Shop Mobile More Submit  Join Login
About Deviant Bernet912Female/New Zealand Group :icongottalovefanfic: Gottalovefanfic
 
Recent Activity
Deviant for 4 Years
Needs Core Membership
Statistics 56 Deviations 167 Comments 4,896 Pageviews
×

Newest Deviations

Literature
His Choice
“Are you sure this is going to work?”
I swing my legs. Hadrian and I both sit perched on the edge of a cliff. We’re only eight or nine metres from the water, but that’s still enough to give us broken bones. Especially if the water is shallow.
Hadrian is holding the twine that runs down to the hook he made.  Every few minutes, he recasts the line. I think he might be just as hungry as I am.
“Yeah, about that. I’m beginning to have my doubts. There should be fish feeding somewhere this shallow, but it’d be better if we weren’t so hungry,” he says.
I sigh irritably. “So now, after we’ve spend who knows how long setting up your fishing stuff, you decide that this probably wasn’t the best idea?”
“Yep.”
He pulls up the line, and wraps it around into a compact ball. He shoves it into the pack, frustrated.
“What do you propose we do now?” I ask. “The sponsors have their reasons for
:iconBernet912:Bernet912
:iconbernet912:Bernet912 5 2
Literature
First Came The Rain
First came the rain
She had always liked the sound of it
Liked how it feel in crystal cascades
Then came the thunder
A deep rumble
A warning
Then came the lightning
Brief, electric flashes
of jagged, sharply drawn lines
Then came the wind
It was amplified to a howling
a wail for a lost cause
Then came the hail
Turning the rain to sleet
icy waves falling from the sky
Then came the screaming
A bloodcurdling cry
mimicking the wind
Then came the silence
Just as suddenly as it had begun, the storm ended
The storm ended with a deafening quiet
Finally came the darkness
and the girl, the storm bringer,
unraveled
Her black curls settled
dripping down her back like ink
It was too late.
She had frayed
She was dying
She had undone herself
The onlookers stared
She had brought her fury upon them
She had undone the sky
There was no way to fix it.
:iconBernet912:Bernet912
:iconbernet912:Bernet912 12 1
Literature
Subtle Apologies
“Do you have any water?” Hadrian asks.
“Look in the pack,” I snap back. It’s not his fault I’m in an irritable mood; my wounds burn from walking. I think they might even have started bleeding again.
He pulls out one of the water bottles, and shakes it. Instead of water moving inside, there is nothing. He stops walking, which I’m secretly glad about. The back of my knees hurt, hurt more than anything. I don’t want to be the one that suggests we stop to rest.
I slump against a tree trunk, and examine the wounds. I should dress them, but I want to reach somewhere safe first. Do the Careers really expect us to double back? Each route we could have taken seemed as inviting as the other. If nothing else, we’ve confused them.
Hadrian takes the other water bottle out of the pack, and shakes it. A weak sloshing sound comes from the inside. He opens it, and looks inside.
“When’s the last time you filled up on water?” he asks
:iconBernet912:Bernet912
:iconbernet912:Bernet912 3 2
Literature
Stolen from the Light
There was a girl
an innocent girl
until the dark stole her
from the light
And the dark broke her
It washed the colour from her eyes
and replaced the green with gold
Her world bent over backwards
because she no longer saw the light
only the dark
And then everyone shut her out
When she smiled, it was no longer an innocent smile
Nothing could hurt her anymore
Because if it did
She’d hit back
And then the dark toyed with her
She played with men
She played with their minds
until they broke too
She was no longer innocent
And then she gave up a part of herself
She stopped feeling one thing there was left to feel;
guilt
Because she finally accepted
That the dark had stolen her
The dark had stolen her from the Light
:iconBernet912:Bernet912
:iconbernet912:Bernet912 33 8
Literature
Hadrian's Redemption
He saved me. I told him I hated him, tried to kill him, but in the end he saved me.
I can barely believe it. Hadrian is a Career. He sided with the Careers.
But he still defied them. For me.
Why?
I run, faster than I have before. Running for my life. The forest has turned against me; it tries to hurt me, tries to slow me down. The pain from the back of my knees is excruciating. Each step becomes a stumble, as my body decides it can’t go any further. I try to will it on, try to push through the blinding agony, but collapse to the ground all the same.
I can’t do it.
I can’t do it.
Hadrian saved my life; I should keep trying, I should keep pushing myself. I owe it to him, don’t I?
Instead I start sobbing. Why? Why did he pretend he’d never spoken to me, never helped me, never given me advice? I wasn’t rational either. I screamed at him, told him I hated him.
