Rebel for a cause...? {wingsonmyheels}

Post by A Toa's Friend (atoafriend) on Jun 25, 2011 19:41:39 GMT -5

The west-side elementary school was built before the rebellion, so it was only a few yards away from the electric fence that surrounded District 10. All these years later, much of the power had been cut off from here to save money to pay more Peacekeepers. After all, it was easy to scare children into not going under.

Those people couldn’t have been more wrong. Patryck had told me that students from the west-side school used to dare each other to go under the dead fence at the edge of the school grounds. Teachers and older students who caught you would merely scold you, for fear if Peacekeepers found out horrible things would happen. There wasn't much to do there except run around, swing, or play simple games of tag, kickball, or duck-duck-goose. Or stand around and talk. There was more opportunity to let your mind wander, to imagine, and take charge of yourself. It made the children from the west-side brash, intelligent, and intuitive.

I lived closer to the east side, so I went to that elementary instead. The east-side families were wealthier, so there were all sorts of jungle gyms, swings, climbing walls, and game courts in the playground. None of us would even think of going past the fence into the wild corn field (which was only a mile from the border) where you could so easily get lost. We were spoiled, arrogant, and gutless. The rich west-side kids never mixed well with the east-side kids when high school came around. I myself acted the way all other west-side kids did…until Fyuori asked me, quite bluntly, why I went along with them. She (along with Patryck and Jaysi) had known me from a special district-wide program for higher-ranking students and knew who I really was: the sight of me being arrogant and stuck-up appalled her.

“You don’t need to act like that all the time, Diet,” she said frankly when we were walking to the cafe. “And here I thought you were actually okay these past few years.” It was enough to make me rethink who I really was. Ironically, it was also what made me something of a rebel. Over the years I felt myself become more liberated and confident in my beliefs. I guess you could say that it doesn’t do me much good. There were plenty of times when I got into a sticky spot with Peacekeepers, and several times when I was caught (or saying something most people wouldn’t), I had a bruise on my face that lasted several days. But the more I got hurt, the more resolute I became in my belief that the Capital’s methods are wrong.

A few weeks ago I heard a rumor going through the marketplace. It was very subtle, but I was able to catch a few lines: rumors of a rebel group called the Uprising. I was so sick of just sitting around. I wanted to do something to defy the tyranny. I decided to join.

“No way!” Fyuori had said, an iron grip on my arms. “No. Way. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? You could be arrested, killed. They could ship you off to some remote place and lock you up and no one will ever see you again. I’m not letting that happen to you, I’m not.”

“But I’m tired of sitting around, doing nothing. I want to help,” I said.

“Oh come on, Diethelm, no one wants some scraggly, naive, idealistic teenager who’s delusioned himself into thinking this fight is for a noble cause.”

“It is for a noble cause!”

“You think you’re fighting for freedom and justice? For the liberation of the districts? For the end of the Games? Do you really think that you can change anything?”

“Of course I do,” I said softly but firmly. “What do you want me to do, just stand here and watch like some idiot all those children just die?”

“Better than being dead yourself!” Fyuori said sharply, her temper rising.

“I can’t live with that. I just can’t.”

“You think that I don’t hate what happens every year? You think I don’t feel sick to my stomach when I stand there and watch as those innocent children slaughter each other? Believe me, I feel hatred beyond what you can even fathom. I would go to hell just to slaughter those monsters who’re murdering us. I would let myself live in an eternal Game, dying over and over again, so other’s won’t have to. But I have a life, a family, friends, other more important things to protect.”

“What on earth’s more important than freedom?” I blurted out.

“I can’t let me waste myself. I can’t go and do something stupid and fight, even if it’s for a noble cause, ‘cause it would only hurt more people, the people I care about. It would destroy everything I knew and I would be accountable for it all.” There was a moment of silence, Fyuori’s glare burning into my defiant one. “Diethelm…you and I come from a well-to-do life. We have parents. We have friends. We go to school. We laugh. These people, who are doing this? They’re rebelling it because they’ve been pushed too far. They have nowhere else to go to, nothing else to live for. They have no family left, no home, no friends, only each other as wary allies and the rebellion. They are prepared to shoulder the burden and hopes of all the districts. People like you and me? We’re better off going about our own business, living for ourselves. People like us aren’t ready to go through all that; we aren’t desperate enough. So forget it.”

I had never heard words like that come from Fyuori. They came from deep somewhere inside her, somewhere that she kept hidden and locked away from the outside world. And I could tell she was upset enough having to stand there every year, dreading Patryck’s, Terry’s, and my name being called up to the stage. So I decided not to upset her any further and promised I wouldn’t think about it anymore.

Unfortunately, the virtue and integrity of west-side kids didn’t apply to me.

So here I was, about to cross under the fence to see for myself if the rumors were true. If there really was, indeed, a rebel outlet just beyond the boundaries of District 10. Sorry, Fyuori, I thought, ducking under the fence and crawling through the small opening. But I have my way of dealing with this.


OOC: Woah, really long post...!