A Cabin in the Woods (Taryn)

The sound of still sleep night creatures started to rise from the wooded area. Marceline maneuvered the darkening woods as someone who’d traveled them for years only could. It was still dangerous, and she tripped up often. She was sure there were more than a few scratches now decorating her face, staining it red.

She had to get out, away from the Games. It was evening, but they were still going. She’d had to get away from them, from the memories, from all of it. She’d managed to slip out of the square and into the woods. Usually, she didn’t trip as often as she was as of late, but there was so much on her mind, it wasn’t important. Marceline’s icy eyes were looking, but they didn’t see. She wasn’t quite as alert as usual; the knife in her hand had slipped a time or two and sliced her hand. Her dark curls caught on tree branches and she found herself ripping them off the branches, or more often, walking until the thick strands simply broke. She didn’t care if some wandering Peacekeeper or a lost animal found her; she’d simply kill on sight.

She hated the lot of them; always had, always will. But still, Marceline kept herself going, to the little cottage of stones and wood, a rickety thing that looked like a safety hazard to most-but to Marceline, it was all she had.

The thing was old, probably older than most of the things in District 10. There was a bed-broken springs poking up through the thin mattress top, a hand-made quilt, one of few things Marceline had scavenged from the house she’d shared with her parents. The broken springs, she’d tried her best with-stuffing them back down into the mattress, filling the spaces with soft plants to attempt preventing them from popping back up. Other than the bed, there were few things. A dresser that whoever had lived here years ago had carved or, perhaps, bought. Cabinets, high up on the walls-high enough that animals couldn’t reach them, and just low enough that, if Marceline stood on her tiptoes, she could reach it. And the few personal possessions she had, mostly photos. Pictures of her parents, of herself and Evie, of just Evie, of the place where they used to live. There were no pictures of just her; she preferred not to look at that girl, the one who’s eyes were alive, not dead, cold blue. She also had a small stuffed toy-she’d made it for Evie, years ago, found soft plants and skinned small animals until she could make a bear. Evie had loved the thing to death-it was ragged, the things it was stuffed with falling out the sides. Still, Marceline couldn’t bring herself to throw it away; she could barely hold onto herself with the pictures. She kept it on her bed, under the hand woven pillow, where it would stay for as long as Marceline was here.

There was a small stone fireplace in the room. Marceline struck up a fire, not caring who found her. Let them come, she thought. Let them come. She searched through the food-animals she’d killed, plants that Evie had showed her. She’d tried so hard to teach Marceline all of them, but her life had been too short. Taking a contraption of some type-it was metal, maybe, but it worked for her purpose-and filling it with water she’d brought here, putting some edible plants in it, hoping it boiled to a tea. She cut off some part of an animal-she didn’t know or care what kind of animal it was. She threw that on a spit she’d made-technically just a stick. She wasn’t really paying attention to anything except for making sure the meat didn’t burn.

It had been two months now searching the woods for the remains of District Thirteen. She and Mel had just been picked up by the train once more and they gave their report backs. After a nice long shower and a good meal at headquarters, Taryn and Melody were definitely ready for a good night’s sleep. However, as soon as Taryn set her head down to rest, so many thoughts, ideas, and memories of those months swarmed through her head. In that time the new Games had even started and she didn’t know. After being out there, encountering life outside of the Districts and not protected by the railway system, and even finding a wanderer alone… experiencing it firsthand wasn’t knowledge she was going to let slip away. She and Mel were supposed to stay at headquarters for three days to recuperate. However, Taryn couldn’t let that happen. She needed to be out there again.

She made her way over the the rest of the workers who were awake and loading up the train. First Taryn asked about Stan, she needed to find her best friend, when they mentioned he was two train stops away, arms crossed, she entered the boarding train. ”I’ll start work tomorrow. We need to find our recruits staying in the Districts. We need to tell them of the progress we’ve made.” The workers were grudgingly annoying about it, but after a considerable lot of telling her she needed sleep, despite the daylight, Taryn was set on the train for the closest stop: outskirts of District Ten.

