Escape ((Heartwood))

I have many spots in the district where I go to think, free from the packs of flirtatious girls and arrogant boys. I walk carefully through the trees, there are branches hanging down, and if I’m not careful, I can scratch my face or worse, lose an eyeball. I think that happened to a kid once, I’m not sure.

I have work soon, I can tell by the way the suns positioned over the clearing just a few feet ahead. The center of the clearing is beautiful, decorated with flowers, dandelions or lilies, I’m not sure, I just know their color seems to be a more brilliant version of my pale skin. Not that I’m uninterested in beauty, but I only have about an hour and a half before work starts, and I need to find a spot to continue my writing.

I come up to a nice big Oak tree; the branches look strong enough to sustain my weight. I toss my pouch over my shoulder and begin climbing until I reach what I deem as the strongest branch. I sit, open my pouch, take the small wooden bowl, the small sack of blackberries, and I snap a twig nearby to begin my writing.

I remove a thin, self-sliced piece of bark. I had gotten good at smoothing out one of the sides for writing; after all, I’d been doing this for years. I draw a blank, today lacked inspiration, I’d already written about the Hunger Games, the suicidal drunkard, and the girl with the interesting black eyes. I begin to drift off to sleep.

I’m nearly passed out, when a girl reaches the clearing, she’s of breath, and cut on her face. At least she hasn’t lost an eyeball.

Recently, the odds of me meeting new people seem to have increased, whether I’ve wanted it or not. The girl comes, surely not noticing me, and puts her back to the tree, closing her eyes. I can’t tell if she’s trying to sleep, but if she is, she’s going to be there a while, and I have work in about an hour. I shuffle just a bit, before the smoothed out piece of bark begins to fall.

”Um, look out!” Why did I yell? It couldn’t possibly hurt that much, it’s only bark…so much for avoiding contact.

“Sorry, for a second there I thought it would hurt. Then I realized it wouldn’t.”

I hoist my materials back into the bag and slink it over my shoulder. Grabbing the branch that I’m sitting on, I let my legs hang before swinging to another branch. I must look like some kind of pale monkey to this girl, but it was way better than falling. As I swing from branch to branch, I reach a distance I feel is safe to jump from. I make sure to jump a considerable distance away from her.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

I look at the bark she’s holding before digging in my back, pulling out a small bandage, but it’s still big enough to cover the cut on her face. I nod to the bark. I want it back; it takes a while to flatten it perfectly.

“I’ll trade you.”

It seemed like we were doing something illegal. The transaction was so hesitant, and the goods were traded so gingerly that it seemed like she was afraid of me. I suppose normal people don’t just travel the forest on a whim; people in district seven are much more preoccupied with working to support their families.

I look at the bark and slip it back into my pack. I turn my gaze back to Briar. It seems like everyone I meet is sad or disinterested for some reason. This really shouldn’t surprise me; I’m this way myself. It really says a lot about the state of Panem today. I look to her arms, and they seemed to be bruised, but fading.

“Are you okay?”

I guess that was a fair enough answer. She didn’t really seem to be the type to avoid branches; and the cuts and bruises proved it. What made her run so hard in the first place? Before I really have time to think about it, she asks me a question.

“What are you doing out here? In a tree.”

While it was a slightly hostile tone, I imagine she just didn’t want elaborate, and I’m not the type to try to force her. As for the question, it wasn’t one that I wasn’t used to hearing. I spend a lot of time in trees; I guess I liked spending my time in the branches, instead of on the ground near the stumps. I’ve always hated my name.

“I come here to think, and to write. And…I guess I like climbing.”

I watch as she puts the bandage on her face. People should really be more careful. I realize we haven’t introduced ourselves yet.

"My name is Stump."