He still helped me. For a reason I cannot fathom, he helped me.
My tears drip onto the blade of
:iconBernet912:Bernet912
:iconbernet912:Bernet912 2 2
Literature
Which Side Are You On?
I hear voices.
This is the first thing I process. My eyes snap open, and I see the late afternoon sun hanging low in the sky.
The second thing I process is the voices below me. They’re loud, which means the owners aren’t afraid of being discovered. And they’re discussing how to kill me.
“Couldn’t we just climb up there?”
“She’s thirty-odd pounds lighter than you. You wouldn’t be able to get up there.”
“You can’t climb up to her unless you want a long, painful fall.”
The last voice is what really jars me into motion. Hadrian. That means the voices can only belong to one group of people; the Careers. I’m stuck in this tree, not very high at all off the ground. Through some miracle, my axe is still in my lap.
Through some miracle, the Careers haven’t climbed up to kill me yet.
I stand up against the trunk, and look down. Arabella, Jem, Marina and the boy from One are below me. They whoop excitedly. I
:iconBernet912:Bernet912
:iconbernet912:Bernet912 4 2
Literature
Talking To The Jabberjays
Sunlight.
It hurts. It’s bright, a harsh midday spotlight. A spotlight that stretches around the arena.I remember where I am, and sit up suddenly. I can see the bank I fell down. It’s a good ten fifteen metres high, and very steep. I’m in a ditch of sorts. Debris from the forest is laid on top of me, stuck in my hair. I pull the worst out of my hair. It takes me a few seconds to freeze.
My axe.
My weapon.My only weapon.
Where is it?
I search frantically through the debris. I need to find it. It’s the only thing that I can fight with. Where is it?
I see a glinting under dead leaves. I push them aside in such eager that I almost cut my fingers off. My axe has never felt so comfortable in my hand. If I had lost it...the Games would have been over.
Where are the Careers? I’m not dead, meaning they haven’t found me. I only just avoided a run-in with them. Could I have fought them? All five of them? No. The tribute they killed must have found that out the
:iconBernet912:Bernet912
:iconbernet912:Bernet912 3 4
Literature
Fear
Fear has taken over.
With shaking hands, bloodied hands, I lower myself down to where I was sitting before. I don’t trust myself to stay high in the trees. It might give me cover, sight, but I’m too afraid. I’m afraid of everything. The mutts, the tributes, being discovered. My biggest fear is death. Not only the physical pain.
So afraid.
Sunlight reflects off the glassy lake. It’d be beautiful, if I hadn’t seen how blood made the water red, a washed out crimson. There could be all sorts of hidden dangers in the lake. Did I ever consider the possibility of mutts? Of course not; I was too busy trying to survive. Not everyone survives. The boy is dead. Other tributes, from the Cornucopia, from the outline districts, are dead. How long until I join them?
My eyes hurt. My throat hurts. They both burn, feel sore, from the number of times I’ve had to blink back tears.
I don’t bother tying myself to the tree. If I fall out, so be it. Besides, if I anc
:iconBernet912:Bernet912
:iconbernet912:Bernet912 3 2
RED :iconbernet912:Bernet912 1 2
Literature
To The Death
A figure steps out of the trees.
The boy from Five.
Gladius’s ally.
He wields a sword, a long, thin blade. I notice now that he’s at least a head taller than I am. He’s build similarly to Gladius. This makes him a challenging opponent. But I remember that if I want to go home, I need to be the last survivor. That require the death of all the other competitors.
If the boy from Five is here, Gladius can’t be far behind. Everyone in the arena seems to have an ally, someone to watch their back.
As the boy from Five walks towards me, I step backwards. His sword has a much longer reach than my axe, but he’s a lot bigger. I’m light on my feet; perhaps if I can throw in enough evasive moves I will be able to best him.
I don’t see anyone else drifting through the tree line. Where is Gladius? I expected him to be right behind the boy from Five. I she going to come up behind me in combat? Not seeing him is unnerving...he could be anywhere.
The boy is only
:iconBernet912:Bernet912
:iconbernet912:Bernet912 2 2
Literature
Confrontation
Somehow, I manage to fall asleep. When I wake again, I find soft light filtering through the clouds.
I've survived the first day in the arena. No other cannons woke me in the night, and I'm a light sleeper. The boy from Eleven's body isn't gone yet. The hovercraft doesn't come when another tribute is near.
I climb out of the tree. My stomach growls, and I realise that I need to eat. I haven't had anything since breakfast yesterday; I've been so worried about tributes finding me and killing me. I take some fruit out of my pack, and eat it as I walk.