Taryn soon fell asleep to the familiar steady rocking of the train, only to be woken hours later – even though it passed by as mere seconds. Taryn had to wipe the sleep from her eyes. ”It’s alright” an older worker told her, ”you have it pretty easy, we’re sending a scout out in each district to report to the rebels harbouring in each District. I have instructions on this sheet and an address. There’s a cottage not far from drop off where rebels have stayed for a night or two. There’s a cot and here’s a pack for you with food. Be safe. We’ll come back in two days.” And that was that. Being an undercover rebel wasn’t particularily the easiest thing to do. People died once a month and there was constant working if you were ready for it. At first, for Taryn, it had just been a drive to find her father who had disappeared on the job, but now it was so much more. She wanted this. She needed to make everything right.

All she did was wave and the train was gone again. Pulling out a dim light, she pointed it low as not to accidentally signal the District somewhere in the distance. As the worker said, the cabin wasn’t too far away. No more than 10 minutes of searching. Though, as her friend failed to mention, there was a faint glow coming from the windows and a faint plume of smoke coming from the chimney, hinting the slightest smell of a churning fire. Taryn was careful, as always, but when she peeked through the window and spotted a girl, Taryn took the right-a-way and went into the mode of her old self. It was just a girl who ran away. Instead of her normal care, she ran to the door, twigs cracking and leaving crackling beneath her feet. Going through the door, in a hushed voice, Taryn inquired, ”what are you doing? You need to be more careful, you’re going to get yourself killed!” Without any further ado, Taryn stomped the fire out and pointed her light to the roof to illuminate the cabin as best it could.

Marceline's icy blue eyes flashed up, and she turned around. Her eyes flashed with anger, but it faded away almost as quickly as it had struck. The girl was looking at her, but she didn't mean harm-at least, she didn’t look it. She looked behind her, and knew she’d never get her knife. The only option left was to act friendly, although suspicious, and hope that the girl was the same. She did just put out the fire, worried if Marceline would get herself killed. No one had cared about her well-being for the longest time. It was a reassuring feeling that made her not so much bitter and defensive against the girl, but more suspicious of why she'd be out here. The girl didn't look familiar, or have the typical district look. Then again, neither did she, so who was Marceline to judge? Her eyes went back to the girl. “Who are you?” she said, in an equally quiet voice. She didn’t look like a Capitolite-she was underfed, as many were in the District, looked tired. Marceline could see her same story, reflected back at her in this strange girl that had appeared from nowhere-just a girl, runaway from everything that she hated. Looking at the girl, she could tell that she was just a bit older than herself-and Marceline looked a bit older than fifteen. She pulled the drink she’d been heating and held it up. “I’ve been doing this for years; if they wanted me dead, I’d be dead. Everyone else I love is, anyways. I was…cooking doesn’t seem like quite the right word.”

She walked over to the cabinets-or, more so, limped, may as well admit it, the girl had scared her with her sudden appearance and she’d jumped. She probably twisted something, but it wasn’t the worst injury she’d ever had. She grabbed another cup-like object and poured half the mixture into it. “You look a little worse for wear,” she noted, holding the cup out to the girl. “I warn you, though, I’m not much for this stuff. The most I can assure you is that it’s not poisonous. My sister was…” she trailed off, only this time it was the ultimate sadness and longing, not the anger at this stranger. No, either she was a very well disguised Capitolite, or a girl that had runaway. And if she turned out to be a Capitolite, well, she had no problem with slitting her throat. But it had been awhile since she’d had company out here in the woods. For now, however, there was no harm in being hospitable.

Marceline walked over to the hearth, where she had dropped the spit, and pulled it out of the coals. Slightly ashy, maybe a little overdone, but still edible. She plunked it down on the table. “You hungry?” she asked the girl. “I have more.” To verify this, Marceline walked over to the cupboard where meat was stored and flung it open. Hoping to get the girl to trust her, tell her who she was. “Who are you?” she asked again, walking to the cot and sitting cross-legged on it. “Why are you here?” And, for once, it wasn’t just her need for survival that kept her head level, her voice low, and her need for information high. She needed to know; she was curious, an almost foreign feeling to her now. She was curious about the strange girl that looked like what she must look like; haggard face, messy hair, runaway. She wanted to know why.

The girl was only a little but younger than Taryn looks wise, but still, she seemed independent and strong – as few were by that age. Taryn wasn’t sure but she thought she noticed a spark of anger when she put out the fire. Well, maybe independent and strong, but not too intelligent as it seemed. Either that or she had some sort of death wish, which was, regrettably, understandable. But the real question was, why was she even out here? The sun had already set, Peacekeepers would be roaming the streets and getting back home safely would be too dangerous. Didn’t her family notice that she was gone? She couldn’t be running away… they were too close to the District. If she were to run away, on the first day she would put as much distance between herself and the District.

Of course, this girl was scrutinizing Taryn in the same way. If she was from ten, Taryn obviously didn’t look like a commoner there. She would stick out and therefore would be an easy face to remember, even if they would be a few years apart in the schooling. Taryn was never told how big this District was, but the questions were unavoidable and the girl began with the most familiar: ’who are you?’ Taryn knew she only had seconds to figure out her plan. Lies, or truth? If the District was small, lies would be easy to track down. ”I’m Taryn… who-who are you? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around the District – or outside of it, for that matter.” Taryn bit her lip. That was it, calm, cool, make it sound convincing, and don’t seem too overconfident. The girl how found her way out of this type of situation before, she could manage it again.

Taryn clamped her jaw back when the girl started talking again. Her tone was collected and seemed fairly nice. ”Huh. It’s funny… Your story sounds very similar to mine. I’ve just… I’ve just never been in the woods on this side of the District, I live way on the other side. It’s crazy that I’m just now meeting you. May I ask who you are in return?” Also polite, huh, that was a new one. ”Thank you.” Taryn said in earnest as this new girl handed her something unrecognizable to eat. ”Is your leg alright?”

Then even more questions started coming. This was all inevitable, Taryn had learned, by her years on the train in search of her father and various run-ins with District members – mostly all teenagers. They were all so curious. Some seemed to see through her well-practiced lies in a matter of minutes. Taryn let out a long sigh, briefly running through what to say in her head. Part of her wanted to give a more believable lie, but at this moment, all she knew was that there was a similar girl to her sitting across the make-shift table. She could be lying as much as Taryn was. “I’m here because… I don’t even know. I just had to find somewhere different I need to find some sort of… adventure I guess. Everything just feels so hollow.” Taryn scratched her head and chewed a corner of her lip. ”If that made any sense at all.”

Marceline’s eyes ran up and down the girl from her perch on the makeshift bed. “Taryn,” she said, rolling the name over her tongue. It didn’t sound like a name that someone from District 10 would give. But Marceline truly didn’t care. While maybe not the whole truth, there was some of it there. Then again, Marceline had never been very good at spotting a lie-or the truth. No, that had always been Evie. She would’ve known, and she could’ve been much more convincing, welcoming, than Marceline had ever been, even if she hadn’t lost everyone.

Marceline shrugged. “I’d be surprised if you’d seen me inside it; I practically live out here. No, too much to be taken and not enough to be gained for me in there,” she jerked her head in the general direction of the District. “Anyways, I’m Marceline…” There was a brief moment of hesitation as she considered telling her last name. “Marceline, ma’am.” She gave a smile, friendly enough, but teeming on the edge of madness, surely. For that was just the way she was; a little crazy.

“I’m sure, if more people had nerve, we wouldn’t be the only ones out here,” Marceline said matter-of-factly. She had no right to question why Taryn was out here; sure, she wanted to know, but she wanted even less to want to recount her own horrid backstory. “On the other side? I don’t think I’ve ever been over there. Or maybe I was; I was rather little when…” she trailed off, unsure of how to finish that statement without being overbearing. “When my parents left me.” She was sure that Taryn wasn’t necessarily stupid and would piece together that her parents were dead-after all, she was alive and had a similar story to hers-but it didn’t give much away. “No problem,” she said, “My leg’s fine. Anyways, I’ve suffered far worse,” she shrugged. It did hurt, in reality. But she’d suffered far worse physically, and that paled in comparison to what she’d suffered mentally. However, she slid off her boot and stuck her leg out off the bed. It didn’t do much, but it made Marceline feel better, as if it was actually beneficial.

Marceline couldn’t tell if Taryn was lying or not; her story seemed rehearsed, at the least, but maybe it was her life. Maybe she’d had to tell it before. Marceline was sure that, at least, parts of it were true. And how often did she lie to cover up who she was to someone? She never trusted someone automatically, and most wise people who lived a similar life to hers would do the same. “An adventurer, eh?” Marceline asked, almost warily. “I get the hollow feeling; it’s part of the reason I’m out here.” That was the partial truth, if not a downright lie. Marceline was out here because, somewhere deep down, she knew she was legitimately insane, dangerous, even; Evie was gone, it had driven her off the edge. Out here, she could escape the memories, the reruns, the bone-crushing truth that there was absolutely nothing left, and she would be hard pressed to find something that was worth going back for. No friends, no family, just a runaway that people whispered about. “Strange place for an adventure, if you live on the other side of the District,” Marceline off-handedly brushed away a couple of dark curls from her face. “Make more sense to be closer to your house, ‘less you’re trying to get away.” That much, Marceline could understand; after all, she’d made a life deep in the woods for herself and a sister far beyond her, and had once again uprooted herself to run from everything. Other than the pictures and the Evie-sized grave sitting outside, she had nothing left of her family; it would never actually replace them, and it would only hurt to try. “Who am I to judge you, though? I’m out here, deep in the woods, in the night, same as you are.”

Taryn jolted her gaze upwards when the girl repeated her name. Taryn was looking at the ground. As this wasn't the first time Taryn had ever done something like this and it had become more of a habit, she had lost herself for a moment as she created this whole new character to be in her head. Coming up with a back story and everything so if the time came, she wouldn't have to stutter lies. However, for the first time in a while, she felt like something was holding her back, she thought that maybe this girl would want to join the railway as well - she seemed the type. But it was always too risky to tell. Always. They would be dead if the Capitol ever found out. Everything would all be shut down, maybe even before they were able to find the ruins of District Thirteen and whatever the Capitol was hiding there or if there were any survivors. At the least... that was the rebel's theory and their only means of hope at the moment.

The girl, Marceline, as Taryn learned soon enough began talking again and mentioned she wasn't seen inside the District very much. Even better. She had much more of a chance of getting away with everything she said as long as it wasn't far fetched. "I was like that for a little while... practically living out here. Getting farther and farther away by the day, but eventually life and school and my family caught up with me." Taryn paused for a moment, generally for effect, maybe for a bit of hope, she wasn't even sure. "Sorry if this is an odd question... but... have you ever thought of ...running away? You're making it seem like you don't have many you're attached to in there, well... what's holding you back?" It was a fair question, but she wasn't sure whether or not it was a good idea to ask it.

She relayed her name, and even repeated it. The second time, it was almost... eerie. Taryn had fairly good intuition about other people, and by the sound of it, this girl had lost someone - or even multiple people. She reminded Taryn a lot of herself a few years ago, just as she ran away and found the underground railroad.

As Taryn presumed, the girl accidentally mentioned something that gave her insight into her past. That, more than anything, made Taryn feel bad about her act. This girl had just told more of the truth to her than she could ever comfortably say about herself in front of anyone she had just met. She'd learned the hard way not to trust anyway. She wanted to comfort Marceline, but she didn't know how... It turned into a mumbled apology, whether Marceline wanted one or not. "I'm sure more people are out there somewhere. You'd be surprised - more people have nerve than I even imagined."

Taryn simply nodded when she mentioned it was fine and moved it to hopefully make it feel a bit better. She was surprised she even caught Marceline's very faint limp. Though, it was what she was trained to notice.

"Yeah, I figured," she shrugged in responce to Marceline mentioning she felt hollow on occasion as well. "Hey, well at least you've lived a bit. Been brave enough to come out here. Not many people are. It also shows more depth of character: means you're braver. Not as afraid of death. Those people just wallow away their lives in simplicity." Taryn even had to suppress a chuckle at what was thrown at her next. Marceline was quick witted... entirely too much like her, actually, it almost frightened her in a more mental sense. [color=lightblue]"Yeah, that definitely would make more sense, but I just wanted to get... away. I haven't exactly had the best night. I guess I just craved some different scenery.

