peeling like an onion [morgana, axel]

So what if nothing is safe,
So what if no one is saved?

There's too much to do. I've spent all day working on that damn knitting machine, and there's still at least a day's work to do. And that's assuming I can find the ten or so parts I'm still missing. Not to mention the machine parts for District One I have to fix, and the generator for District Ten, all of which need to be done by the end of the week if I want to get paid something decent. I would have worked longer today, but Kenna complains that I'm not home enough as it is. Plus, I feel bad for leaving Granny home alone all day.

But money. God, I need money. Granny's coat is ten years old, so full of holes and patches that I doubt any of the original is left. I have to buy her a new one, and something for Kenna, too, because hers is getting too small, and I'm still wearing the same one I've had for the last three years. We'll need food soon, so I'll have to scrape up some monay so Kenna can go out and buy it, and maybe get some yarn for Granny while she's at it, so she has something to do other than stare out the window all day -

Deep breath. Calm. I have to stop thinking about this. It's too much, and I need to - what was the word Kenna used? - relax. Right. That word's not exactly in my vocabulary anymore. I don't have time to relax. I have to fix machines, keep Dad's business going, take care of Kenna and Granny. And myself, but honestly, I don't matter. The only reason I need to stick around is so they have some sort of income.

Rain starts pouring from the sky with no warning. Shit. This is the last thing I need. Pulling my jacket up over my head, I rush into the nearest building. Others are doing this too, looking for refuge in the nearest store. I stumble into a bar, already packed. There are the normal bar types here, along with mothers and children on their way home from school. I don't care. It's a bar. I dig a cigarette out of my pocket and light it. If someone complains about it, they can kiss my ass. I haven't had a smoke all day, and we're in a god-damned bar.

I start searching for a table, a seat, or even just a place to lean up against the wall until the rain abates. I hope Kenna got home before this started, or she ducked into a building a bit nicer than a bar. A grocery store, maybe, or a clothing store. Granny won't worry that we're late. She never worries, not since Dad died. She doesn't do much of anything. I can't balme her, though. She's getting up there in years. We can't expect her to take care of us the way she did all those years ago, when Dad was busy in the shop.

As I'm heading over to an empty strtech of wall, I bump into someone. Looking over my shoulder to apoligize, I notice it's a young girl, aroun Kenna's age, maybe younger. And she's asking some guy for his liquor, spouting some shit about being thirsty. I'm not ususally the kind of person to interfere in someone else's life, but this is a little girl. And okay, I'm only a few years older than her, and I can talk, right? Sitting here smoking a cigarette in her face, yeah, I know so much better than she does. But still. She's too young to go down that road.

I grab her arm. "I've been looking for you everywhere. Come on." Tugging her off her chair, I push her forward through the crowd, hiss in her ear, "If you're really thirsty, I'll buy you a water, okay?" When we're far enough away, I let go of the girl. I'd rather not send money on her - God knows I need every penny I have - but it's a small sacrifice to make to stop her from becoming a drunk. Maybe I'm overreacting, I don't know. I just know that if she was my little sister, I'd be glad that someone had dragged her away.