I haven't gone far at all when I remember something. The boy from Eleven. He had weapons and supplies. Some of it might be useful, some of it might not. I haven't heard or seen the hovercraft that comes to collect the bodies of the tributes.
I turn away, and sprint back in the direction of the boy from Eleven. The hovercraft can't be far away now. I see his broken form, and suddenly feel reluctant. I've heard about bodies decomposing quickly
:iconBernet912:Bernet912
:iconbernet912:Bernet912 2 3
Clary and Jace :iconbernet912:Bernet912 6 1
Literature
Remembering
I run uphill, stumbling over the undergrowth. Every now and then, I hear movement and stop. It is never another tribute, only an animal. It always spooks me. I expect another tribute to come charging out of the trees, wielding a sword. I expect my scream to be long and echoing.
But no one comes.
I've run what is at least the distance to my afternoon shift from school, which is five miles. I'm exhausted. I look around for a sign of another human. There is no one.
On the way up the hill, I tried to stay as quiet as possible. This was near impossible, due to my being worn out.
The swim was the most challenging part of getting away from the Cornucopia. I've finally worked an efficient swimming style out. I wish Hadrian could show me another style, as mine both looks awkward, and involves a lot of thrashing around.
I sit near the ride of the hill, which is covered in trees. Midday light filters through the leaves above me, creating patches of warmth. I sit in one of them. I'm still soaking,
:iconBernet912:Bernet912
:iconbernet912:Bernet912 2 2
Literature
The Cornucopia
The first thing I see is light. Blinding white light, refracted off everything. I can't make anything out, and I feel disoriented. The plate has stopped rising, and is firm metal beneath my feet. It isn't the only thing I stand on.
The light makes it hard to see until my eyes adjust, so I use my ears. And what I hear terrifies me. The gentle sloshing of water.
My shoes are soaked. I lift one of my feet up.
No. I'm hallucinating.
Water washes over my feet. The light reflects off the water, as well as the Cornucopia. I no longer have to worry about being the fastest sprinter.
Because the Cornucopia is in the lake.
I want to cry. I can't swim. Hadrian can, Marina can. Some of the other tributes might have a vague knowledge.
I can't swim.
It's a fifty metre stretch of water to the platform the Cornucopia is suspended on. Some packs and other supplies are floating in the water. The weapons are all in the mouth of the golden horn or scattered around it.
I can see an axe. It's exactly the sam
:iconBernet912:Bernet912
:iconbernet912:Bernet912 3 7
Literature
Before The Arena
I sit next to Gladius in the hovercraft. No one is talking, not even Arabella. Hadrian gives me a weak smile, but I see that he’s just as nervous as I am.
That isn’t the face of a killer.
Marina tries to start up a conversation with Hadrian, but he’s not interested. I think she’s trying to take her mind off the Games.
I can’t help but think about what Tule said to me. Did I already have fight? Not the kind that Tule gave me. She’s right about it being indirect too. I’ve never been one to follow rules that didn’t seem reasonable. Tule didn’t mean for it, but arguing against her has given me a little more of a will to keep going.
Gladius and the girl from Five exchange a few words. I don't catch them, but they seem to be a greeting. When I look at the girl's ankle, I see it is still a little swollen. She must have sprained it badly. No wonder she scored so low; receiving only a four after her individual session. Her ankle is red enoug
:iconBernet912:Bernet912
:iconbernet912:Bernet912 4 2
Literature
Analysing
There is another screen in our room, and all eyes swivel to it. Gladius smiles and walk across the stage at a slow pace.
“Great to see you, Gladius,” Caesar says.
“It’s great to be here,” Gladius says.
They exchange small talk about the Capitol, and I hang on to every word. I’m hoping for him to let a piece of information slip. He might be from my district, but it doesn’t mean that he won’t come after me if we’re the last two left.
Unfortunately, he doesn’t reveal anything useful. His interview is conducted smoothly. He’s in control, but isn’t cocky. He makes the crowd laugh and applaud. I won’t be surprised if he’s already won himself sponsors.
Gladius divulges as little as possible about what his life was like back home. Is he convinced the Capitol shouldn’t know about the life they’ve ripped away from us? Or is it that the memory is too painful to face?
I fiddle with the woven bracelets o
:iconBernet912:Bernet912
:iconbernet912:Bernet912 2 2

