fabric had never been a big deal at all, until now. Now, the expensive materials that surrounded him signified that he was officially a part of the Capitol. Not for long, though. He was going to die.
He bit down roughly on his lip, closing his eyes tightly. He was going to die. This was a fact he was certain of now. His mind ran through every possible way he could win, and he couldn't even scratch the surface of a good plan. He could run, but what good would that do him? His lungs had been failing him since his birth, and there's no way he'd be able to make it without having an asthma attack. Fighting didn't even cross his mind. Griff had always been a hardcore pacifist, and the poor guy couldn't even hurt a fly. For once, his kind nature seemed like a detriment. And with a bitter laugh, he realized it was. His soft heart was going to result in his imminent demise.
Suddenly, he heard the turn of a doorknob. Clenching his teeth and wiping the few tears that had pooled in his eyesockets away, he looked up to see who had entered the room. With her lips pressed together tightly in concern, his mother walked in, holding a silent Belatris by the hand. Although their eyes weren't visibly wet, it was obvious they had been crying. Griff stared at them in silence for a moment before letting out a deep sigh, only to begin coughing roughly immediately after. His mother murmured a few words of concern that Griff didn't catch before running to sit next to him on the couch. Belatris joined them. No one had the heart to speak for a while, but finally, Griff got up the courage.
"Where's dad?" It was the strangest thing for him to say at that moment, and yet it had spilled out. Fione blinked.
"He said he wanted to speak to you alone..."
This took Griff by surprise and he raised his eyebrows, "Oh..."
Another silence overtook the room. Finally, Belatris lifted her wavering voice and spoke.
"Griff, you're going to try to win, aren't you?" she asked him plaintively, and Griff laughed softly, ruffling her hair again, but this time, he didn't smile.
"Of course, stupid," he teased, hoping to lighten the mood at least the slightest bit, "I'm not just going to give up without a fight..." But Belatris's head was buried in Griff's sleeve, so she didn't see the glance he gave Fione. He knew that he was lying through his teeth, and Fione did too, but Belatris didn't need to have that sort of resignation. She needed hope, she was only eleven. But with a sigh, Griff realized that he needed to tell Belatris one last thing before time ran out.
"But Bela, listen to me..." Griff started, lifting her head off his shoulder so she looked him in the eyes. His expression was stern, but not angry, and her complexion was long. How was he supposed to say this to her? He wanted her to have hope, and yet, he knew better than anyone that she needed to hear this. "If, and only if, I don't come back from this thing, promise me that you..." he paused, taking what was supposed to be a deep breath, but it got caught in his throat, "You'll take the tesserae. For you, mom, and dad."
Fione gasped, and Belatris only stared, mouth open slightly, wavering on the brink of tears.
"But Griff!" she cried, eyes wide, "You said I'd never have to, didn't you?? You said that no matter what!"
Griff clenched his teeth. He hated seeing her this panicked, and it was true. He had promised her that no matter what happened, he would take care of her, and that she wouldn't have to do anything. But he didn't know for sure if Fione and Ralfus could handle surviving on their own unless the poor girl entered her name more times. It was destroying him inside, but he knew she needed to do it. He took her firmly by the shoulder, looking her solemnly in the eye.
"Bela, stop freaking out..." he spoke sternly, keeping eye contact, "Just... do what I said, okay? But I'll try to win, alright?"
Belatris only had the energy to nod before she broke into sobs. A guard opened the door a crack, "Time's up."
Griff and his family slowly stood, and Fione seemed reluctant to let go of his hand as she walked away from the couch. She looked desperately back at Griff, and he only mouthed the words, "Just go..." Fione nodded quietly, and with that, his crying sister and grievous mother walked out the door. Griff unintentionally let out a soft squeaking noise. That might have been the last time he ever saw them. And he was almost certain it was.
After a few moments of Griff just standing there, the door opened again. Ralfus Alden walked in the door and closed it, standing and regarding his son in silence for what seemed like forever before anything happened. Unlike with his mother, this silence felt unbearable to Griff. It seemed like his father was simply judging him, rather than pitying him. Finally, Ralfus spoke, shoving his burly hands in his pockets.
"You better fight, son..." he muttered gruffly, avoiding all eye-contact with Griff and not even bothering to greet him. Griff paused for a moment before responding.
"You know I won't do that..." Griff's tone was icier than he had expected it to be. Ralfus let out a groan and Griff sighed. Being the pacifist, vegitarian son of a butcher was probably the hardest thing to be, and Griff sometimes felt like he would never be able to win his father's full respect.
"That's bullshit," Ralfus told him bluntly, "I'm not just going to sit around and watch you let yourself get slaughtered. Not only would I be the laughing stock of all of Panem, but your mother and sister would be wrecks."
Griff could do nothing but stare at his father in shock and disbelief. He was confounded by how all Ralfus seemed to truly care about was himself. Something stopped him from trying to calm himself down. He was done with staying collected, at least around his father, and he clenched his fist.
"Why do you care if I die?!" Griff tested, almost loudly enough to be yelling, but he still didn't have the guts to full-out scream at his father, "All you ever do is kill things! Why does one more dead thing on your doorstep matter? You know what? It wouldn't even shock me if when they deliver my corpse to you, if I'm lucky enough to have one left, you'll just wrap it up and sell it as food!"
Ralfus was absolutely dumbfounded. He'd never heard his son so angry, and that last sentence had truly struck a nerve. Was that really how his own son regarded him? After the initial shock wore off, Ralfus sighed in resignation.
"Because I care about you, boy..." he mumbled, "And I don't know what our family'd do without you."
Griff somehow couldn't believe it, and he crossed his arms and sighed. He shook his head repeatedly to try and clear his head of the anger. He didn't like being angry. It made him feel uncomfortable. That's when Ralfus pulled something out of his pocket and clasped it in his fist. Walking up to Griff, he grabbed his son's hand and placed the object in his palm.
"Take this, Griff..." Ralfus told him, finally daring to look his frazzled son in the eye, "Use it as your token, in the arena. Whether you die or not, I want you to know that I've never hated you. Not even for a second. And boy..."
He paused and his breath audibly hitched.
"Just come back."
Without another word, Ralfus patted his son heartily on the shoulder, turning around and exiting out the door before time was even up. Griff looked down at the object in his palm and regarded it dazedly. The entire situation with his father had him completely frazzled, and he didn't need that, especially if he was going to go into the Games. In his hand was a leather-banded wristwatch, old and frayed, but still strong. Ralfus had owned that watch since before Griff was even born, and he almost never took it off. Seeing it in his own hands was a very strange feeling to Griff. He looked from the watch's face up to the clock that hung on the wall of the room, ticking down to his demise. The watch was two minutes fast, and for some reason, Griff bothered to fiddle with the knobs and set the time correctly. If he was going to die, what did it matter? His fingers furled around the watch and he closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath.
He was going to have to find a way to win these games, whether he killed anyone directly or not.
But what was even the use?
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X-I-L2048's avatar
Great Reaping! :clap: I found it interesting that Griff would tell his sister to take tesserae if he didn't come back, as well as that little scene with his dad. I'm interested to see more of this guy!

Best of luck with getting accepted! :iconhandshakeplz: