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Forever Not For Better | Zoe
Apr 22, 2013 4:08:36 GMT -5
Post by [ retro gm ] angel lí ✨ on Apr 22, 2013 4:08:36 GMT -5
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"Flynn?" my mother called this morning, ever-so anxious as she is around Games time when the tension high and forgiveness low, "Could you watch the kids for me today?"
She asks like it's something of a favour to do. And I suppose it is, in a way, but a favour is something you do for someone because they've asked you, and you'd really rather not do it had they not asked first - and I would have given up all of my time just to take care of my siblings. (I usually do, but that's beside the point.) It's my favourite thing to do - the only downside being that I only have one set of eyes and 4 little children who are constantly on-the-go.
So we sit outside, grateful for the pleasant spring morning, as four pairs of energetic legs run around and around. It's hard to keep up with one of them, let alone four, but good practice, patience and the ability to let yourself see through their eyes for a few hours usually does the trick. Sometimes, if I let myself, I can almost be convinced that there is no danger that lies outside of our home. That there are no Games, no Peacekeepers ready to shoot anyone who sets a toe out of line, nobody who wouldn't think twice about harming a little child who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. God help them when I'm older and working and all their names are in that dreadful barrel of paper slips and death.
"Let's play hide and seeeeek!" Carlie shrieks, followed by a chorus of agreeable cheering - and then the inevitable battle for who should count. "I'm counting!" "No I am!" "Bella you can't count" "Yes I caaan!" "No you caaan't!" "I go to school I can count!" "Lee, I go too school dummy" "No I'm counting!" It's the same process and we've been through it countless times, but I image that their brains are too busy absorbing the world around them to remember that I'm always the one who ends up counting to stop the drizzle of argument turning into a hurricane. So here I stand, with my hands over my face to shield them from my view (but a crack in my fingers makes sure that I never really take my eyes off of them) counting to twenty. I do jog their memories, however, into learning the most important rule of the house. "What's the number one thing we have to do when playing hide and seek?" I ask, my tone serious. "Never step over the fence line" they recite back, and a smile hides the thought of any of my siblings getting hurt. It's for their own good, after all.
"Ready or not, here I come!" I announce - and the hunt is on. Although it's not a hard task, for after a few minutes of rounding the house a burst of giggles erupts from underneath the roof of an empty apple crate. Lifting it up, I uncover three little heads of blonde hair, bodies shaking with laughter and squeals.
"Found you!"
Grinning, I lift each one of them out and place them on the ground, their tiny bodies still trembling with laughter. Only Jakob has stopped laughing, his eyes disdain and frantic, and I can tell the moment I count their heads that something isn't right. Crouching down next to the twins, I lower my voice softly. "Jake? Where's Bella?"
He doesn't answer.
The twins now both turn to Jakob, mirroring my actions. There is no need for me to panic, but something inside of me twists my stomach and plants worry right in my middle. "Come on Jake, it's ok. Where's Bells?"
"I told her not to," the 5 year old whispers, lip trembling underneath glistening blue eyes whilst the twins grip my arms. Panic pulls a chord in my head and my own arms begin to shake, forcing myself to breathe in and out and in and out because I know exactly what she's done.
"Told her she'd be in trouble..."
He didn't have to finish his sentence. Because that's when I hear a scream.
In a flash, I scoop all three of them up and deposit them at our neighbours, Mrs. Woodley's, who is more than happy to hold on to them on the rare occasions when they become to much to handle. Barely able to choke out a thank you, my arms and legs pump widly, horror-struck thoughts ablaze in my head. There's stories of children being snatched away across the country every year, not just by the reapings. These kids are never seen again, with no chance to say goodbye. Leaping over fences and pastures to where the screams came from, I cannot shut the images out. Bella taken, Bella hurt, Bella found by a Peacekeeper where she shouldn't be, Bella's tongue cut out, Bella shot ohgodohgodohgodohgod I'll never forgive myself. The worst part is that she's only four years old.
I wasn't supposed to worry about their lives for six more years, I wasn't supposed to brace myself for holding onto my parents and siblings and saying goodbye for the last time. And I guess I don't have to worry about that for a while, because in the distance I spot someone with a hold on Bella - and they're not dressed in white with a gun at her head. Only now does relief flood my head - and I'm reminded that in real life I have 4 siblings safe and sound and I have a tendency to trip over things and nobody is going to be hurt under my watch.
Except, of course, myself. After a typical Flynn move of falling over nothing but my own feet, I'm too happy to care about my own safety right now. Hopping up, I scamper over to a tearful Bella and the girl who sat with her, not quite believing my luck.
"Bella?" I query - and seconds later I am greeted with a tear-stained hug and tiny little hands clamped around my neck. Lifting her up as I stand, I turn to the girl and smile bashfully, beginning a fumble of words I attempt to string into a coherent sentence. "I'm so sorry about her, I told her not to go out of the fence, I mean, she doesn't usually, none of them do, sorry... I'm sorry, where am I going with this, I don't..."
