Veiled Horrors --- OPEN
Apr 9, 2012 15:24:07 GMT -5
Post by imgnblckwngs on Apr 9, 2012 15:24:07 GMT -5
Brooklyn Raine
Stay calm. Don't look back. RUN.
District Four is a fishing district. Nothing major ever happens here. We are not one of those grandiose Career districts that sparkle with glory, nor do we wallow in poverty like the outliers. Many people here are content with their lives: we have enough food to get by, our Peacekeepers aren't hostile if we stay low, and sometimes we have victors in the Games.
The one real perk of our district, however, is the ocean. It stretches wide out into the horizon, reflects the colors of the sun, and displays the beautiful fish that swim inside it. I catch fish with my snares, all of which are later loaded on trucks and shipped to the Capitol. I save one or two for home, even though mom and I don't really need it. Technically it's illegal (because it's poaching) but either I'm extremely inconspicuous, or the Capitol has simply decided that the agony I've lived through will suffice for a lifetime of such petty crimes, because I never get punished. Not that I really care. Sometimes I haul fish only to give it away to the underfed. What I really care about, what I like, is to dive. I watch the fish writhe beautifully, their colors sparkling under the streams of light that break through the surface of the water. I watch other marine animals play hide-and-seek amid the algae and corals. I watch ships come and go, and hark the tune sailors hum when they're close by. The ocean's really quite a sight. It introduces colors to ones life that are impossible to find elsewhere--colors beyond anything man has seen.
Regardless, nothing changes the fact that we still live in Panem.
That morning starts like any other. I squirm and roll in bed, tussling with another nightmare. Except this time, it strikes hard. I can see everything, sense everything, like I'm standing there again. Like I'm screaming again. My throat burns, and the ropes around my wrists and ankles dig into my skin. I'm almost blinded by the sultry tears I shed incessantly. Every breath I take is scathing in this asphyxiating room. Then my mother tentatively walks in and strokes my hair.
"Brookie, wake up..." she calls to me. No one calls me Brookie anymore. This is another trick they're playing on me. It must be... it must be!
I bite back another scream and shoot upright in bed, panting, but with hopeful eyes at hearing my old pet name. I look around, only to find my mother sitting on the side of my bed, a rueful smile tugging at her thin lips. My heart sinks, crushed with disappointment, but I'm not surprised. I go through this ordeal every time I close my eyes, and since I'm not allowed to spend every night on the beach, where the sound of crashing waves make my nightmares easier to handle, I'm pretty much used to this.
"Good morning, mom," I manage a weak smile, and she pulls me in for a hug.
"Breakfast is ready, darling."
I pull away, get up, and go to the bathroom. The girl that stares at me in the mirror looks like any other sixteen year old, maybe with leaner muscles from swimming, but still a teenager at the brink of her life. I lift my index finger and trace the deep gash along my left cheek.
Brink of a long, exciting life. Yep.
With that in mind, I dress up and eat breakfast. I don't have school on Saturdays, and there's really no point in training for the games about now, when the reaping's right around the corner. I'm strong. Not Career strong, but mentally strong. And if I die, so be it. It's not like I have anything left to live for, except maybe watching the Capitol burn down to the ground.
I decide to go for a walk. Usually my preferred destination would be the beach, and I'd take a left, following the shortest dirt path that led to that wonderful coast. Today, I decide to take a right and plunge deeper into the town. I'm avoiding the ocean today; I'm avoiding anything to do with Ocean today.
When I reach the town square, for some reason I find it abandoned.
Huh...
My pace quickens, and I circle the neighboring blocks, only to find them just as empty as the rest of the town. I run to the docks, to the shore... even the Justice Building, and all the tiny shops and boutiques surrounding it. Everything's bare! There's not a sign of anybody; not even the goddamn Peacekeepers! On a different occasion, I'd be beside myself with glee to see them gone, but to see an entire population disappear overnight...
My mother!
I run back home and find a letter from her lying on the kitchen counter. I pick the crumpled, thick piece of paper with tremulous hands and read through it.
"Dear Brooklyn,
I'm leaving the house for a while. I'll be out of town, but I'll return in a couple of days. Take care of yourself for the time being, and please don't worry about me.
With Love,
Meredith."
For a moment I stand mesmerized by my mother's words, staring at the note. It isn't even a proper letter! Not to mention it's simply scribbled over the inside of a torn milk carton, but she hasn't even explained what errand she disappeared to run. Out of town? How did she even get permission to leave town?!
I shudder uncontrollably, and nausea hits me when I realize what this means. If I want to find her, if I want to find anyone else who used to live in this district, I have to go beyond the barbed wire. I have to cross the borders that had cost me so much to cross once before.
I gather my remaining courage and walk to the wire, but I halt immediately when I notice that something's very wrong with this scene. First of all, the wire is not humming with electricity. The second is that there's a ten-foot gap in the links, almost mocking me with its size. And the third; footprints. At first it looks like the citizens of District Four trumpled all over each other to escape behind this border, but on a second note, I notice some of the footprints belong to Peacekeepers. They helped the citizens? Or were they running also? If so, from what?
And why was I left behind, without anyone briefing me about this untimely escapade?
Was I the only one? What if I was? What if this was a dream and all I had to do was to slap myself to wake up and find everything in place like before?
So I slap myself, but that only brings back bitter tears I had fought so hard to keep away. Now I fall on my knees, staring desperately at the footprints.
Please, wake up. Please, return. I can't take this, just, please... I will go mad here... I can't... I can't...
I can't cross.