#lingeringthirst

it was dark. but not really. it was cold. but not really. wheein, just like any other day, or night— who knows when you’re deep beneath the surface? the sun couldn’t reach this place, not with how the depths robbed its strength every meter you go deeper— swam through the kingdom. it was silent. the ocean was silent today. wheein was alone as her strong fins brought her around. her hair moved in accordance to wheein’s movements, although a second later, creating a small wave as her body did another. father must be in the kingdom, busying himself with keeping their species alive, or whatever. wheein didn’t care.

in wheein’s world. the ocean offered nothing but darkness. it wasn’t a negative thing, wheein thought. if you were born in the darkness, brightness becomes painful. unbearable light will make one squint acquainted with the abyss. eventually, one will learn to stay underwater.

but wheein was different.

just like today, and yesterday, and last month, and last year, the young mermaid swam her way to the end of their world. the surface. her father never failed to make it sound like an ominous death wish. the surface. it sounded like a beast that will eat you alive even while not blinking. father, with no fail, every day every night, reminded his curious daughter she will reach her end at the other side, outside their world. at the barrier of water and death! wheein, being wheein, checked the validity of her father’s warnings. she pushed an arm into it but was in tact when she brought it back. it looked different, like her arm was being turned into a jellyfish, but she was alive! it was cold too, at the other side, but it wasn’t cold enough for her to hurt.

she heard rumbles here and there, mostly behind her. a soft reminder that she was about to cross, yet again, the gates of eminent destruction, or so according to her daddy. wheein started small. a finger, a hand, an arm and eventually, she found herself pushing and going through the barrier halfway through. her hair looked weird after some time. it didn’t move and it stuck to her skin. it was an annoying feeling but she grew to like it over time. today, torso above the surface, wheein rested her elbows on an island of rocks. the waves hit her body as if they didn’t know she was part of the kingdom. she didn’t mind. the canvas above her looked like another kind of ocean. she saw creatures swimming now and then, most have long fins on their sides though, and made noises that had wheein’s head tilting sideways. they were very odd.

there was this circle thing at the end of the picture too. wheein knew it was what brought light to this other world. it hurt at first but the orange hues it spilled on the sea above her was beautiful. wheein admired this other world. the wonders of living here crossed her mind now and then.

then she heard rattling. it gradually grew to some rumbling and shouting and unbearable scratching in her ears. quickly retreating to safety, wheein could see the color this thing emitted, but without the sound. it was orange, like the source of light in this world. was the bulb falling off? swimming her way closer, wheein soon emerged from the waters again to see what was happening.

it’s been a rough day, indeed. but alexis being the stubborn that she is, she did not heed her mother’s request of taking a break when she finished her work. it hasn’t been long since she got her new job and settled at seoul, but alexis felt uneasy staying at her aunt’s home. so despite her mom insisting that she should stay there, at least someone was going to look after her, alexis doesn’t obliged.

she haven’t even told her mom yet that she already found a place to stay, not too far away from the headquarters, a few stations away - it’s pretty convenient, she thought. the place was just a few minutes walk away from the train, and the price wasn’t high despite the convenience. there were rumors that the place was haunted, that the previous owner was murdered and such but alexis didn’t really think much about it. she doesn’t really believe in ghosts, though paranormal activities does interest her. she haven’t seen nor felt one, so she find it hard to believe in them.

at least she have a place to stay now, and that’s what matters. not even a ghost could possibly stop her from moving to this new place. 

it’s nine in the evening when she arrived at the said place, the owner had gave her the keys in advance. she haven’t really unpacked yet, maybe she will in the next few days. her stuff has already been delivered before she even arrived anyway, all that’s left to do was to unpack them. she unlocked the door and went inside, placing the bag of instant noodles on the table. she wasn’t really hungry to begin with, but alexis wanted to be ready in case her stomach grumbles at any time of the day. she looked around, nothing fancy to be seen - if she were to be honest. but she really couldn’t protest as she got the place at a decent price. alexis decided to go to the bathroom, maybe taking a hot bath would soothe her aching muscles. after all, she did had a long day.

