Capture My Heart

The two days before I got let back out into the arena were the longest of my life.

Violet forgot me. It was the only thought in my head. My heart hurt so much, even worse than last time. Instead of the dull numbness that came with depression, this was a burning.

This was a burning sharp pain that reduced me to a worthless pile of nothingness.

This was worse than hell.

This was worse than the camp.

Imprinting was killing me, and made the seconds go by like years. I couldn’t wait to see Violet and Poppy, but I also was terrified to.

What could I say to them? What could I tell her?

She didn’t remember anything that had happened to her, so I couldn’t ask questions, but she didn’t…remember me, so I doubt she’d answer anyways.

We were led out after maybe my twelfth anxiety attack that morning. I tried to walk calmly and slowly, keeping attention elsewhere but it was hard. I wanted to sprint to the arena and search for Poppy and Violet.

We made it eventually though, and my eyes scanned the crowd, as my feet started dragging me towards where some part of me thought my imprint was.

It turned out to be the right choice though, because Violet was standing right next to Poppy, whose eyes landed on my face.

I saw that her bruises were nearly gone, only a scar from where her lip was split remained.

Their shirts were the same as mine, and I walked up to the pair slowly. Violet looked at me, following Poppy’s gaze, and I felt my heart tear at the coldness in her eyes.

There was no recognition – she simply looked at me.

That was it.

I took notice that she didn’t look any different than two days ago. Her skin was still clear, unscathed, and a smooth creamy pale. No marks and no bruises were on her, so I imagined she had behaved herself.

“Jake,” Poppy greeted, jumping up. Violet hung back, and I kept my eyes on her. “Poppy,” I said, catching her when she hugged me.

Violet.

Don’t stare at him, I cursed myself.

This guy had been on my mind since two days ago.

He called me Violet, and maybe that was my name but I wasn’t sure. If he knew me, I didn’t remember that either.

I wanted to though.

It was…annoying, not to remember what events had passed in my life to make me end up here.

I did, however, know that seeing Jake hugging on my semi-best friend from this hell of a prison made me extremely pissed.

Not even angry, I couldn’t describe the emotion going on inside me right now. I was angry and sad and I was longing at the same time…jealous maybe?

But how could I be jealous of I guy I couldn’t recall before two days ago, and a girl who had taken me in since coming here.

I met her on her first day here, only a week after mine. Her face had swelled from being beaten and I was the only one who even looked at her, and when I did I didn’t do it judgmentally, staring at her one good eye instead of her battered face.

I helped her out, and she was the closest thing to a friend I’d had here. She acted a lot older than me, although I was pretty sure we were the same age, and she seemed to be a lot more experienced than I was…because she remembered her life.

None of the other girls had so much as talked to me about life here, or were brave enough to ask around and find out what was happening, so I was clueless.

That’s what Poppy had told me she was doing yesterday when she bolted, but then she met up with Mr. Muscle and all-but ditched me.

Poppy knew him before, and told me about him in the two days we’d spent since my meeting him.

She couldn’t say much though, and I still hadn’t cared half as much as she wanted me too, or as much as I did with seeing her in his arms.

It made my blood boil and my teeth clench, hidden behind my pursed lips. I glared at the pair with hard eyes.

He was sad looking as he let her go, and I saw that he attempted to smile at her before her eyes flashed to me and they shared a look.

She grabbed his arm and dragged him over while I pretended I hadn’t just been glaring holes in her back for simply hugging a friend. He had to be her friend. They couldn’t…

“Farah, this is Jacob,” Poppy introduced, and I saw him wince, pain in his eyes when he turned them to the ground.

I cringed at the sound of that name...my name.

I was pretty sure it wasn’t actually mine, because I doubted I would be stupid enough before to tattoo my own name on myself. It must’ve been someone important though, and it was all I had.

What was it Jacob called me? Violet?

I kinda liked that better, but with Poppy, one flower was good enough, so I’d be Farah for now.

“Hi,” I said stiffly, shifting so I could both see him and hide my face more easily.

His eyes met mine before flashing to the ground and my chin rested on my knees while my hair- which had been cropped short my first day here – fell in my eyes slightly.

“Hello…Farah,” he mumbled, and he stumbled over my name. I watched him curiously and a kind of awkwardness hung in the air. It was confusing.

He looked pretty sad too, and I was surprised at how much it actually hurt me to see. I wished I could remember…something…anything…

Why did this man affect me so much? So much more than he should…

I hated it.

Jacob.

Violet glared at the ground, a bit of confusion tainting the anger on her face while Poppy attempted to make conversation with both of us.

It was hard to cooperate, but I did manage to find out both of their numbers in the process, which I had memorized against my will.

Violet was D – 17329 and Poppy was D – 17331.

It was hard to imagine them that way, as numbers rather than people, but I knew that the numbers meant more than names to the vampires.

They didn’t see us the way we saw ourselves, or each other, and I knew for the time being, I had to go along with it; it was the way it went.

Also, I had a feeling that the numbers would be more useful later, for some reason, and that made the numbers stand out as well.

Things like this, when I knew for some reason that I was going to need something, made me tend to pay attention more.

The small talk was helping me barely, but Violet still hadn’t relaxed and we still had about three and a half more hours before we’d be separated again.

The thought made my stomach twist.

Only three and a half more hours to be together, before they were both sent to the bad section and I was sent to the good one.

It wasn’t fair.

If anyone was going to suffer, it shouldn’t have been the two of them. It should’ve been me. They didn’t deserve any of it.

I started talking to them again. Violet rarely responded, but she did and I was glad to see she was trying.

It’d been too long, and she had been through too much to ask for anything else.