Strained Relationships[Sarella]

I thought I was the only one out here, the only who came out to the fence to just be alone. Well techniquelly I was no longer alone, but in the presence of a young girl, or at least she appeared to be young. I had never been very good with ages of people, and she was no exception. She was rather odd looking though, and it surprised me that she hadn't come and spat at me yet, most people did when they saw me. Infact it was strange that she hadn't called me by name, everyone knew I was Lyre Turner, sister of Lethe Turner. Her clothes looked to big for her and she looked...abused...like she had recently been beaten on. A large bruise was forming on her face, it was fresh, probably only occured a few minutes ago at best. I couldn't understand why she looked that way or why I didn't recognize her. Her greeting could do with some improving though, I mean telling me that you were almost killed and impregnated here wasn't really a way to start a conversation.

I removed my hands from the fence and walked over to this stranger. She was most definitely young, and most definitely abused, this was no way for a young woman to look. I reached into my pocket and withdrew a small cloth from it and began to dab at the bruise gently. Gently I moved some of the curls from her face to I could get a better look at her. Her eyes looked sunken into her face and she looked so defeated and sad. "Well most of us have almost been killed over here, but I would not go around saying you were almost impregnated here, that's not generally something you want people to know about. What are you doing out here hun, don't you know that the Peacekeepers keep strict watch on the fences. They can't do anything to me unless they want to get in trouble with the Capitol, being the sister of a Victor has its perks I guess." I lifted her chin so I could get a better look at her and her features. She was a beautiful girl underneath the bruises, how could anyone beat on her as they apprently had been?

I needed to get to the bottom of this, I couldn't let this injustice continue whatever it was. As I had previously said being the sister of Lethe had it's priviledges. Maybe whoever or whatever was causing this could be stopped with the a little bribe to the Peacekeepers. "Alright, I have a few questions for you sweetie, you don't have to answer them if you don't want to, but I would prefer if you did. One, what is your name and where to do you live? Two, who has been abusing you, punching you and beating you? You can't keep taking it like you are, it just isn't healthy for you. Come on, just tell me what is going on, I might be able to help you."

I thought that maybe my words had made an impact on her, that maybe she woudl tell me something. I could tell by the look her eyes that she was ready to say something, but than all of a sudden her eyes went blank, a solid void of no emotion. She was trying to keep secrets from me, from everyone and everything, and that would end up hurting her. How could she expect her situation in life to improve if she wouldn't let people help her. There had to be something I could say, a nerve to hit that would trigger some sort of emotion from her. People always had something like that, a word that triggered a memory or caused them to flinch, and if I could find it than I might be able to help her.

I brushed her hair out of her forehead and tucked it behind her ear. I smiled as encouragingly as I could and looked around for some place to sit and talk to her. No sense in standing here and being uncomfortable, especially when it might take some time to get anything out of her. Before I could find anything though I heard her voice, a faint little thing that seemed so timid, though what her voice was telling me was obviously not the truth. Anyone that knew anything would know that the bruises that covered her were not from falling, I had seen plenty of them in my life. Why would she lie about it though, there could only be a few reasons to explain her lies. It was obviously a defense mechanism for something, the way that the lie flowed so easily from her showed she was used to doing it. Than another sentence, something I didn't expect, a name. Could I believe it thought, what if it was another lie, there was something thought that told me it was the truth, something in the sound of her voice. Than again she did tell me that she lived in the clouds...there was definitely something wrong here.

Phoebe Mystervine she called herself, I didn't recognize the name as one that I've heard around the district before. This didn't bode well for things, I had never seen her before and I had never heard her name before, someone or something was keeping her a secret from the district for whatever the reason and I was intent on figuring it out. Linking my arm through hers I walked along the fence looking for somewhere to sit in relative comfort. Walking a little into the district my eyes caught sight of two tree stumps partially buried in the snow. I led her over to them, dusted them off and gently pushed her onto one of them. "Phoebe, I can't help you if you don't allow me to help you. You have to trust me, trust that I won't hurt you. My name is Lyre Turner, sister of Lethe Turner, and it is within my power to provide you with some assistance. As of right now though I have no idea what the problem is so I cannot provide you with anything but a few words."

I don't know why I wanted to help her so much, I had only just met her. Perhaps it was because ever since I had seen Lethe in the Games I had felt some sort of connection with girls around her age. Maybe I was just as mental as the rest of my family, maybe I saw some of Lethe in this Phoebe Mystervine. In any event I could and would be able to help her if she allowed me to. I would get to the bottom of this mystery one way or another.

Nothing, that was exaclty what I got from her, maybe a flare of recognition in her eyes at the mention of my sisters name, but than...nothing. I couldn't understand it though, how could someone not want help when it was offered to them. Anyone could see that she was abused and when she mentioned a "he" it only provided me with the evidence to support what I thought. Why wouldn't she tell me, it didn't make any sense, there was no reason not to. Anyone else in the district would leap at the chance to be helped out of a life like that. Maybe it was the old Turner family curse showing through again, after all she had recognized my sister's name in some way. Maybe she was as ashamed of us as everyone else was. But she didn't run at the mention of the Turner family...why than, what possible excuse could she have for not accepting my offer.

