Memories of Home. (Closed).

tardisgirl
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Memories of Home. (Closed). Feb 3, 2010 22:14:18 GMT -5

Post by tardisgirl on Feb 3, 2010 22:14:18 GMT -5

OOC: If anyone is actually reading this, it's a collection of things Iris Brookside, girl tribute from District Five, is remembering about home.

I’m lying on top of my water bed in my room in the Training Center, trying to focus on watching the review of my interview.
I get sidetracked very quickly though, when I mention my dog. I’m draw into thoughts I’ve not recalled in a long time, thoughts about how I got my dog. It had been on my birthday that I’d gotten him…

One day I'd seen a little boy, about six years old, I'd say, and an emaciated black and while collie puppy wandering the streets together. He was abandoned, and no one cared enough to even send him to the community home. Like so many others. His ribs showed plainly, and he was so weak and withered...I myself was only seven at the time, back when I had a father.
It was my birthday, and I'd been on my way to buy an orange, something I only got on Christmas and my birthday. I walked past them, like I had so many others, but I'd glanced, and there'd been such yearning in is face, and he was so hungry, his dog too. I was only seven, but I still knew that he was probably past saving, almost dead from starvation, but I'd still wanted to help. I'd run off, and used my money to buy two loaves of bread instead of my orange, and I'd walked back to him and given him the food.
He'd shared it with his puppy, giving his puppy one loaf, and eating the other himself, both as fast as they could.

I’d gone home and told my family I ate the orange on the way home. My dad didn’t buy it, but hadn’t said anything. I learned a few years later that he’d been following me that day, and had on past birthdays, just to make sure I’d be safe. He knew what I’d done, and was proud of me.

Iris Brookside -- Age 14--- District 5 -- The Tribute.

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Memories of Home. (Closed). Feb 3, 2010 22:31:58 GMT -5

Post by tardisgirl on Feb 3, 2010 22:31:58 GMT -5

*Continued*

Later that day we were walking down the street, my dad and me, and I’d seen two Peacekeepers trying to remove the emaciated dead body of very same boy whom I’d helped earlier from a street corner, but having trouble fending off his collie puppy. Half dead and as young as it was, it was fighting ferociously to protect his body.
It was a sickening sight, but not unusual. Starvation is a part of everyday life. The only part that stood out was the dedication of the dog.
As we watched, one of the Peacekeepers pulled out a gun and aimed it at the animal, but I cried out and broke away from my father, and flung myself in front of him, telling him it was my dog, and that I was sure I could make it behave.
They were gruff, but ready enough to let me take it away, and save themselves the cost of the bullet.
I called to the dog softly, beckoning to it. I swear, it remembered me as the person who gave his master and him food. I think to this day I saw recognition in his face.
He turned and growled at the Peacekeepers once more, and then walked to me, tail between his short stubby legs.
We both sat and watched, him growling but unmoving, as they dragged away his body.

We took him home, and I nursed him back to health. He just laid on the hearth, staring into space and moping for his boy. I love that about dogs, you can be gone for years and they’ll still love and recognize you when you get back. They don’t forget those they really love.

It took him a few weeks, but gradually he began to become active again, and take some interest in life again.

After awhile he became happy, excited, loving, and just about the sweetest thing I’d ever seen.

He was the best birthday present I ever got, and he was the smartest dog I’d ever seen.

Now I spend lots of my days training him, and entering him in competitions. He’s amazing, quirky, funny, smart, loving. He’s never forgotten that boy though. Some times he gets this wistful look in his eyes, and I know he’s remembering him.

I ought to say I used to train and play with him though, since now I’m a tribute.

I sit up, and walk over to the window seat in my room, not wanting to think about that boy, and those things I may never see or do again.

I try to focus on the now, but soon enough I drift off to thoughts of home again.

Iris Brookside -- Age 14--- District 5 -- The Tribute.

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Memories of Home. (Closed). Feb 4, 2010 22:41:47 GMT -5

Post by tardisgirl on Feb 4, 2010 22:41:47 GMT -5

The best Christmas ever: Part 1

This time I remember Christmas. My favorite Christmas. I don’t know why my thoughts drift off to it, maybe just because it’s one of the happiest things I remember, and stuck in this place of death and sorrow, it takes a lot to cheer me up, to make me forget…

I was ten that year. Cypress was a little thing, only four, but still the strongest willed child I’d ever seen. Eldra was just a baby then, only a year old. It was the last Christmas I spent with my father.

