A light in the dust (open to anyone)
Nov 21, 2010 13:42:55 GMT -5
Post by kahdaleagirl42 on Nov 21, 2010 13:42:55 GMT -5
Layla woke up in her small bed that creaked as she moved to get up. The early dawn sun poured in through the many cracks in the home blinds that did their best to cover the dusty, rusted windows. She blinked against a ray that caught her eye and ruffled her nappy hair and clipped it into a messy bun. She got up and quickly slipped on her clothes for the day. She reached for her tool belt which hung over the coat peg. As Layla walked down the short flight of stairs she took one last glance at the bedroom. The twins were still out cold. Their school work was becoming longer and harder everyday. But they could make it. They were strong just like her and her brother. Then she noticed her older brother, Marcus's bed was empty like always too. He had to get to work before the sun even shone it's face above the horizon. She looked down at her wrist where his bracelet hung. He would be back.
Once she had gone out to their measly garden and picked a few potatoes and gotten some water from their old well which like all the others, wasn't the freshest or cleanest, she ate and set some other food out for the twins and walked out the door, just remembering to grab jacket as the november winds slapped her face. It was her bothers old bomber jacket that he had outgrown, but it hung loose on Layla's small frame.
The air outside was dry and smelt of sawdust as usual, the sun cut through it like a knife. She walked down the rickety steps of the porch and out onto the road. Other people were leaving their houses too. Most were about her age because the adults had left earlier. Her boots left their mark in the dirt that scattered the streets where no car had drove on in years. As she walked along, the town square came into sight. There, the workers her age were gathering for the days assignment.
She put a hand on her trusty axe that she had made herself and took everywhere. The groups of teens walked down a dirt road to where a forest stood looming. The group walked away with their heads down. She hated it too. Having to work constantly for the capitol with just a few measly dollars a month to reward them, if anything. It made her sick. But things could be worse as she was constantly reminded. Farewell posters were pasted across the street with pictures of the two tributes from District 7 who had died in the games. The main TV in the town square was showing live footage, but Layla just kept walking, refusing to pay attention to the sick propaganda they were forced to watch every time they left their homes.
When they reached the forest, the path was cleared by the many trees that had already been cut. From above, the place looked like a huge bite had been taken out of it. The trees in front of them towered high, blotting out the early morning sun, the smell of wood engulfed the crowd. "Everyone go to work! Find a partner and pick a tree. You all have to reach your quota if you want your month's paycheck!" shouted a nearby peacekeeper. Some of the peacekeeper in district 7 would work more as bosses or task managers. "Yeah, because the capitol pays us so well." she muttered with bitter sarcasm. People were breaking up into pairs and Layla looked for someone to work with.
Once she had gone out to their measly garden and picked a few potatoes and gotten some water from their old well which like all the others, wasn't the freshest or cleanest, she ate and set some other food out for the twins and walked out the door, just remembering to grab jacket as the november winds slapped her face. It was her bothers old bomber jacket that he had outgrown, but it hung loose on Layla's small frame.
The air outside was dry and smelt of sawdust as usual, the sun cut through it like a knife. She walked down the rickety steps of the porch and out onto the road. Other people were leaving their houses too. Most were about her age because the adults had left earlier. Her boots left their mark in the dirt that scattered the streets where no car had drove on in years. As she walked along, the town square came into sight. There, the workers her age were gathering for the days assignment.
She put a hand on her trusty axe that she had made herself and took everywhere. The groups of teens walked down a dirt road to where a forest stood looming. The group walked away with their heads down. She hated it too. Having to work constantly for the capitol with just a few measly dollars a month to reward them, if anything. It made her sick. But things could be worse as she was constantly reminded. Farewell posters were pasted across the street with pictures of the two tributes from District 7 who had died in the games. The main TV in the town square was showing live footage, but Layla just kept walking, refusing to pay attention to the sick propaganda they were forced to watch every time they left their homes.
When they reached the forest, the path was cleared by the many trees that had already been cut. From above, the place looked like a huge bite had been taken out of it. The trees in front of them towered high, blotting out the early morning sun, the smell of wood engulfed the crowd. "Everyone go to work! Find a partner and pick a tree. You all have to reach your quota if you want your month's paycheck!" shouted a nearby peacekeeper. Some of the peacekeeper in district 7 would work more as bosses or task managers. "Yeah, because the capitol pays us so well." she muttered with bitter sarcasm. People were breaking up into pairs and Layla looked for someone to work with.
