Lotus Brontz D8; Fin

Lotus Brontz D8; Fin Jan 1, 2020 18:49:03 GMT -5

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Post by * on Jan 1, 2020 18:49:03 GMT -5

Lotus Marie Brontz
Age: 12

“I dreamed about that voice again, Jory. It was so sweet, and quiet. It was Cecilia.” Her eyes peered into the eyes of her brother. Jory shifted in his gait stopping at the door and turning back around looking at her with disbelief, but he couldn’t deny her what she thought she heard. He always heard Cecilia sing to her and talk to her for hours. He watched her for the first few months never put her down or leave her to cry it out like their parents wanted. But if she was hearing her voice, then Cecilia was talking to her.

He took a heavy breath in.

“It’s a girl’s voice, Jory. Gentle. Soothing. Something about that voice sings a melody into my ears almost every night and I keep hearing certain words that would repeat.” She knew about his superstitions on death and the afterlife was his way of dealing with her death, even twelve years later. He nodded to her and took her hand in his own. He pulled her into his embrace and he began to weep into her shoulder. He had to bend to do so seeing as she was at least a foot shorter than him. His chest shook with gasps, while her fingers latched together and she whispered something calming into his ear.

“She said she loved you and Jacob and Gage and something about… a violin?” Lotus questioned him and broke the embrace. She didn’t have to say anything more to him because he knew what day it was. This would have been her twenty fourth birthday and instead of celebrating her life, they would once again be meeting at her grave.

“That was her, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. That was her. And about the violin… dad broke it some years ago. Jacob kept playing it every year after she … after she was gone, and one day he had enough. Smashed it sometime after the seventy seventh games. I think you were five when he did that. You cried because you loved the music Jacob would play to you because it was the song she played for everyone else. It was a way of keeping her alive in the family and because Jacob helped her restore it. Dad never liked it - thought that the men of the house shouldn’t be spending time playing with musical instruments.”

Lotus dipped her head.

“Oh. I wish… you still had it.” Lotus had looked at Jory with a solemn face and with a nod, he knew what he had to do. He took her hand and led her to the door and handed her a coat.

“I do… follow me.”

Lotus hated being the family curse, looking strikingly familiar to the girl they had lost twelve years prior. Jacob’s heart broke more and more when the family pictures on the walls were updated and each year, the picture of Cecilia’s would remain the same. Lotus began to catch up to her beautiful big sister’s last remaining photograph.

It was a nightmare.

“I don’t want to look like her, Jacob. It’s not fair. It hurts momma. Daddy cries when he looks at me. It’s almost like I am a curse to resemble someone they loved so much that I never got to know.” The burden on her shoulders were heavy, weighing her down knowing who her big sister was and knowing she’d never be able to fit into the legacy she left behind. “I am my own person. Being compared to her - I wish I could be half the person she was that everyone always talks about.”

“I’m sorry, Lo. I know it’s hard. Believe me, it’s hard on everyone, but damn, I wish you could have known her like I or Jory did. She was the bravest person ever and the kindest soul you’d ever meet. You are so much like her, and it’s only natural. She was the one who named you. I understand what you’re saying, too. Don’t ever change, though. No matter what happens. If you need something or someone to talk to, ask. Understand? You are welcome over at my place any time, day or night. Don’t let dad make you feel bad. And watch after mom. She needs you, too.”

She nodded to him, knowing that he was her rock. “I will, Jacob.”

Year after year, Lotus had watched her mother cave into a darkness she couldn’t fathom. All she knew was that her mother seemed to blame herself and even at night, when the lights were all out and the house was quiet, she could hear her mother’s voice whisper out her late sister’s name and an apology would follow before she slipped back into an unconscious state. Her mother could barely get out of bed most days, and Lotus seemed to be the one to do the meals and tend the house. All the while, she watched her father waste away working endless hours only to come home to a meager meal that they could barely afford and go straight to bed for the same routine every day. His tone toward her had gotten more aggressive lately and he seemed to ghost her as if she resembled something of the past; a haunting memory.

He was slipping away from her.

Her oldest brother, Jacob, had moved out shortly after he turned nineteen but he still helped when he could afford it. He’s mentioned it more than once in front of her father that it was because of them that Cecilia had been reaped and why he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Whispered words of guilt and anger danced on his tone. That’s when Lotus had found out that it was because their father demanded that she take tesserae out to help the family survive and her name had been in as many times as allowed, and a twinge of fear had her expected to do the same once she turned twelve.

It was obvious that Lotus and Jacob’s relationship was unbreaking. She knew from an early age that Jacob had seemed to be the one to raise her properly. At four, he was the one teaching her to read and to write her name among showing her how to do the things a normal four year old could. At the age of seven, he was secretly teaching her how to throw knives at a tree. He wanted to make sure she was prepared to fight if it ever came to it. And at the age of eleven, he gifted her a sweater that he’d hidden from his parents all those years that belonged to their angel of a sister.

Gage, on the other hand, was the family pain. While Lotus tended to the house and had somehow taken up being a seamstress like her big sister did, the peacekeepers have brought him home more than once. Either his face would be screwed up from a fight and she was the one to dab on medicine or hold the cold pack against his skin, or had found a way to steal a loaf of bread from someone’s window and she’d have to fork over money to keep them quiet. Three years older than her, and he was already on a one way ticket to the capitol and it wouldn’t be to live in the lap of luxury for a week. He was the distant one from the family and a constantly harassed his baby sister.

Lotus could only shake her head.

Jory was the one that she had a spiritual connection with. They shared their fears and hopes with each other. Her heart was always open to him and not a single secret was kept from him. A mediator between him and their father as well. Also, Jory had Oliver, the tribute from the eightieth games that had the opportunity to come back to us all. Shortly before Oliver had been reaped, Lotus began to catch on to a few things when she would see them together. Their friendship was much more intimate than a normal friendship. Catching whispered words among them made her curious until one day, she got up the courage to ask. At eight years old, she was receptive to the body language of her lying brother. Until she crossed her arms and puckered her lips with anger, did he finally admit it.

“You tell me now, Jory Brontz! You aren’t s’posed to lie. Cilia will be mad at you if you do. Now, tell me - do you like like Oliver? I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

That day, Jory had put a huge amount of confidence into her and even though she was years younger than him, she kept that secret. It also amounted to a huge release when she watched from the sidelines to Oliver being reaped into the eightieth games. Her heart broke watching Jory break down to having his name be called. She watched Oliver, who’d became her friend as well, take that long walk. A tiny, terrified girl screamed for Oliver that day and when the square had been cleared, she stayed behind and coddled her big brother who refused to walk away.

Now, four years later, Lotus stands in front of her grave, looking at the words etched into the stone and the grass that had crept up and started to overtake the stone. With Jacob and Gage by her side, and a glimpse into the hillside to wave at Jory, she bends on her knees and begins to clean up Cecilia’s resting spot.

“I’m twelve now, sis. Watch over me, okay?”