gather it all [rosemary oneshots]

The days seemed to run by ever so quickly. As the election began to draw to a close, I felt at the time that my campaign was going quite well, but things were still to be seen. Who truly knew what the people wanted? Just because things seemed to be turned in my favor right then, didn't mean that it couldn't all shift the moment that the people of Twelve entered the voting booth.

I'd never thought I'd even come this close, though. I didn't think the people would actually like some practically no-name woman who came from almost nothing. I really didn't think that they would want someone like me to help in running the District, but it actually seemed that the people liked me.

Caroline and Thyme have been my main support in all of this. Thyme endorsed me for my running, and continued to support me when asked about it. Caroline tells me that I'm going to win, because as she puts it "Momma is the best, and everyone loves Momma!"

I just hope that these endeavors prove themselves to be worth it.


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183 words

I spent the evening at the family cemetery plot. Caroline came with me, but she really didn't understand where we were or what was going on. I just told her that I needed to leave some things for some people who were gone.

"Like Momma Camilla?" she asked me.

"Not quite," I said. "I want to leave things for people who are gone, but who we know where they went. I can't really leave something for Momma Camilla if I don't know where she is," I explained. It was the best way I had of explaining to a five year old that Momma Camilla leaving and members of my family dying were two different things without completely introducing the idea of death quite yet.

While at the cemetery, I started by placing flowers at each of my parents' graves. My father's headstone was very cracked and worn, and my mother's was covered in moss. On my father's grave, I placed a purple tulip, and my mother's I placed a pink one. I whispered a few words that I'd never know if they could hear, and then moved onto the graves of my aunt and uncle: Sage and Parsley's parents. I left them each a lily of a different color, and whispered a few words for them as well.

Last would be Sage. My cousin Sage's stone was freshly cleaned: there was a young girl I'd seen cleaning tributes' headstones recently, which I appreciated. There was also already a bundle of daisies placed upon his plot when I approached. I added my own, pink daisy to the mix of white ones.

I'd wondered who'd brought him flowers. Could it have been the young girl that was cleaning the stones? I'd have to talk to her one day.


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291 words