Favourites

her eyes :iconalicechan:Alicechan 1,648 32 Medusa :iconalicechan:Alicechan 3,104 0 Decaying :iconalicechan:Alicechan 6,075 0 Riverside :iconnaschi:Naschi 2,756 78 Remember the Past :iconmatthias-haker:Matthias-Haker 2,679 114 If there's a life after that,I'll love you then. :icondeesney:Deesney 322 31 Katniss :iconmarghy-art:Marghy-Art 246 62 The Hunger Games :iconritsutainaka13:RitsuTainaka13 8 0 forgive me, Leo :iconjo3s5i:jo3s5i 2 0 Boy on Fire :iconnicodiangelo555:nicodiangelo555 105 5 .:.:FESTUS:.:. :iconakatsukimudkip:AkatsukiMudkip 135 35 Hold Me Tight :iconlauu7:lauu7 68 14
Literature
Happiness
I’m sick of everything.....
I’m sick of living each day bearing in everyone’s selfishness.
...and bearing my own selfishness...
The world disgusts me
And it is a given that no one really cares....
What they call faith has been lost
To get it back
I will pay the cost...
My pains don’t bother people....
Everyone disappoints me
Everyone rubs off their pains on me....
I’m tired of understanding everything
I don’t want to be kind or nice anymore...
But I don’t want to be mean either
I’m tired of telling myself its okay
Because in the end its not
I will still feel anxiety
I will still feel remorse
And no one can make me feel better
Everyone takes for granted my pain....
They see me as some idiot who smiles and jokes a lot....
THEY SHOULD JUST SHUT UP ABOUT THEIR PROBLEMS.....
IM SICK OF ENDURING WHATEVER AIRS THEY PUT OFF
AS IF THEY EXPECT ME TO BE SOME UNDERSTANDING FOOL WHO ONLY KNOWS KINDNESS...
They selfishly ask of my support yet in the en
:iconAdeliseEclair:AdeliseEclair
:iconadeliseeclair:AdeliseEclair 4 0
Literature
Cheater
Everybody is doomed to die.
Not just everybody, everything. Every living thing that can breathe, has a life span, has an opportunity to play in life is doomed to die. That’s a fact.
Yet they all die at different times, some before they are even properly born, others after the long years of torture and happiness, some before they have even stepped into the right world and others caught in-between.
They all die in different ways too, breathless, covered in blood, waiting for freedom, by their own hand, in the ocean’s embrace...
Yet human kind has yet to accept this fact. The most simple fact and they refuse to believe it. Aren’t humans funny in denial? When they try to be like these so called ‘Gods’ that live forever, blessed with immortality and the power of judgement.
Though they might play the game of life, they do nothing but cheat and everyone else that plays hates them for it - swearing karma will one day come back around. They never list
:iconThe-Feather-Quill:The-Feather-Quill
:iconthe-feather-quill:The-Feather-Quill 3 11
Literature
Ignorance Is Bliss
How I envy fools
Those born without the
Eyes to see the darkness; the
Ears to hear the lies; the
Skin to feel the chafing cold; the
Sense to realize:
There's darkness all around us,
Lecherous and black.
We lead a meaningless existence.
Bitter, I turn back.
How I envy fools
Living life, never knowing