@lingeringthirst

the weather was gloomy as daryl stares at the foggy window. it has been roughly an hour since they left district four – an hour since her life changed, a new beginning – a road to survival, a battle of the fittest. the thought made her stomach twist, her self esteem suddenly going down the drain, leaving her to suffer from despair.

will she even survive this? she doesn’t know, doesn’t think about it nor dwell on them. the thought alone scares her deeply.

she only hopes that odds were in her favor -- in their favor. hopefully she comes back in one piece for her little brother. the memory was still fresh, how her little brother’s name was called. her world crumbled in just a snap, and she felt like falling onto her knees – but she wouldn’t cry, she would held it in. a certain someone had told her that crying was a weakness, so she will hold it in. but she could not stand to just cry and watch her little brother come up front, watch him stare at her with despair. her brother was just a boy! he would not survive the arena, not to mention that he was disabled. no, she could not afford to just stand and watch him die on the screen.

she must do something, she was his only hope, and so she did. she volunteered, without any second thoughts. it did not took long enough for her to be escorted on stage, and everything went blank after that. her world had crumbled into pieces right here and there. she knew her end was so soon. but she did not fear death, she feared about her brother’s future.

daryl must survive.

her parents were long gone, her mother died while giving birth to her brother. her father – she does not consider her being a father at all. at such an early age, daryl was forced to work on the fishery. it seems as if her father had it all planned as she was known as a boy ever since, she worked at the fishery, posing as a boy at such a young age. since then, everyone knew her as daryl, the little boy with a pretty face, short blonde hair, brown eyes.

it was alright though, at least she spared her little brother the hard work. her brother was born with a disease and he was permanently blind but her father didn’t spared him from cruelty. since her mother died, her father had been drinking every day. there weren’t a day where they were spared with his cruel hands, but daryl almost tried to take them all – wanting to spare her brother the pain. the scars and bruises all over her skin were imprinted permanently but daryl did not mind.

it wasn’t anything alike to what her brother is suffering, being taken away the ability to see.

she had to save him somehow, from the despair. someone had to be his hope, and she wanted to be that person.

as for daryl, she was pretty lucky to have someone else besides her brother as her light. vivian, the girl who knows her all too well. it was her who was there during dark times, the one who knows her inside, the one who knows the real daryl. but it pains her, pains her that she could not save vivian from the reaping.

it pains her to see her riding the same train to the capitol.

don’t leave him!

what are you doing?

this is betrayal. you ungrateful bitch.

this bitch is far from puddin’; why are you with her?

“stop,” kinzel’s whisper was desperate. hands pressed against the sides of her head, the base applying enough pressure to make her start yelling. it was painful. kinzel wasn’t certain if it was of her doing or the thoughts. her temple ached and the longer she screamed, the higher her pitch had become. “stop!” there were tears in her eyes. was it of desperation or pain? guilt spread from her heart, like darkness soon seeping out of her heart and rib cage into her veins. her blonde hair fell over her shoulders, unmade and tangled. kinzel, on her knees, curled up. she hasn’t stopped squeezing her brain.

“shut the fuck up!” a faceless shadow appeared before her, dark and ominous. soon, the shadow bore an offspring. and another. and another. seconds later, kinzel was caged by these shadows. “i don’t need him. i don’t need him— shut the fuck up!” kinzel swung an arm, wanting to land a punch straight on the devils. she hit nothing.

“i need him...”

as quick as she could, kinzel made her way to the door. she tripped, scraping her knee, but a simple scratch didn’t stop her. bruises colored her skin like a new canvas; puddin’ was her dedicated painter. she went on, her high pitched yelling still echoing within the four walls. “i’m coming, puddin’!”

thin, string like, hands pointed at the roman numerals of five, the shorter at slowly reaching twelve. the e-mail wheein received last night at exactly midnight was precise, containing only four phrases.

target. 1730. mall. delete.

wheein sipped her tall americano under the afternoon air. it was damp, and humid, and it made her forehead sweat. the black cap she wore absorbed some perspiration. mental note: hand wash it when you get home. her arms were starting to moisten too. she preferred to sweat here than be cool inside; starbucks’ noise was another thing she couldn’t take. adrenaline was easier to grasp while sweating. senses were heightened the more heat circulated around wheein, like a kettle serving its purpose: reach boiling point. with the prickling feel of nervousness trailing down her temple, wheein could focus on the target with ease. the cold relaxed her but relaxing was the last thing she needed.

the coffee shop was just by the side of the mall, which was across the beach of where she was supposed to take the target out. it was a motel. the accommodating motel with the red flashing lights at midnight. it would be a five minute walk. her target was a man in his thirties, earning millions, probably some high shareholder in a company (all were guesses). wheein’s agency didn’t give her any reason for the assassination; not unusual. it will be a piece of cake. the man will arrive in a few and park his sedan right across his room.

hand watch pointed at five and three. ample time for wheein to get ready. as she walked across the street, still holding her half finished cup of coffee, her hand reached down to the right side of her hip. gun was there. the small town accommodated few people, hence fewer witnesses. not to mention they had dead roads; this was one. no cars, no people, no civilians. in no time, wheein was resting at the bench at the parking lot.

“ten minutes,” she whispered particularly to no one, taking the bitter taste of her coffee into her mouth again. “easy money,”