It was Christmas eve, and my mother and I ran along the shop fronts hand in hand. We went hopping over snow banks, laughing, singing Christmas songs, stopping to admire the decorations, and having a great time.

Christmas is really the best time of the year for me. Everyone seems just a little bit kinder, a little bit nicer, and for those for whom it is impossible to be nice, such as everyone in The Capitol, well, they seemed farther away. Much, much farther.

The shop fronts sparkled. Every single one was polished and shining, and I remember that the mayor had put some electric lights on the frame of his door. Christmas lights were so expensive, that it was only the second time I’d ever seen them. They were so beautiful, like fireflies caught frozen in droplets of ice.
Those who weren’t as well off as the Mayor were thrifty with their decorations. I saw lots of red berries and evergreen leaves, some real, some painted, some were expensive plastic, and some were made of red and green fabric or paper shaped to look like berries.
People used the ever abundant snow to make sculptures, the icicles to decorate, and a few people had even bought tiny pine or fir trees, and decorated them with little berries strung together with thread.

The whole world was sparkling and perfect. No night could be better. I swear the sky was so clear that night that the stars could have taken over the moon’s job of illumination the night.

It had been a perfect day, and a perfect night, and I had five little presents at home, and in my hand I had a fir branch to stick in a cup of dirt back at home and use as a tree that I’d won as a prize that day at the animal training session. It was my first Christmas tree ever, and I couldn’t be happier.

Iris Brookside -- Age 14--- District 5 -- The Tribute.

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Memories of Home. (Closed). Feb 6, 2010 22:38:35 GMT -5

Post by tardisgirl on Feb 6, 2010 22:38:35 GMT -5

The best Christmas ever: Part 2

We spent another few minutes gazing into the lovely window displays, talking giddily about the things we thought the prettiest, laugh about the things we thought flashy and useless. But finally we took off for home.
When my mom and I finally got home, our father was just finishing cooking our dinner. It was a whole Cornish Hen, cooked with fresh greens, and topped off with home grown seasonings. It was a feast.
I ran up to him, gave him a hug, and then fled the room so I wouldn’t see him kiss mom. It’s funny, how we used to go “bleck!” and run away, just like so many other things you do when you’re younger.
I ran into the room I shared with my two sisters and headed straight for my little mattress.
I knelt down silently and stuck my hand under the bed, feeling the presents I’d been hiding there. I took them out one by one, unwrapped them from the leaves and grass that were protecting them, and looked at them.
A little kitten, carved out of wood, which Cypress and I had made for Eldra. We’d taken turns carving it, and then Id painted it. It had taken months for us to carve it, for me to find the right colors to paint it with, and to finally get it done, but it was well worth it. It would be Eldra’s second toy, and it was so lovely. It was a calico in mid stride, its ears perked up; listening for something, its eyes staring intently into the direction the sound had come from. We’d captured this common cat pose perfectly, Cypress and I.
I carefully wrapped it up again and took out the second one.

Iris Brookside -- Age 14--- District 5 -- The Tribute.

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Memories of Home. (Closed). Feb 7, 2010 22:45:16 GMT -5

Post by tardisgirl on Feb 7, 2010 22:45:16 GMT -5

The best Christmas ever: Part 3

I carefully unwrapped the second gift. It was for Cypress. Immediately memories of how hard it had been to get the pieces of this gift flooded my brain when I took it out. It was a leather necklace, with three big shells hanging from it. It’d taken my months to surreptitiously steal them from the Hermit Crab room in the Animal Training Facility I worked at, but it had been worth it. Once I’d gotten the shells, I’d polished them until they were glossy and lovely. I’d gotten the leather string from the Tailor in exchange for taking over his daughter’s work shift on her birthday. I’d put the necklace together in the woods, careful to keep it out of Cypress’ sight. She had a knack for finding her birthday and Christmas presents before the time came to open them.
I wrapped the necklace up again, and took out the third item.

Last Edit: Feb 7, 2010 22:46:36 GMT -5 by tardisgirl

Iris Brookside -- Age 14--- District 5 -- The Tribute.