Than I found out why, after much thought she gave me the reason...she couldn't trust me. I couldn't help but think, was that really it or was there more than she wasn't telling me? I looked over her again, defeated, slumped over, dressed in clothes that looked like they hadn't been washed in years. She looked as good as a homeless person, malnutritioned and beaten. "Come child, you can trust me, there is no reason why you can't. I'm only looking out for your well being and safety, I want what's best for you. I can remove you from the environment that you live in, offer you a better life. Why wouldn't you want that, to get out of whatever it is you're dealing with?" I couldn't understand it, her hesitancy, her distrust, her unwillingness to accept the hand of aid that was offered to her.

I decided to take things into my own hands now. I would take her back to my home, offer her a shower and new warm clothes, and my husband could treat some of the bruises on her. I linked my arm into hers once more and stood up. My house wasn't far from here at all, we had wandered further in than I had anticipated to find these stumps, so maybe a few minutes walk. I began to walk forward keeping my voice light and friendly in an attempt to get her to listen to what I had to say. "I'm going to take you to my home Phoebe, we'll get you washed up and into some nice clothes and my husband and I will treat your bruises for you. If you won't allow me to help you in any other way than at least allow me to help you this way. You can think about things while you clean up and get dressed, and than afterwards, if you want to talk than I'll be there to listen."

We continued on together, garnering a few looks from people along the streets, but we were otherwise unbothered. Finally we came up to the front door of my house and it was my husband who greeted us at the door. He was a slender man, very handsom, he wasn't the most well built person in the world, but what he lacked in muscle he made up for in heart. His brown hair blew in the breeze as he watched us approach, and he looked at the two of us questioningly. I gave him a look of warning as he was about to say something and he snapped his mouth shut and moved aside to let the two of us in. "You can have some of my clothes dear, in the bedroom just off of this room, just be sure not to wake the baby when you're in there. The bathroom is connected to the bedroom, and don't worry about using the warm water, it's perfectly fine. We'll be in the kitchen waiting for you when you come out."

Once Phoebe was out of sight I walked into the kitchen motioning for my husband to follow. That look of confusion was still written across his face as he watched her disappear from our sight. He would require an explanation, and he deserved one. After all I had just dragged a stranger into our home, offered her my clothes and the shower, and told her to come back into the kitchen. Yes, an explanation was in order, but there was little I could tell him, I didn't really understand why I had done it myself. When we reached the kitchen I sat down in a chair infront of the window, and my husband took a seat opposite me. His arms spread open as if to say "care to explain", and I looked at him, than out the window before beginning.

"Alright, I know you probably think I'm strange or something, but my heart told me I had to help her. You didn't see what she looked like when she came up to me, like some poor, beaten child, half starved and dare I say ready to die. Someone has been beating her I know it, a girl just doesn't look like that from falling or anything, it was most definitely the marks of being beaten. When I saw her I saw Lethe in the Games again, being beaten upon, having to fight for her life. I couldn't just leave her, my heart instantly had a connection with hers. Maybe it's foolish to say or even to think, but I want to help her in any way I can. My intent is to get her to stay here overnight, or maybe even forever, but that might be difficult to manage." It all sounded so foolish now that I was saying it, but it did nothing to lower my longing to help her in any way I could. I could tell my husband thought it was foolish also, but he would never say it to me, he was to nice to say anything.

Lucky for me just as he was about to say something the girl, Phoebe, walked into the kitchen looking cleaner than before. It was amazing the difference a bath could make to someone's appearance, but the terrible bruising that still clung to her features was terrible to look at. There had to be some assistance that my husband or I could offer to her to help her, I still wanted to offer her out home as a sanctuary, somewhere to go and escape the abuse. It would all hinge on her willingness to accept what I had to say, accept my help, accept that she needed help period. My husband looked her over with a critical eye and got up from his seat brushing her hair out of her face and lifting her chin so he could get a better look at her. There was a mix of sympathy and compassion in her face, a face that I had come to know and love when he wanted to help people.

"First thing's first, we need to treat your bruises, by the look of them they have been beaten in the same spot several times. It's amazing to me you don't have any broken bones, by all rights you should be broken and beaten half dead somewhere. You must have quite the constitution to be able to last this long. I'm going to make you an offer child, I'm confident that Lyre shares my view on this so I'll just say it. We would like for you to stay the night in our home, we can treat your bruises and any other injuries you may have, and maybe you could tell us a little bit more about yourself."

I was pleased to hear him say it, he always knew what I was thinking, what I wanted to do. It was always his voice that spoke on behalf of mine when I couldn't find the words to express what I wanted to. He knew I wouldn't have the nerve to ask her, even after telling him that I wanted to, so he did it for me. Now all I could do was wait to hear what she was going to say, a responce to the offer my husband had made. In the even that she said no, there had to be some way of keeping her in the house long enough to listen to reason. She needed help and I was dead set on being the help that she needed, whether she knew it or not I felt some sort of motherly...or was it sisterly bond...with Phoebe.