Marceline furrowed her brow, curious about the question. “You’re right, nothing’s holding me back. Not anymore,” Marceline sighed. “I’ve wanted to, more than thought about it, even, running away. But, I lost my si…” she trailed off, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. “I lost my sister to the Games, and I can’t abandon her body. Because I want to, and if I could find a way, I know she’d want me to take it, and I know I would. But I can’t orchestrate my way clearly enough. And it’s not worth it to die.” She shrugged a little, not dwelling on her past, for once. “Her name was Evie. Wasn’t very long ago, when she was in it. A little thing, just 12. Only a little more than a year younger than me,” Marceline couldn’t stop it. God knew why, but the Taryn girl would understand. The information flooded out, and for the first time in years, it was a monotone, emotionless and blank. “I lost my parents I don’t know when. Rumored to be some type of uprising. Stupid venture-a group of District 10 people, couldn’t’ve been more than a hundred. My sister and I went off to the community house. Tried to run away, always got caught. I turned 7. Probably a dumb idea, but one night, Evie and I just disappeared. No one questioned it. No one came after us.

“We made our own way in the woods. I could hunt,” as if on cue, Marceline got up, and dragged her lame foot across the ground, procuring her knife. “Evie knew edible plants like no other. And not just edible-medicinal, ones that were good for teas, even ones that could kill an injured animal. It was tricky, getting out here-the fence is usually electrified. However, certain areas are rusted and don’t shock you-must not work. Moment it’s fixed, I’m stuck. We didn’t steal-for a couple of runaways, we were very moral. At least, Evie was. She was twelve. She died.” Marceline paused for the first time, closing her eyes, trying to block the bright red of blood smeared across her vision. “I stole. I killed. I had no friends. I met a castaway, Justin. He left. I wanted him to. I wanted to die. I considered doing it myself, but I persevered. Met a girl in the woods. Don’t remember her name. I now have exactly one friend. His name’s Duncan. My sister would’ve liked him.” Marceline shrugged again. Then she gasped, eyes flying open, as she realized exactly what she’d done. “Sorry. Tha…that’s a little much. I’ve been trying not to dump that on people. Not a good socialization method.” She grinned, for the first time, maybe in years, at least in front of a near stranger-sheepish and nervous. It didn’t quite reach her broken eyes.

“I’m sure there are,” Marceline sighed. “But if they’re there, they’re very good runaways. Haven’t approached me. I’m not an easily approachable person anyways.” Yup. Definitely had gotten the hint. But, whether Taryn liked it or not, Marceline had just poured her heart out. Something she’d done to one other person, who she was pretty sure could barely stand her. Even Duncan, who’d understand, who may be the only person she’d call a friend, didn’t know.

Marceline smiled-a real smile, not an apologetic one, not an evil one, not even a friendly one, necessarily. Just a smile. “Thanks. I think my acceptance of death makes me such a rubbish person, though. I’d call it selfish, but no one needs me, anyways,” the ghostly smile still lingered on her face. Not entirely foreign, but still, the muscles were unused to this. “I guess I understand it. I’d probably leave, too, except everything I have is right here.” She spread her arms out, then walked over to the mantle. The small, glassy eyed Evie-a single picture, sent with her coffin. She was torn between smashing it-she had other pictures-and showing it off. But she just left it and sat back down on the bed.

Part of Taryn was entirely surprised at Marceline’s answer, but another part wasn’t shocked in the slightest. The hard question, though, was how she was going to react to this knowledge. The girl admitted she had nothing holding her back. She could just run away if she wanted… and still she stayed. Why? Was there something holding her here that she didn’t even realize? Ah, of course there was. She lost a sister in the Games. Taryn, at that age, had lost her older brother in the Games. Human beings were seas full of mystery. Some people were entirely easy to swim through, but Marceline… she was different. And thank the lord for that. Taryn was far too fed up with simple minds without even the hint of a storm holding people back.

Sucking in a deep breath of air, Taryn moved closer to the girl. After an almost awkward hesitation, she placed her hand on the girl’s shoulder. ”I completely understand. I lost my older brother in the Games as well.” Shoot! Taryn, you spoiled the whole thing! Most people know the names of all the tributes in the Games from their District throughout the years. ”But… But it was ages ago. And he was a few years older. Being your younger sis – it… must be terrible.” Lowering her head for a moment, Taryn thoughtfully nibbled on a corner of her lip. ”I’m sure Evie would want you to do what feels right in your gut, and if you think that it’s staying, I agree, stick to your gut. I mean, it’s what I did after mom kicked me out of the house. She just… couldn’t bear the death of my brother. You know, in the Arena, the tributes aren’t the only people being driven to insanity.”

Well, that was entirely more than she felt comfortable sharing with people, especially since most of this was her real story and not some made up sick acting job that was attached to the string of her life and everyone secretly living underground and labeling themselves as a rebel. However, seeing how much this girl was spilling, though she was comfortable with it or not, it made Taryn feel better. She was so tempted to ask her if she wanted to rise up and be a rebel. Help them start off as they were right now, and even in the future, aim towards building an army. But… lying was too easy. She wanted to trust Marceline, she really did, but with her mention of killings and who knows what else, it was too hard. Though Taryn knew the feeling. She had stolen, abused her body – whatever it took to try and fill the gaping hole in her chest, but everything was temporary.

God! The internal debate was growing heavier, weighing with every word the girl spoke. She tried to internally slap herself, and yell at herself to hold it together, but the end, she succumbed to intuition – her gut – as she ironically had just told the girl to follow. ”It’s fine”, she repeated, and even added on a smile for a nicer effect. ”I understand, even… but… Marceline. This might sound different, but… I just need to ask you something. That alright? I mean, giving the situation and circumstances, I’m sure you’ve thought of such an idea before, but the probability of it is a whole other situation in itself.” Closing her mouth stupidly, she realized Marceline didn’t have a clue where this was going – probably – and at the moment, she was just rambling aimlessly.

Marceline's eyes betrayed an emotion other than cold emptiness for the first time in years-understanding. Compassion. She could see how uncomfortable this made Taryn, sharing just this small bit of information. Without even thinking, Marceline hugged her. Quickly. Then she sat back down. "I'm sorry. I know that's a load of crap-at least, that's how I've always taken it, you're just glad it's not you, not someone you know-but losing someone...I can understand. I've lost everyone," she gave a sad smile. "Well, you're not nearly as dumb as everyone else who's ever come out here. I'm sorry about your mom-my parents may have died, but I know Mama loved me. I think it would be worse, to have parents that not love them than no parents at all. I know," she laughed, a hollow sound. "You should see what happens when I decide to emerge. Hide the children, she might eat your souls!" Marceline rolled her eyes. Here, in the increasing darkness, having the best conversation she'd had in a while, the back of her mind wondered if she might not be completely stable. If staying here was really what Evie would have wanted for her increasingly crazy sister.

Marceline stared down at her boots. They had been her mom's-her mom was a warrior. She looked just like her sister. All brown hair, thick and wavy, and green eyed. The leather peeled a bit, and the inside was too soft, but they were perfect. Marceline couldn't throw them away. She never would. Subconsciously, Marceline grabbed the threadbare toy, holding it like a lifeline. Her eyes flashed, her arm jerked, and the toy was broken. Whispering a few choice cuss words, she grabbed a needle and thread and began her pathetic attempt at fixing the thing. It was so old, so broken, it was almost not worth it. She compared the toy to her life. Marceline was broken, and these ghosts kept trying to fix her. But there was virtually no chance of it happening. Something so significant that it scared her into forgetting the ghosts, so she could no longer feel and consequently stop them from fixing her.

Marceline crossed her ankles, and listened. What was Taryn implying? It seemed to be hard for her to choke out, but she was doing something that far too many people didn't do-she was taking her own advice. Marceline focused on her pathetic attempt to fix the stupid toy. Stained with berries. Berries that looked like blood. Like the blood staining Evie's hair, her porcelain face. Suddenly, Marceline couldn't breath. "Shoot, then," Marceline choked out, her voice breaking and raspy.. "Let's see-a girl from the other side of the District appears and stamps out my fire and understands me more than a single darn person in this Hell-hole. I don't see how it can get much stranged." Marceline said this without malice, just matter-of-fact. Her sense of humor was sarcastic. She couldn't remember if she even had one. So she leaned back, and somewhere, in the back of her mind where even she didn't want to wander, that little part of her mind that still held onto the bright colors of hope wondered if Taryn was implying exactly what it dared to think. But then it remembered that it wasn't completely sane. She had previously brushed it off as depression, but Marceline wondered-was it the fact that she was struggling to hold on to Evie, or the fact she couldn't let go?