All Alone In The Night

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Penny Cromwell
Hunter

69 POSTS
last seen Jan 5, 2011 4:34:46 GMT -5

All Alone In The Night Nov 27, 2010 3:24:03 GMT -5

Post by Penny Cromwell on Nov 27, 2010 3:24:03 GMT -5

Rain splattered against the hinged windows dripping down the pains of glass as Penny sat - knees bent and resting at her chin - in a small black rocking chair placed in front of her desk. A thin white strip of paper lay before her - her left hand holding it in place - while she scribbled her pen across the lines, drawing an image of some kind. The wind was picking up outside and she could feel the air start to seep past the glass and curtail around her thin form. She shivered slightly - awkwardly really - like that feeling of a ghost passing over your body. This caused Penny to stop her movements and turn toward the window. It was a beautiful night. The rain and the trees smacking against one another, blowing and groaning out for her eyes to see. She smiled there in the silence of her room as the sounds from outside crept in louder and louder with each passing moment.

It was dark outside, probably six or seven at night by now, but it had been this way all day the clouds had decided to stay transfixed overhead forcing most of the residents in District Four to remain inside. Others who would normally seek shelter on the beach were forced away by Peacekeepers and sent to one of the community facilities to ride out the remainder of the storm. Boats were pulled in and covered so that they wouldn't drift away into the destructive sea and the girl rocking quietly in her rocking chair had spent most of her day securing down her father's boating equipment down at the docks before they were told to vacate the area.

The images floated by her face as she drifted off into a blinding stare, the pitter patter against her window sending her into a semi-trance. They would loose a few fishing poles and maybe one of the smaller lake vessels but all in all it would be a lot less devastating then some of the storms they had had a few years ago. As she started to think back to the worst storm she had ever been alive for she was dragged out of the moment by the sound of knuckles knocking softly against the frame of her open door. The smiling face and warm voice pulled her back to the moment and she smiled as her mother's words connected in her head. "Penny hunny? Would you like to take a shower before dinner? It should be ready in a half hour. Your father thinks he's made a masterpiece." She winked, a light chuckle escaping her worn lips.

Looking up Penny's face shifted lovingly to her mother's and then awkwardly back down at her drawing as if she was hiding something - but she wasn't. It was an awkward tick of sorts, like she was being watched. Setting down the jet black pen onto her desk she turned back to her mother and asked. "What is he going to surprise us with this time, trout a la carrots?" She laughed jokingly, finally straightening her reluctant legs from their tight, cramped position below her chin.

Her mother shook her head, bearing her pearly whites. "Surprisingly he's finally decided we can eat something other than fish for the evening. To..." She paused and looked down for a moment, the hint of a smile completely faded from her pale eyes. "remember..." She trailed off allowing silence to fill the air.

Penny's face fell. Sadness creeping into her eyes as she stared blankly at the strip of paper in front of her. "Krista." She whispered back, an understanding washing over her. Today marked the fifth anniversary of the day she died in the Hunger Games. Tears broke out from her strong eyes and began to drip down her cheek - like the raindrops slid slowly down her window the dim light reflecting the motions across her face - sliding into one another and crescendoing down her wet cheeks. It all blurred together after that.

words; 673
notes; Solo Posting!
outfit; outfit here.
credit; credit to CLAIRE BEAR ?! via caution two point oh

Last Edit: Nov 27, 2010 21:17:15 GMT -5 by Penny Cromwell

Penny Cromwell
Hunter

69 POSTS
last seen Jan 5, 2011 4:34:46 GMT -5

All Alone In The Night Nov 27, 2010 21:15:20 GMT -5

Post by Penny Cromwell on Nov 27, 2010 21:15:20 GMT -5

I remember hugging my mother until every tear that had clung to my guilty face evaporated into her shoulder. The soft kiss she placed on the top of my head as she guided me to the bathroom, the helpful hands as they turned the metal taps before helping me undress to my underwear... All of it swirled in my brain but I couldn't piece any of it together. Shock? I didn't know. But now, bathed in the hot glow of the faucet, cradled on the floor of the shower, I sit as the water brings pain and pleasure to my back neither of which I can feel at the moment.

I want to reach up, to the built in shelf at the base of the shower but when I fail to reach it the first time I give up and resign myself to sit there being unproductive. I dip my face into my arms and rest for what feels like an eternity in the blackness but I receive no peace of mind only of body. Weakly, when the water turns to ice, I manage to pull my aching knees apart and push myself up onto my feet. I wonder why I haven't been called to dinner yet as I towel myself off. Surely it has been a half an hour by now?

When I walk out into the hallway I fight the urge to hide - to flee into my bedroom and hide my face in my pillows and wait for the night to overtake me - but I don't. I grip the wooden railing and descend the staircase into my living room. I can hear my mother and father talking about something but they stop when they see me turn the corner. Our kitchen/table is right off our living room so that they are both connected as if they were one room. I fake a smile as my tiny fingers, barely escaping my long sleeved shirt, curl back in comfort as I walk toward them.

I don't speak at first but I don't need to. My dad takes one of my arms and softly leads me to the stove. He seems happy, or maybe he is just trying to cheer me up? I'm not sure, but when he lifts up the cover of the pot the smells overtake my senses and the bright colors and different textures cause a genuine smile to form across my lips. I'm about to ask what it is when he speaks. "Pepper Steak and Onions. With some tomatoes and rice." He says cautiously as he lets go of my hand and takes a step to the side.

I know what to say and I say it. "It's beautiful Daddy." I pause and turn toward them. "Love you." I whisper as tears start to dab my eyes again and I take them both into my arms in a massive hug. I feel their bodies press into mine and their hands rubbing my back gently and I know I am loved. Whatever has happened in the past is in the past and they don't blame me for any losses we might have sustained giving up our money in sponsorship. The moment lingers and they let it. I'm not quite sure how long passes before I let go of them. I am happy. A warm smile has replaced my tears as I step away and slide into my seat at the table.

While my Dad prepares us all our plates my mom reaches over and touches my hand. I just nod at her in thanks as if words aren't needed. We say a prayer for Krista and then we eat our meal. I ask for two more helpings before the night is over I enjoyed it so much and my father promises to make it again for my Birthday. When bedtime comes I find myself back in my room, drawing on the thin white strip of paper I had left earlier on my dresser. A picture of me and Krista holding hands before our first reaping.

words; 677
notes; Solo Posting!
outfit; outfit here.
credit; credit to CLAIRE BEAR ?! via caution two point oh

Last Edit: Nov 27, 2010 21:16:49 GMT -5 by Penny Cromwell

Penny Cromwell
Hunter

69 POSTS
last seen Jan 5, 2011 4:34:46 GMT -5

All Alone In The Night Nov 29, 2010 7:03:45 GMT -5

Post by Penny Cromwell on Nov 29, 2010 7:03:45 GMT -5

Sunlight splattered across my face, pulling me from my wake-less state. My lithe body struggling against the heavy blanket, it's weight acting like constraints around me, as thoughts begin to form with understanding. I groan knowing that a new day has formed and that my body is fighting the resurgence into daily life. Hidden away in my room I lay there silently unsure of what I must do to will myself out of my stooper. My eyes find the broken shadows of tree branches swaying ever so slightly against the far wall. Pictures start to form as I imagine little scenarios erupting into glory across the white, loosely painted, backdrop.

As seconds turn to minutes turn to hours I finally hear the familiar steps of my mother's feet pattering down the stairs, most likely for her morning cup of pick me up. I know it won't be long before she is knocking on my door to get up, to get ready, and to eat breakfast so I reluctantly begin my morning ascent. My legs sweep across the strewn sheets and topple over the side of the bed onto the floor. I can faintly make out my mother's footsteps and the banging of pots and plates being taken out of the cupboard as I silently make my way into the bathroom.

I don't know why I sneak into our tiny bathroom. Maybe I didn't want to be bothered? Maybe I wasn't sure I would be allowed to take one this early in the morning? Maybe I just was being a total dork? Regardless I locked the door and quickly made my way to the knobs, turned them to their hot function, and disrobed all my clothes onto the bathroom counter. Today was a big day for me and I didn't even realize it was until I tossed my final piece of apparel onto the pile I had made. Today was another training day at the center.