Warning~ This story includes some ketchup, sickness fluids and death :/ This is also old writing, so don't judge it if it's kinda stinky. (The picture is metaphorical <) Marigold: Tweet's Mother Travis: The oldest brother Randal: Younger twin Tye: Older twin (Fennec is the grey cat~ I don't own her) ~Family's not Forever~ The old television crackled softly as if it struggled to keep the fuzzy pictures moving on the screen. Marigold was on the edge of her seat watching the screen with unblinking eyes, biting at her fingernails. Randal was sitting in a slightly larger beat-up looking plush seat. Some of the stuffing was poking out in places, but no one really noticed. His face looked deeply worried, his brow furrowed and his lips pressed together in a grim line. He nervously formed his hand into a fist and cracked all his knuckles at once. Travis leaned against the wall, his face expressionless and blank as he watched. His tail twitching ever so slightly. That tv made a soft click, as it side-swiped and now viewed a different cat. The new cat on-screen had grey fur and wore a small black backpack on her back. The camera switched to a better close-up angle, to carefully watch as the tribute masterfully scaled one of the few trees in the marshy swamps. The sun was setting, so it sent a warm orange glow over the bog making everything look golden and beautiful. It was a perfect scene until the screen switched to the next tribute. This cat was as skinny as a skeleton, her golden striped fur was matted and sticky with foul-smelling marsh mud. Her legs were shaking and as thin as sticks and looked as if they could break any moment. Her ribs jutted out of her sides as if her own skin no longer fit. You could count every rib. The camera zoomed up on the pathetic figure, you could now clearly see her face. Dark bags had formed under her red sleepless eyes. Her lips and nose were cracked to the point that they bled a little. Marigold covered her mouth and almost choked on a sob as she started crying softly. Randal stared at the screen for a few more moments, his mouth hanging open slightly. Was that really their bright-eyed little sister, that would bounce around trying to catch dandelion fluff? Randal opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. He tried again. “...Tye…” Was all he managed to sputter. Travis caught his eye and nodded faintly. He leaned his head back against the wall. “Tye, get in here right now. You need to see this,” Travis called in a hoarse voice, loud enough to hear through the whole house. After a few seconds, loud footsteps stomped down the stairs. “Yeah, what? I was busy-.” The words died in his throat. He stopped dead as he entered the room, his eyes glued to the tv screen. “...T-tweet?” He blinked dumbly at the screen as if he didn’t understand. He moved further into the room, standing in front of the screen, blocking most of the view for the others. But they didn’t call him out. The screen showed the little feeble cat trip over a branch that was clearly jutting out of the muddy ground. She tripped over it so easily, her legs too weak to catch herself. She lay still in the mud for a few minutes not moving. Everyone in the room held their breath, silently begging for her to get up. The camera moved to a side view, as Tweet feebly tried to get up. She almost failed, but then caught herself and heaved herself back up. The camera then switched to yet another view as she staggered forward. She hadn’t made it a foot when suddenly her back arched and her head snapped back, and then jerked her head down closer to the ground as she was suddenly overcome by nausea. She spat up the little that was left in her hollow belly. After a moment she seemed to have gotten over nausea, but then her back arched again and she gagged up a mouthful of blood. Everyone in the room was silent, praying silently that someone would help her...she needed food and water. She stood there for a moment, swaying slightly, just staring down at the mess she had just made on the marshy ground in front of her. She suddenly staggered forward, caught off balance as one of her legs buckled. She trailed through the mess she had just made but she took no notice. She stumbled on for 20 minutes or so more. Each step was clearly getting harder and harder. Her breath now was ragged, and she seemed unfocused. Stumbling and nearly tripping over everything. She then finally, sank to the wet ground, just laying there, trying to catch her breath as it became more feeble and harder to breathe. Tye was almost hugging the screen, his face was so close. “No. No...T-tweet...Tweet get up. Please...get up.” He whispered desperately to the screen as if she could hear him if he did. “Get up. Please... Somebody help her,” He gagged, trying not to cry and be brave for his little sister. “Somebody help her.” He growled in a harsh whisper.
“She’s d-dying.” He choked on his own words, his eyes locked on the horrible scene playing out on the tv in front of him. “Somebody help her.” He started to sob softly. “SOMEBODY HELP HER.” He flared suddenly and banged his fist on the screen. “SOMEBODY HELP HER.” He kept screaming the words angrily at the screen, his voice rising. Tears streamed down his face as he pounded the screen with his fist. He was now kneeling before the tv, sobbing, and yelling and pounding on the screen. Finally, he drew quiet as Tweet’s body stilled and a cannon blast was fired. His face was slick with tears and his voice was hoarse from yelling. “T...Tweet?” He called out to the screen in a strangled voice. Of course, nothing happened, and the camera switched to a different tribute once more. Tye leaned forward, pressing his cheek against the screen for support. He started to cry again, but not enraged sobs, tears of pure horror and grief streamed down his face and wracked his body. Ma got up, her paws trembling. A few tears ran down her face, but she wasn’t sobbing. She gently moved forward and turned the knob of the tv, shutting it off. She looked stricken, she then turned and left the room without a sound. Randal was frozen to his seat, his mouth hanging open slightly. Travis’s eyes had teared up, but he and Randal had not cried. He silently left the room, leaving only Randal and Tye. “Tye…?” Randal spoke up in a weak voice after a moment. Tye didn’t reply, his shoulders shook gently as he wept. “Tye…” He repeated and got up out of his chair on unsteady legs. He placed a hand on Tye’s shoulder and opened his mouth to say something. “What? Everything is going to be okay? She’s in a better place now? SHUT UP, I don’t want to hear THAT CRAP.” He snapped, his head swung around to glare at his younger twin. Randal staggered back a pace, it was better to give Tye space when he was emotional. “They killed her,” He pointed to the screen with a claw, “Nobody helped her...why...WHY DIDN’T THEY HELP HER?” He asked Randal, his gaze locked on the blank screen. Randal looked as if he was going to try and answer but Tye continued. “I’m going to kill them.” He growled. “Don’t be crazy, Tye...I know it’s hard to except but-,” Randal desperately tried to plea with his older twin. “All of them. The game makers, the President, the tributes, the Victor. I’m going to kill them all.” He was dead serious, and that was scaring Randal. “On Tweet’s death, I swear I’ll do it.” He stood up in front of the screen, still staring at it with a haunted gare. He drew his arm back, and before Randal could stop him, slung it forward smashing through the screen of the tv. “Even if it kills me.”
