Sneaking Out (OpEn)

Hanna Cherub

Step by step, I slowly make my way through the mossy cobblestones, slick with the icy frost that melts under my feet. I used to take these walks with my best friend, Basil, but then she left me for her work. I know that her family needs her to have a job, but I can’t help feeling a little neglected. I mean, who wouldn’t? I accidently step on the back of May’s shoe, who has been walking along silently in front of me. May. My little 13 year-old sister. Just last year, her first Reaping, she found that life really isn’t all that great. Normally, she would be rambling on and on about something by now, but she stays quiet. My guess is that she is nervous about the Reaping, I am too. Although she is quiet now, I still wish I was walking alone, or better yet, with Basil. No offense to her, but her presence seems to poison the tranquility of the chilly winter night.

We walk on and I stuff my small hands further into my winter coat, or rather, my mom’s. May is wearing mine at the moment. Before I know it, we are at the borderline of the district, aka: The Fence. I always stare out into the woods beyond, and try to imagine what they must be like now, since my last visit years ago. Yes, I admit, I was a rebel who wandered into the woods. Of course they caught me; I was punished. Just thinking of the blood on my wrists and ankles makes me shiver. But do I regret it? Not at all.

This is the time that I – or, we- usually go back, when the last of the stars comes out to shine in the night, and it is so quiet that I can hear the murmuring of the fence, charged with voltage that would knock me all the way to the Capitol. Quiet. I look at May who is surprisingly looking back at me with those inquisitive blue eyes of hers. For once her life, she isn’t talking. I need to take these walks with her more often!

Just as we are turning a corner on the way back to our house near the middle of the district, I see a small figure sitting down, looking at the ground. From where I can see, the figure - a child – seems to be about May’s age, around 12 or 13. I purposely cast my shadow from the dimming street light over the child, to get their attention without startling them. “Hello?” I ask and May looks at them, quiet as can be, her eyes catching the rays of the far off stars.


OOC: I'm guessing that you will probably want to Rp with May because she is younger, but I don't have her approved as a character yet... I'll let you know when she is!

“Oh, hi. I was just out for a run.” The girl says, quite proud. At first I am taken aback at how… independent this young girl sounds. Her stature certainly doesn’t tell the whole story. I smile broadly when I hear that she was out for a run.

“Me too,” I say, forgetting that I was there with May. “Or, actually, I was walking, but, you get the picture.” I flash a smile her way to let her know that I am friendly, but what I really want is to know who she is, and why she’s out here in the middle of the night. She may very well be thinking the same thing about myself, but I’m older than she is, and I have company.

I take a step closer into the streetlight so I can see her better, and she can see me. May stays back in the shadows, obviously shy about meeting someone. It’s strange, really, how I am an extrovert, and my sister is an introvert. Like day and night, we are.

“So, what’s your name?” I ask, trying not to sound as suspicious as I seem. Trust me, I know the rules about curfew hours well enough, but I know how to get past them. This girl might not.

Lacey started laughing as soon as I made my statement, but my guess is that she was just relieved. I laugh a little too, but I’m not sure why.

“I would never turn someone in,” she says, “only if like they murdered someone.” At the word murder, I flinch and look at May, whom I know is still sensitive about what happened to her best friend. I immediately see a silent tear slide down her cheek, but she brushes it off and continues to listen to the girl, who begins to add more to her story about what she was doing out here this late.

"My parents own the tailor shop and they were busy so I decided to go on a run, or just somewhere else while I waited for them to finish." she says."They don't care though, they rarely want my help.”

I can’t help but feel bad for this girl, who must feel neglected by her parents. I suddenly think that I am lucky to have such a supporting family as I do. Who knows what this girl must go through on a daily basis. She might lead a normal life, like my own, warm, cozy, and free of danger. But like most residents of District 9, that lifestyle is a rarity, given to only a few select families which will feel outcasted for the rest of their lives. My family. I have a sense that this girl isn’t telling the whole truth, so I raise my eyebrow and bend my knee to the side, to show my not falling for what I’m pretty sure is a lie. Or at least not the whole truth.

May obviously doesn’t believe the girl either, and we look at each other, nearly reading the other’s mind. This girl is a fraud. She’s hiding something. Lacey looks down and draws a star in the dust with the point of her shoe, surely avoiding our eye contact. May crosses her arms, remaining as silent as I have ever seen her.

“What are you really doing out here?” I ask. If this girl was trying to hide a lie, she wasn’t very good at it. I am going to find out what this girl is really thinking, and no one can tell me otherwise. I flip my hair defiantly, although I’m not really sure what I’m defiant about.


OOC: I made May's bio, but now I have to wait for it to be accepted... hopefully by the end of the day!

Hanna Cherub

As Lacey tells her story, the story that I made her tell, I realize just how small and frail she is. I didn’t know how much pain this young girl had to go through. It may be just because I lead a very sheltered and safe life, but I’m pretty sure that most 12 –year-olds don’t have to go through what she does. She sighs, long and deep, at the end of her emotional statement, and it looks like she’s about to cry. I suddenly feel guilty for bombarding her with questions like I did, and I want to take them all back, just like that.

Before I get a chance to apologize, which I was very near to doing, her face lightens a little bit. I must not have bothered her that badly, but my conscience is still weighed down with the regret of always pushing people to their limits. I let my arms down and squat down on my knees, eye level to the girl. “Are you OK?” I ask. But before she gets a chance to answer, May comes bolting out of the shadows, her golden hair shining under the streetlight, a look of fear on her face, and her fists are clenched with anger.

---

May Cherub

“Peacekeepers!” I whisper into Hanna’s ear, not seconds after I saw the gleaming uniforms myself. They were around the corner, doing a nightly raid on a house, probably a criminal or a suspect. That’s what we get for messing with the law around here. I point to where they were, and explain that they are nearing our corner, and trust me, right under a street light past curfew is no place to be a with a herd of tired, and probably drunk, Peacekeepers right around the corner, heading your way. Now, we can easily hear the stomping of their feet, the clanking of their shiny silver badges against one another, and the stern shouts thrown between the soldier-like men, marching uniformly in the night.

I look around for somewhere to hide, adrenaline rushing, palms sweating. I see nothing, nowhere, just a street, and a dead-end branching off from it. We are trapped on the cobblestones, and are forced to listen to the clanking come closer our way. I look over at Hanna, who fearfully looks down at her wrists, which bear scars that are a constant reminder of her last run in with the Peacekeepers. The stakes are much higher for her, as she doesn’t have a clean record. Nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, nothing to separate me from them, nothing to stop my heart from pounding right out of my chest.