Giving up entirely, I shake my head. "Sorry," I apologise for the fourth time and quitting whilst I was ahead. I've never been good at talking to people my age, let alone girls, so this is something new. Sticking to my forte of short sentences and manners, I stick out my free hand to help the girl up with a smile. "I'm Flynn - and this is my sister Bella."
ooc; wow this reply is so terribly late, i'm so sorry for the wait! :x
[/size][/blockquote][/size][/color][/td][/tr][/td][/tr][/table][/center]She asks like it's something of a favour to do. And I suppose it is, in a way, but a favour is something you do for someone because they've asked you, and you'd really rather not do it had they not asked first - and I would have given up all of my time just to take care of my siblings. (I usually do, but that's beside the point.) It's my favourite thing to do - the only downside being that I only have one set of eyes and 4 little children who are constantly on-the-go.
So we sit outside, grateful for the pleasant spring morning, as four pairs of energetic legs run around and around. It's hard to keep up with one of them, let alone four, but good practice, patience and the ability to let yourself see through their eyes for a few hours usually does the trick. Sometimes, if I let myself, I can almost be convinced that there is no danger that lies outside of our home. That there are no Games, no Peacekeepers ready to shoot anyone who sets a toe out of line, nobody who wouldn't think twice about harming a little child who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. God help them when I'm older and working and all their names are in that dreadful barrel of paper slips and death.
"Let's play hide and seeeeek!" Carlie shrieks, followed by a chorus of agreeable cheering - and then the inevitable battle for who should count. "I'm counting!" "No I am!" "Bella you can't count" "Yes I caaan!" "No you caaan't!" "I go to school I can count!" "Lee, I go too school dummy" "No I'm counting!" It's the same process and we've been through it countless times, but I image that their brains are too busy absorbing the world around them to remember that I'm always the one who ends up counting to stop the drizzle of argument turning into a hurricane. So here I stand, with my hands over my face to shield them from my view (but a crack in my fingers makes sure that I never really take my eyes off of them) counting to twenty. I do jog their memories, however, into learning the most important rule of the house. "What's the number one thing we have to do when playing hide and seek?" I ask, my tone serious. "Never step over the fence line" they recite back, and a smile hides the thought of any of my siblings getting hurt. It's for their own good, after all.
"Ready or not, here I come!" I announce - and the hunt is on. Although it's not a hard task, for after a few minutes of rounding the house a burst of giggles erupts from underneath the roof of an empty apple crate. Lifting it up, I uncover three little heads of blonde hair, bodies shaking with laughter and squeals.
"Found you!"
Grinning, I lift each one of them out and place them on the ground, their tiny bodies still trembling with laughter. Only Jakob has stopped laughing, his eyes disdain and frantic, and I can tell the moment I count their heads that something isn't right. Crouching down next to the twins, I lower my voice softly. "Jake? Where's Bella?"
He doesn't answer.
The twins now both turn to Jakob, mirroring my actions. There is no need for me to panic, but something inside of me twists my stomach and plants worry right in my middle. "Come on Jake, it's ok. Where's Bells?"
"I told her not to," the 5 year old whispers, lip trembling underneath glistening blue eyes whilst the twins grip my arms. Panic pulls a chord in my head and my own arms begin to shake, forcing myself to breathe in and out and in and out because I know exactly what she's done.
"Told her she'd be in trouble..."
He didn't have to finish his sentence. Because that's when I hear a scream.
In a flash, I scoop all three of them up and deposit them at our neighbours, Mrs. Woodley's, who is more than happy to hold on to them on the rare occasions when they become to much to handle. Barely able to choke out a thank you, my arms and legs pump widly, horror-struck thoughts ablaze in my head. There's stories of children being snatched away across the country every year, not just by the reapings. These kids are never seen again, with no chance to say goodbye. Leaping over fences and pastures to where the screams came from, I cannot shut the images out. Bella taken, Bella hurt, Bella found by a Peacekeeper where she shouldn't be, Bella's tongue cut out, Bella shot ohgodohgodohgodohgod I'll never forgive myself. The worst part is that she's only four years old.
I wasn't supposed to worry about their lives for six more years, I wasn't supposed to brace myself for holding onto my parents and siblings and saying goodbye for the last time. And I guess I don't have to worry about that for a while, because in the distance I spot someone with a hold on Bella - and they're not dressed in white with a gun at her head. Only now does relief flood my head - and I'm reminded that in real life I have 4 siblings safe and sound and I have a tendency to trip over things and nobody is going to be hurt under my watch.
Except, of course, myself. After a typical Flynn move of falling over nothing but my own feet, I'm too happy to care about my own safety right now. Hopping up, I scamper over to a tearful Bella and the girl who sat with her, not quite believing my luck.
"Bella?" I query - and seconds later I am greeted with a tear-stained hug and tiny little hands clamped around my neck. Lifting her up as I stand, I turn to the girl and smile bashfully, beginning a fumble of words I attempt to string into a coherent sentence. "I'm so sorry about her, I told her not to go out of the fence, I mean, she doesn't usually, none of them do, sorry... I'm sorry, where am I going with this, I don't..."
Giving up entirely, I shake my head. "Sorry," I apologise for the fourth time and quitting whilst I was ahead. I've never been good at talking to people my age, let alone girls, so this is something new. Sticking to my forte of short sentences and manners, I stick out my free hand to help the girl up with a smile. "I'm Flynn - and this is my sister Bella."
ooc; wow this reply is so terribly late, i'm so sorry for the wait! :x
