Forbidden Fruit {open}
Apr 6, 2012 19:41:56 GMT -5
Post by firefly on Apr 6, 2012 19:41:56 GMT -5
Aster Willoughby :: Fourteen :: District 9
Along the fence that severed District 9 from the remainder of the world, a trio of young girls sauntered in the rare sunshine. Spring had finally fallen – not that was obvious, with the dark, heavy fumes that dominated the heavens – but still, it was here. And that was something. As though encouraged by the faint rays of light that filtered through the stormy skies above, the three were whistling. Humming. Singing.
“Just a little further,” the eldest and tallest of the three – Aster, was her name – commented, after some time. Today presented a rare afternoon devoid of work for the girl, and she was keen to share a secret with her younger siblings. Clutching each of her hands, the two younger ones offered smiles: the youngest presenting the brightest and happiest of them all. From their matching straight, raven hair, tanned skin and dark eyes, it was clear they were related: their strikingly similar features only acting to confirm that this relation was a close one.
Despite the smog and the ceaseless pungency of soot, dirt, and chemicals, it seemed that Mother Nature was slowly awakening. No matter what District 9 threw at her, she would stir from the deep slumbers of winter, eventually. Along the fence, the occasional bloom of flowers and weeds confirmed this - bushes prodding through, too, here and there.
It was not until the three reached a particular bush, however, that the girls slowed to a halt. It was somewhat of a peculiar sight - branches jutting out like outstretched fingers, clawing at the fence. Along those fingers, however, plump berries hung like deep blue gems: treasures for their taking.
Aster knew they were fine; knew they were edible. Her father had scooped her in his arms and walked the – what, ten, fifteen minute walk? – from their house along the fence just yesterday, to show her. They had clandestinely harvested a few of the precious berries, but of course had been careful about it. Discreet. No need to draw attention. No need to attract the Peacekeepers, who were liable to either take up the remainder themselves or inflict some form of unfair punishment on them. Perhaps both.
Gasping in surprise and delight, the younger girls were hushed by their elder sister as she made a quick sweep of the area with her eyes, and picked a handful or two of the deep blue berries to deposit in an old round tin, produced from an old shoulderbag of their mother’s. Perhaps it had been foolish, to tag them along with her. But the young girls were sensible and listened (unlike their more unruly sister, Ashe, who thankfully was off somewhere with her friends) – and oh, how overjoyed they had been, last night, at the idea of tasting but a few of the berries!
Smiling and swiftly returning the tin to the bag, Aster ushered the others along – away from the scene of the crime, so to speak – pressing them towards the final destination she had in mind. A light incline was set in her mind's eye. A small slope upwards to a shaded area overlooking the lower areas of District 9. Yes. It seemed a perfect, quiet place to enjoy the company of her sisters – and perhaps devour a berry or two.
Before the girls could make but a few steps forward, however, a sound to their rear set Aster’s heart pounding.
Someone was coming. Something was wrong.
