The night has ears [Nightshade]
Jun 4, 2012 21:37:21 GMT -5
Post by Michy on Jun 4, 2012 21:37:21 GMT -5
The day has eyes; the night has ears. ~David Fergusson
People often thought that District 11 was covered entirely by vast acres of orchards, fields, and farms of grain and agricultural produce. Not that they were very far off the mark: this was true for almost all of it, save for Lylia's backyard. Where the orchards containing all fruits imaginable ended, somewhere close to the 30-metre high fence that marked out the border of the district, there stretched a small patch of woodlands. These had been left untouched by the mass land clearings they'd had at the start of the Capitol'sagricultural expansion project, yet another bid to increase food production.
It was highly unusual to have had the Peacekeepers miss this place completely - but then again, it was a little less so if one regarded the circumstances that surrounded her family. The project occurred just after Lylia was born - when the gossip was at its most cruel and imaginative. Rumours circulated about her having been the seed of a witch, or that terrible things happened if you stared too long at her pale skin because she was a ghost. Perhaps, then, the avoidance of that patch of woods behind her house was a little more than accidental.
The same could be said about them not having forced her to work in the fields or orchards like so many of the others. While she was nimble and able, the Peacekeepers seemed almost unwilling to stand watch over her in the night to ensure she participated in the planting or crop upkeep. Despite their numbers, their strict rules and enforcement practices, none of them really seemed to care about that little girl who never appeared in the daytime because she simply couldn't. Perhaps the arrangement of having extra Peacekeepers sacrifice their sleep to monitor one girl's work was a bit too bothersome. Or that one less pair of hands, those of a frail 12-year-old's, was negligible, almost.
Or (and this one seemed to be a bit more plausible, she thought) they had actually wanted to remove her from society. Perhaps the very presence of her and her disability, being forced to work in the fields, would trigger someone to realise the unfairness of the situation and prompt emotions strong enough to cause a rebellion. Hence: out of sight, out of mind.
This was something the Skylers could be grateful for, at least. They would awaken to something on the table each morning: a clump of wood sorrel and a bowl of mashed wild berries; a mishmash of edible roots and herbs, and sometimes, if Lylia felt brave enough to sneak into a field on her way back from night classes, a few stalks of grain. Some of these the twelve-year-old ate for her late night 'dinner', but she saved most for her parents and sister. They weren't spared from hunger this way, but at least things were better.
She had some of these now, her pockets stuffed with berries and edible roots as she made her way silently back across the woods. The sudden rustle of the nearby bushes would have ordinarily made her run away, but that night she thought nothing of it - just a wild rabbit perhaps - until she saw a shadow emerge from it, freezing her in her tracks.