The storm on the horizon;
Her clouds fill up the skies.
They do not see the warnings,
Nor hear the gentle "sigh"
Of the wind that's brewing.
They do not feel the rain.
Their never-knowing state
Is all that keeps them sane.
How I envy fools
They know nothing of pain
Will they ever find it,
The truth that I now know?
The sky is torn with violent light
The stormy gales blow.
The tempest is upon us,
But still their eyes are blind.
The lucky fools will never know
We are all
:iconZed-of-Venice:Zed-of-Venice
:iconzed-of-venice:Zed-of-Venice 39 8
Literature
Sono Morte
From the moment it starts thumping, most human hearts have about two billion, one hundred sixty-three million, forty-five thousand, nine hundred twenty-two beats. Once those beats are up, you die. Some people, however, don't have quite so many beats. The mortals call them "accidents" and "diseases"; I call it the work of another day. I am DEATH.
I have always been, since the beginning. I always will be, until the end. And I am now, watching you as you go about your life, oblivious to the ticking of the clock that will toll your demise. As you read this, a man walks from a store in Mexico, carrying a bag of groceries. He doesn't know that he will die on his way home. In London, two teenagers are making love. They don't smell the smoke; they won't see the fire until it's too late. And then there is you. Your clock… Ah, but I won't ruin the surprise. Let it suffice to say that it ticks towards zero faster than you think.
Often, in their last moments, people cry out to God. I will tel
:iconZed-of-Venice:Zed-of-Venice
:iconzed-of-venice:Zed-of-Venice 6 3

Activity


  • Listening to: Daft Punk
  • Reading: Beautiful Creatures
  • Watching: School of Rock
  • Eating: English Muffins
  • Drinking: Water
We are officially in drought.
It hasn't rained properly since the 4th of February. Apparently we have fifteen or so days of water left. It's actually quite weird/scary, as rain has always been a consistent factor where I live. However, it's supposed to rain all day today and for the next three days, so the drought should be over soon.
I saw Beautiful Creatures for the second time yesterday. It's an amazing movie; the actors were very well chosen, and the setting was excellent (it was filmed in New Orleans) :iconholaplz:
As with most movie based on the book, it didn't really have anything in common. It was still a good movie, but it was one of those movies that are different from the book, but are still good movies.
I've almost finished the book. In one word; enthralling. I'm finding it hard to contain my fangirly joy… :iconrainbowsqueeplz:
I've started writing poetry again. I can't believe it, but it's been six years since I wrote a proper poem. (I was young, so I don't know if you can call it a proper poem) Don't worry, I'm still writing Eunia's story, and might I just add that :icon914four: and :iconcas42: have helped my immensely with this project, as well as countless others. But poetry is acalling at the moment… :iconpenplz:

deviantID

Bernet912
New Zealand
Hola! I'm Bernet912 (no-really?)
Just to get a few formalities out of the way...
My birthday is on the 15th of Feb (day after Valentines)
I'm a daughter of Hades. (Not a Roman, sorry guys)
I'm from District Two.
I am on Team Peeta.
If I had a choice out of Vampire, Werewolf or Nephilim (Nephilim are half Angel) I'd go for Nephil.
Team Jacob? No!
Team Edward? No!
Team car that almost hit Bella? Yep!
Okay, so I really love drawing and writing, or else I obviously wouldn't be here. I also love viewing all your beautiful art!
I'm pretty comfortable with my style, but I guess I'm more into writing than anything else. I love all my OC's! I will list them someday...maybe...
I am a total fangirl, and sometimes my friends get annoyed! :P But if you want to do an art trade or somethin', go ahead and ask! I have heaps of free time and it'd be f-u-n!!!
I still have heaps to improve on (and a scanner to buy). A big thanks to everyone who ever faved or became a watcher or even viewed my art! :iconspazhugplz:
It means heaps!
:icontradesopen: :iconrequestsask: :iconcommissionsonhold: :icongiftsask:

Please check out the galleries of:
My good friend :iconimmynorling: . She is amazing with clay!
My informal editor :iconcas42: . He helps me with Eunia's story
Interests

Donate

Bernet912 has started a donation pool!
54 / 150
I'm saving up little by little for a Premium Membership :iconpurpleheartplz: If you have a couple of points spare, I'd be grateful if you donated.

You must be logged in to donate.
  • Anonymous
    Anonymous Deviant
    Donated Mar 22, 2013, 1:27:50 PM
    3
  • :icon914four:
    914four
    Donated Mar 10, 2013, 5:29:12 PM
    20
  • :icondahub:
    dAhub
    Donated Mar 8, 2013, 11:46:09 PM
    1
  • Anonymous
    Anonymous Deviant
    Donated Mar 4, 2013, 11:57:04 PM
    1
  • Anonymous
    Anonymous Deviant
    Donated Mar 2, 2013, 12:30:11 PM
    1

Comments


Add a Comment:
 
:iconkusachii:
Kusachii Featured By Owner Mar 28, 2014
//whispers Hey my dear child :iconsexybrowsplz:
It's me, cho. That annoying short brat in your class :iconpervheplz:. How u doing?
Reply
:iconstatic--death:
static--death Featured By Owner Nov 5, 2013  Hobbyist Photographer
Thank you so much for the favorite! :icondurrhurrplz:

If you dig my work, please support me by giving my Facebook page a like: www.facebook.com/StaticDeathPh…

:boogie::boogie::boogie:
Reply
:iconpaperbackrevelations:
PaperbackRevelations Featured By Owner Apr 23, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you very much for the :+fav: on [link]! If you would take the time to comment on my piece and let me know what in particular you liked, I would be happy to browse your gallery and return the favour. :D
Reply
:iconritsutainaka13:
RitsuTainaka13 Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you for the fav :з
Reply
:iconemster85:
emster85 Featured By Owner Apr 4, 2013  Student Writer
thank you for the favourite!
Reply
:icondrumgirl:
drumgirl Featured By Owner Apr 2, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you kindly for the fave :heart:
Reply
:iconrune4:
rune4 Featured By Owner Mar 31, 2013  Student General Artist
Thank you for the fav *Hug and llama and cookie
Reply
:iconmustbewriting13:
mustbewriting13 Featured By Owner Mar 31, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the :+fav:!
Reply
:iconenigmaticsmile:
enigmaticsmile Featured By Owner Mar 31, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the fave on "true end of day - infidelities, indiscretions" :)
Reply
:iconclockchat:
Clockchat Featured By Owner Mar 30, 2013
Thanks a bunch for your favorite on Remover, good miss. I'll check out your work soon!
Reply
Add a Comment: