Imagine Life {Fei/Shiloh}

Imagine Life {Fei/Shiloh} Jun 11, 2019 9:50:35 GMT -5

Post by kap on Jun 11, 2019 9:50:35 GMT -5

F E I
✢
L E U N G

~
Imagine life was a little box,
with a key it's locked, from the outside
~

I'm someone who really likes kids. I'm not quite sure why, but I suppose I've always been that way. I'm good with them, too. They almost always seem to like me, and I know how to communicate with them pretty well. I suppose that may be because they're one of the few groups of people in life who I don't feel like I have to impress. Kids are impressed a lot easier than teenagers and adults. With four sisters and five brothers, I've been around kids a lot during my life, as some of them are younger than me. The younger they are, the better I seem to get along with them.

I just hope that someday, I can make friends with people my age, too.

As I walk down the streets of District Twelve, leaving my home to go for a stroll and let myself relax, I find myself being a bit of a people watcher. When I get stressed, I like to go out and walk around to calm myself down, and things were starting to get a bit chaotic and stressful at home, meaning that I wanted to get out of the house. The people I see passing me by on this sunny Saturday morning are all so different, yet, in a way, they're all so much alike. Even though everyone looks different and may have different reasons for going to the different places they're going to, we're all quite the same in the aspect of all being citizens of District Twelve, within the Capitol's grasp and command.

In a way, all we're really doing in our day to day lives is serving the people of the Capitol, and most of all, President Snow.

Regardless, I try to pay more attention to the differences in the people that I see as I walk, rather than the similarities. I've always been different than the people that I meet in quite a few ways, but I suppose most people would be like that anyway. What would be the point in everyone being the same, anyway?

During my walk, I see a girl, or perhaps I should say young woman, who looks to be perhaps a couple years older than myself, along with a young girl who was likely about a year or so old. It makes me wonder what their connection to one another is. Was she babysitting the young girl? Were they older and younger sister, perhaps? Maybe they were even mother and daughter. For some reason, that last reason sounded right to me. It also appeared to me that, maybe they weren't the poorest of the poor, but they weren't quite at the wealth status of my own family.

If they truly were mother and daughter, I wondered what I could do to help. Deciding to approach them, I was polite in the way that I spoke.

"Excuse me?" I said to the young woman. "Is she yours? She's beautiful."

~
And picture life as you wanted it,
Let's not be hard on it, on the inside
~

word count: 486
lyrics: "Imagine Life" by Thirteen Senses
goat

Imagine Life {Fei/Shiloh} Jun 12, 2019 23:35:16 GMT -5

Post by goat on Jun 12, 2019 23:35:16 GMT -5

shiloh quesinberry

It seemed that the sun had finally decided to return to District Twelve. It brought the expected things with it— the heat, the rays of light, the occasional slow breeze shifting through the warm winds. Shiloh, like many others, found herself gravitating more and more toward the outside in this weather. She liked to sit on her porch and lean back, let the sunshine dance over her face. Last summer, Sienna had been much too young to do anything, but she was just over a year old now. She could toddle around on shaky legs and grasp things in her chubby fists.

The other night, Shiloh had taken her for a walk and let her pull out flowers from the ground. They’d found a place to sit in the grass, and when she dropped all of the clumsily picked flowers into Shiloh’s lap, Shiloh had wanted to cry. Her daughter was growing older. Soon, she would be able to speak more than a few words, and one day she would be able to walk without holding her hand. She didn’t know how she was supposed to prepare for that.

That morning, she sat on one side of the porch while Sienna did her best to walk around the other. She’d brought out some chalk for Sienna to play with and watched as she picked up the sticks and dragged them across the wood. She figured with a few more years, she’d be able to produce some less abstract artwork. Or, maybe she wouldn’t, if she decided art wasn’t her thing. Shiloh didn’t want to impose anything on her. She just wanted her to be, however she decided to be.

Sienna dropped the pink chalk in her hand and it rolled, tumbling down the porch steps. Her face twisted like she was about to cry. “Oh, jeez,” Shiloh said, under her breath. Babies were so temperamental. She pushed herself to her feet, scooped her daughter up so she was propped on her hip, and took her down the steps. She crouched down so Sienna could pick up the chalk herself. “There you go,” she said, as her tiny fist closed around the stick. “See? Chalk’s back.”

“Excuse me?”

Shiloh looked up. There was a girl standing there, likely a bit younger than she was. She braced herself for whatever the girl might say next, most likely something judgemental, like aren’t you a little too young to have a child? “Is she yours? She's beautiful.”

“Oh,” Shiloh said, feeling a blush creep across her face. “Um, yes, she’s all mine. Thank you.”

Sienna babbled incomprehensibly and waved the chalk around. Shiloh smiled. “She’s quite the budding artist, as you can see.”