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Memories of Home. (Closed). Feb 8, 2010 18:57:27 GMT -5

Post by tardisgirl on Feb 8, 2010 18:57:27 GMT -5

The best Christmas ever: Part 4

It was my mother’s present. A picture. It’d taken me months to get the colors I needed, even though they were just red, blue, and yellow, since out of those three all other colors can be made, with the exception of white which I had to get separately. I painted it out in my little glen in the woods. I made all my gifts there, on a big sycamore who’s trunk stretched out nice and flatly into the wide stream a good sit feet before it lifted its trunk toward the sky. I had thought for a long time of what to draw while getting my paints, and eventually decided on a family portrait. It was a good choice too, since that was the last Christmas I had with my father, and ended up being the only picture we had of him, photographs being far to expensive.
It was good; I took such time sketching their faces and features that it was almost as accurate as a photo. My mom told me later, after my father’s death, that it was even better. Because I’d drawn them with love, and I’d drawn them with more life then any photo could give a person.
It took me a long time to draw, paint, shade, and detail the painting just right, but in the end I was happy with it. Happy with everything from My dad’s twinkling eyes, to that little piece of hair that always used to, and still does, fall in my face, to the perk of Flash, my birthday puppy’s, ears.
After surveying it once more, just to make sure it was as good as I thought, I wrapped it carefully and put it back under the bed. Then I pulled out my father's present.

Last Edit: Feb 8, 2010 18:58:45 GMT -5 by tardisgirl

Iris Brookside -- Age 14--- District 5 -- The Tribute.

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Memories of Home. (Closed). Feb 8, 2010 21:06:29 GMT -5

Post by tardisgirl on Feb 8, 2010 21:06:29 GMT -5

The best Christmas ever: Part 5

It was a collection of six smooth stones. All oval shaped, nicely rounded and smoothed, and polished until they almost sparkled. On top of each one of them I’d painted a mythical creature. On the first was a lovely magenta dragon in a cave full of treasure, who was sitting on a pile of gold and jewels with her wings extended. Smoke was coming from her nostrils.

Iris Brookside -- Age 14--- District 5 -- The Tribute.

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Memories of Home. (Closed). Feb 8, 2010 21:07:54 GMT -5

Post by tardisgirl on Feb 8, 2010 21:07:54 GMT -5

The best Christmas ever: Part 6

The second was a unicorn, tall, majestic, it looked a like a part horse, part goat creature, just like it was traditionally drawn. Most majestic with it’s gleaming horn. It was standing on the edge of a stream, deep in the woods, sideways to the viewer, except it had craned its head around to look straight at you.

Iris Brookside -- Age 14--- District 5 -- The Tribute.

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Memories of Home. (Closed). Feb 8, 2010 22:03:45 GMT -5

Post by tardisgirl on Feb 8, 2010 22:03:45 GMT -5

The best Christmas ever: Part 7

The third was a griffin, flying high above an open plain full of swaying grasses. It was colored a mixture of browns, glossy, and sharp. It's wings were stretched out in full flight, it's claws tucked up under it's belly, and its black eyes searched for something in the grass bellow.

Iris Brookside -- Age 14--- District 5 -- The Tribute.

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Memories of Home. (Closed). Feb 8, 2010 22:21:17 GMT -5

Post by tardisgirl on Feb 8, 2010 22:21:17 GMT -5

The best Christmas ever: Part 8

Fourth was a djinn, its lamp a dull brass that stood out in comparison to glistening gold treasures around it. The djinn was a strong, yet nice, looking man with a turban on his head. His body was the consistency of a cloud, and colored a deep blue.

Iris Brookside -- Age 14--- District 5 -- The Tribute.

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Memories of Home. (Closed). Feb 8, 2010 22:25:42 GMT -5

Post by tardisgirl on Feb 8, 2010 22:25:42 GMT -5

The best Christmas ever: Part 9

Fifth came a dryad. She was looking cautiously out from her free, only her top half was visible, the rest of her still morphed with the sycamore. She was a lovely light green with dark green accents, kind eyes, and flowers in her long hair. She was the consistency of whips of smoke.

Iris Brookside -- Age 14--- District 5 -- The Tribute.

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Memories of Home. (Closed). Feb 8, 2010 22:34:56 GMT -5

Post by tardisgirl on Feb 8, 2010 22:34:56 GMT -5

The best Christmas ever: Part 10

Sixth and last came a mermaid. Lovely, with jet black hair, red lips, bright blue eyes, and a polished red tail that sparkled playfully in the sun. She was hanging onto the edge of a ship with deep brown railing, she had just been curiously watching the people on the ship, but turned her head toward the sea for just a moment to watch the shimmering blue waves that reflected the sparkling night sky.
I sighed, they were so lovely. I hoped my father would love them.
I barely had had time to hide all the presents again when I hear my mother calling me to bring the evergreen branch in there so we could set it up and decorate it. I grinned and ran out to join them, the thrill of my first Christmas tree filling me.

Iris Brookside -- Age 14--- District 5 -- The Tribute.