golden tears [aza]

I'd always liked going on walks. It takes my mind off of things; turns me towards the light. The hardships my father puts people through just makes me want to walk away from him. The relentlessness, the agony and exploitation makes my heart skip a beat and thus, it hurts. Walking the old roads and paths that runs through the district like doodles on a page clears my clouded mind and lets the sun in.

I find myself in the thick of it. The wilderness creeping in from beyond the fence, the paths becoming thinner and thinner because people do not walk this far into the district. The heart of Seven was found in the bustling communities around the town square; the bright eyes of those who are happy no matter what is in their pockets. They have something that is priceless, something that I take for granted: family.

Bound to them forever, it is a tie you cannot cut. I don't want to cut it, though, I just want to turn the knot into a bow. Change is necessary when you are my age because you are growing up. It is important.

Stopping in my tracks, I look to a boy with a shovel, digging away at the ground beneath him. He lifts his head, looking up and I think he's seen me.

"You lost ma'am?" He shouts from across the way.

"Not necessarily." I tell him. You can't get lost in the place you call home. "I didn't realise people worked out here." I walk towards him, eyeing the scattered tools, hole in the ground and pile of dirt beside him. It takes a second for two and two to be put together, my mind clicks, body language shifts and I feel a little uneasy -- but I'm okay.

He looks tired and alone. These traits are traits that I am familiar with, sadly, for I have seen them be replayed over and over again on the faces of Daddy's workers. I lead from the heart and not the head, I think that it is for the best considering that the majority of them only need a little bit of heart to be cured. A little bit of heart, a dash of respect and someone to call a friend is all that really matters.

"Been working here for over a year you see." I nod slowly. The nature of the job isn't too pretty, but I supposed that someone has to do the unpretty jobs. Things aren't always gold and silver, there is so much more to the world than the luxuries I have lived with and the riches kept in the safe hidden behind the family portrait. There are people that keep the world turning, the forgotten ones, the ones who deserve more than they get.

"Tough job but someone's gotta do it. Take a look if you want, just stay respectful."

"Okay." I peer into the hole. A small boy, he can't be much older than twelve. It looks as if he has had the world on his shoulders. I sigh because no one should feel such pressure, especially not at that age. I look down, pressing my lips together before turning back to the man.

"That's sad. It is barely a life when people die that young." I say, a hand raised to rub my neck. "How do you do it?" My heart would sink to the bottom of the ocean if I had to see this sight every single day. It must be hard for him, gravedigger, watching lives come and go as if they weren't really lived at all. 

He opens up to me. It takes guts to tell someone your history, especially when it has the potential to bring great pain. Hurt can spur you forth, make you want to make something of your life, though, and there is always a light at the end of a tunnel, no matter how long said tunnel is.

"My dad was shot by the peacekeepers' last year." His gaze is like concrete, stone as he stares only at the hole in the ground that is filled with the boy's body. "I dug his grave 'cause I felt like I owed  it to him, I wouldn't have his grave be anything but perfect, y'see."

"I see." I frown a little; sad stories make my heartstrings fray slightly. 

"I got to thinking of all the thousands who die every year in this district, be it from the games or other causes and I remembered how much I just couldn't bare the thought of his memory being anything but perfect and if there's any way I can help families not have any regrets, even if it's as simple as knowing their loved one has a decent final resting place, then I'm happy to help."

He slings another heap of soil onto the grave. "Nothing else matters here; I don't care if someone's rich or poor, good or evil, young or old; everyone deserves a decent resting place."

"I think you're brave. Not only for digging your own father's grave, but for honouring those you didn't even know." I frown slightly, looking to the ground. "You're a good man, doing what you do. People like you deserve so much more." Happiness; he brings happiness to those lost in the dark. He is the solace people desire when they are touched by death and I think it is admirable that he does this for other people, not himself. Selfless acts are what make the world go round.

"I'm Diana. What's your name?"

"Travis O'Milton," he says swiftly. He gives a pleasant nod, a smile and I can only do the same in return. "Out of interest, what's a girl like you doing in a field of lost souls like this?"

"I like to see the world and meet the people in it." I am led by my heart and not my head; whilst it may not be wise for me to be wandering aimlessly through Seven all day and night, I know that company can be everything to people who have next to nothing. If I am going to become the princess I want to be -- and not just Daddy's little princess -- I have to know the people and they have to know me. No facade or wall between us, just a line drawn to connect the two dots together.

"Sometimes I think people forget about one another. They need to be reminded that some people do care, and that Seven isn't just a district, it is a community." My fingers move to my hair, fingers twisting a few locks around before braiding it slowly into a plait. "We all get caught up in the games, in business and forget about what makes Seven, Seven."

I look up to him, back to the boy in the grave and then to Travis again. "And that is the people."

Because even when people have nothing, they have something in someone else and that can be everything. Loneliness, feeling unloved; it is no different to diseases and illnesses that spread and cripple those who have weak hearts.

"I guess I just like to let people know that if they are in distress, they can call on me. I will come running wherever they are."

Travis nods along with my words. I give half a smile; I am glad that the words mean something, and that he could tell I was being honest and true.

"I suppose you're right, even I'm guilty of this from time to time. It's easy to become so focused on work and feeding your family." And that is exactly it---we fail to look past our close circles to the larger ones. Seven is one big family and a family doesn't work unless there is love. "Now wouldn't the world be a much better place if more people thought like you?" I let out a breath of laughter, watching as Travis continues to pile the dirt up high. "Then maybe I wouldn't have to dig so many graves."

I look at him, I can tell that he is hurting. Everybody is hurting somehow, sometimes, but part of me thinks that he is one of the people that hurts the most. Not because he is weak or paper, but because of how he lives. He's toughened himself up, tried to rounded the sharp edges so that his mind is blunt and he can take what comes and watch what goes. Sometimes, people just need to let themselves feel.

"Things will get better. I know it." Things don't have to be dull or miserable, they can be spun into something new, something good. But it took this long for Seven to find someone live me, someone who actually cares about those who are so often forgotten about. Maybe it will be another seventy-six years before there is someone like me, or maybe I'll just have to work harder to make people live my truth.

"One day, everyone will care a little bit more. And that will change the world." If we give a little love, the world can be changed. It just takes one to spark to chain reaction, and that one is me. "Two things in this world are stone. Kindness and courage. That is all it takes."

His weight shifts into the shovel and he laughs.

"Optimism is impressive in this day and age," he looks to the ground, and then back up. I guess that he is right. With all that goes on regarding the games, people seem to lose hope far easier than they can gain it. "Courage and kindness is harder to find than you think, y'know," he sighs, eyes sinking to the boy in the grave.

"But still, I pray that you're right, for everyone's sake." I nod along.

"Got a spare shovel? I'll help you, if you like." I look around for another but can't find one --- perhaps all Travis needs is a bit of help himself to make him realise that courage and kindness aren't an ocean away. I think that he has already found courage, close to home, right in his chest; he speaks so openly and freely about his father's passing and continues to do such a treacherous job despite it being so raw for him.

Kindness? It only takes a second to find it because it is innate. It is within, and if you want it, you only need to be it.