philias and phobias [D1 plot - toast]

Catastrophies are meant to catch the most observant eye off guard. All would seem fine and dandy in a person’s life until a bolt of lightning struck them from above the clouds, or a tsunami swept in and cleansed the land of human souls, or a wife cheated on her husband with his five brothers. Anything can happen at any time and any place, expected or unexpected - and it was an unexpected event that dragged young Dante Draques out of his quiet home and into a train bound for District One.

His morning had commenced like any other. He lugged himself out of bed, took a cold shower that made his skin erupt in goose bumps, and lounged on the sofa with a bowl of cardboard flavored cereal sprinkled with bits of coco. His first order of business was to turn on the television, and his tired eyes were greeted by flashing bold letters that warned him of “Breaking News!”. He tuned in only for a moment as his jaws crushed the miniature flakes of wheat. According to the reporter an earthquake had demolished a good portion of District One. The woman then began to ramble about the damages and the death toll, so Dante tuned himself out. He faintly wondered what it would look like if the earth split open in District Seven. Would there be large cracks and chasms that sucked lives into their dark depths? What would await those unfortunate people at the bottom? Would they just become wedged between two chunks of earth, or would there be a flat bottom that made bodies splatter? What if there was a pit of fire instead? The thought fascinated him, really. The rich people in District One must’ve been having a hell of a time.

A loud rap against the front door snapped him out of his daydreaming. Slightly annoyed that his breakfast was being interrupted, he sighed and set the bowl down. Who in could possibly have business with him this early in the morning? He hoped it wasn’t that girl. She had no business telling him who he could sleep with and who he couldn’t. If he wanted to sleep with her and her sister in the same night and get away with it, he would.

As he approached the door he rolled his eyes and prepared himself for a long lecture about respect and some other bullshit, but as the door swung open he was greeted by two strange men instead.

“Pack your bags, Mr. Draques. You’re going to District One.”

And so Dante was forced to retreat to his room and shove clothes into a cramped suitcase while the two men watched impatiently at his door. His burning curiosity pleaded him to ask questions, but the men were strict and unwilling to even let a word escape his lips. They demanded a speedy packing, claiming that the train would be leaving in less than an hour, and ushered him out the door the instant his suitcase was zipped. He was escorted into a train with other crowds of people and forced to search the entire train to find a compartment to himself. He used one seat for his suitcase and two for himself; he needed a place to prop his feet. He stared through the glass window for what seemed like hours until the train gradually began to inch its way forward. Soon, forests were just a blur. Everything outside was moving too quickly for his gaze to follow, and he turned away before he ended up dizzy. Blinking several times, he relaxed into his chair and wondered why he was being imported to district one. Obviously it was in relation to the earthquake, but what was he supposed to do? Rescue people? Gross. Dante chopped trees, and that was it. He spent his days in the forest sweating and swinging axes. Rescuing people just sounded…odd. Why the hell should he help someone? It’s not like they would ever repay him.

A voice spoke to him through a speaker in the wall. It answered every question he had to offer: Why was he going to district one? Because they need help repairing buildings and other structures, and that required lumber. Where would the workers be staying? In residents’ homes, most likely with other workers. How long would they be staying? Not quite sure at the moment.

Great. So Dante had to work in a fancy district to help repair fancy buildings and live with fancy strangers in their fancy houses. Strange, but that wasn’t exactly his idea of fun. With a groan of distaste he leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes, wishing for just a few more minutes of peace before he was shoved into an unfamiliar district with people who were bound to be screaming in hysterics. It would just be headaches and sweat. Again, not his idea of fun.

The men were quick to round everybody up. As soon as the train screeched to a halt he merged into a crowd of people and walked out of the train and into strange territory. The first thing he noticed was the damage. The news reporter had not been exaggerating; a good part of the district had been wiped out completely. He saw endless piles of skeletons that used to be luxurious houses, and the ground was drenched with water from the flood that had occurred on live television, when Dante had been busy pampering himself in a cold shower. It looked like a desolate wasteland from his angle. Once he turned around, though, he spotted the untouched half of the district, and this was where he was directed.

A man gave him a card with an address written on it. It was his responsibility to find the address and welcome himself in, because that was where he would be staying while he worked. Suitcase in one hand and card in the other, Dante made his way into the neighborhoods of district one. It was an entirely different planet compared to district seven; every house was unique in shape, size, design, and color, unlike his neighborhood, where every house was identical. They towered above him and practically blinded him with their vibrant colors. Ironically enough, the address on his card matched the address of the brightest house on the street: a two-story house with a white roof and walls that were yellow like a banana being shoved into his eyes. He reluctantly approached the door and rapped on it twice. A woman’s voice called to him from the other side. “Coming!”

The door opened to reveal one of the most frightening women he had ever laid eyes on. He had seen make-up on television; the capitol residents wore it all the time, but it at least made them appear flattering. This woman’s face was a nightmare. Her face was three shades darker than the rest of her, her lips were as red as cherries, and her cyan eye shadow had been applied unevenly. It looked as if her face was caked with the stuff, and he wondered if her cheek would crumble if he touched it. Not that he ever would. She looked like a middle-aged clown.

“Hello there! You must be one of the workers. Well, come in, come in!”

She stepped aside and ushered him inside. Stiff with discomfort, he walked into the house dragging his suitcase against the hardwood floor and absorbed his surroundings. The place was adorned with pictures and oddly-shaped sculptures that captured every color of the rainbow under the light. It was also completely spotless; Dante could probably drag his finger across any surface and find not a speck of dust. What the hell was wrong with this woman?

“What’s your name little boy?” Little boy? What? Couldn’t she tell that he was practically a full-grown man? Boys didn’t sleep with a set of twin sisters in one night. Oh no. “and where are you from?”