|W/e| Aim to \Dep|ress/ {Aya}

Previous nights had been tough; grueling work having been done in order for the traveling companions to clear ground between themselves and District Seven as needed. An older sister refused to let up on their constant pace through restricted areas, and the younger brother refused to move on. They would stop that night and rest for but a few hours, though no sleep would be offered the following day. The boy agreed to this only hesitantly, exhaustion weighing him down already, though not sure he could move on relentlessly the next morning. Still, the boy was at a young age, and his logic was with sleeping earlier, so as to rise earlier. Needless to say, the sleeping bag was unrolled, and the sister took watch by the fire, all the while gazing at the beautiful little boy that lay before her.

~|~|~

Unsure why, even moments after rubbing the sleep from her aching eyes, Marcelene Shumway woke with a start, somehow having slumped against the tree stump she had been leaning against what seemed like only a few minutes prior. Glancing every which way, the girl was inable to find the source of her rather rude awakening, and therefor shrugged it off, the breif clash of fear and adrenaline gone from her system alltogether, replaced with a sort of exhaustion only found from a restless sleep. Throwing several handfuls of sand into the fire, she struggled to her feet, trembling bones and aching muscles protesting. A small yawn and a large stretch, and she was off to work, deciding to complete the necessity of packing their remaining belongings before waking Daniel.

The girl enjoyed watching her brother while he slumbered. He would always make faces corresponding with the emotions he felt as he dreamed, sometimes even going as far as making small mutterings and noises. It was a strange sort of entertainment as she did the quick work, though a form nonetheless, and one she found herself endulging in often. A few minutes of this, however, and she found herself quickly shaking the boy awake, informing camp had been packed, and the sleeping bag would need to be stowed before they could clean themselves and set off.

A carry-on bag, having been stolen during a breif stay in District One, was large enough to hold a short bar of soap, flint and matches for fire-starting, light snacks for light travels, the worn sleeping bag (now rolled and tucked into the bottom corner of the cloth sack), a dirtied rag for washing, and one change of clothes for the both of them, occasionally clean, though more often-than-not found tinted with mud stains and splotches. In short, they were ill-prepared for the unplanned trip, having enough material for maybe three or four days away from a trustworthy supply.

And it was as Marcelene was pulling on her one clear pair of denim pants that she found the cause of her sudden awakening. He had been hard to spot at first, a thick layer of foilage having covered his figure, but upon further speculation, she could just make out his brute frame, hairless head. And he had been watching them the entire time.

Time was essential, she found again, and she would need Daniel's full cooperation if they were to make it out of this area without serious harm coming to them. So it was in a great rush that she approached her brother, yanked him to his feet, and all but screamed in his face that he needed to run, which he responded to almost immediately. In a matter of seconds the pair were racing through the trees, both feeling the sense of Deja Vu as their stalker followed close behind. With Marcelene, fear overdrove every other need, desire. She knew if they were to come to a stop, or even slow for an instant, it could mean possible capture and/or murder. For Daniel, it was confusion. Having been pulled away from his temporary home in the midst of preparing himself for the day, for reasons entirely unknown to him, was annoying on its own, let alone the fact that he remained only half dressed, pants left unzipped and a shirt flapping open at the buttons, running through the woods like some pint-sized maniac.

Sure they would never outrun their pursuer, Marcelene was almost ready to give in and allow a second meeting with the stalker from Seven. And she almost did, if it were not for the sight of entertwined steel just a short way ahead. A gate. It alone would have slowed the girl down, for all were supposed to be electrified 24/7, and contact would mean death or serious injury. Though this was no normal circumstance, and Marcelene would be willing to throw herself at it if it meant leaving the crazed man behind.

~|~|~

Short pants their only mean of breathing, Marcelene and Daniel Shumway were a sight to behold. Both bedraggled and tired from their desperate attempt at escape, with large scrapes and cuts from the fence. Several women hurried away from the two, hastily telling each other they had some more shopping to do, though Marcelene knew this not to be the fact. Of course, when someone of this status saw someone like she, they would turn a blind eye and pretend they had never noticed, whereas someone back home (she could have swore the insence of ripened apples engulfed her nose as she thought of her beloved District Eleven) would have kindly offered them help of some sort, even if they were struggling with bankrupcy themselves.

Seeing that no one would help her just standing around looking, she began a light jog, hopefully heading for the District's center, which turned into a frantic run again as her previous fears caught hold of her; the man might as well have been right behind the girl. Seeing that even this did not arouse much attention, she opened her mouth to yell. "Help! Please, help us!" She could only hope this brought the right attention about her.