}waitingFORtheEND{Thundy}

T

[/font]here was a time long ago when men in this country did not have to starve because the Hunger Games were occuring in the next month and it was mandatory for everyone to watch. It was about a century ago when almost everyone in pre-Panem had a job, a house, and a decent life filled with reasonable luxuries, unlike the Capitol. Young children could go to school in peace, learn what they needed to learn, and never be interrogated by the Peacemakers about if their parents liked the new policies of the Capitol or not. And best of all, those children didn't have to spend their childhood waiting, wondering, thinking about the chances of their name getting pulled out of the glass bowls in the future.[/i]

What a life that must have been, Cartesian thought. No fear, no anticipation, and no answering to a dictator, even if he was called a "president." Best of all, food was almost always guaranteed back then, so the future generation didn't spend their childhoods influenced by what happened out on the streets while they were digging in trashcans for food.

Luckily, he wasn't born into one of those families that were always on the brink of being kicked out of their homes because they didn't have enough money to pay the annual taxes to the Capitol. He was a middle class citizen, a proletariat that also contributed to the community by working at a fairly young age. His parents were intellectuals and connected within the community...there wasn't a chance that he would be ejected out of his home soon. It was only the Hunger Games that could reduce the amount of food that came into the house.

But as he looked out into the streets...a little girl, probably no older than eleven with a grimy face wandered aimlessly, looking up at the passerby with big eyes. She was too shy to ask anyone for money and no one was going to give it to her--the people who were rich rarely gave anything to the class they had started from while everyone else was holding on to prevent falling down into that level.

Cartesian, however, stood up and opened the door of his house, grabbing one of the fruits in the basket that he and his sister were supposed to eat every time they came into the door. A bunch of grapes from District 11, probably only a few days old. That would be nothing to lose, he thought as he closed the door and walked into the street to meet the girl.

To his heartbreaking astonishment, the begger girl actually began sobbing and literally kneeled down on the street and bent down, prostrating as if he, Cartesian, were a god. Then she stood up and ran away in a hurry, probably to show her family while the tears rained onto the dirt road, leaving Cartesian in wonder.[/color][/size][/blockquote]

O

[/font]ften, advocaters of a certain charity or volunteer program meandered around District Ten, holding out brochures, telling all who passed by them what good they would be doing for the community and the world, as well as that they would feel incredibly good about themselves. No one ever believed the first--working in the factories benefited only the Capitol and the wealthier districts as the districts who really needed the goods never got a share--so why should the second be believed?

Now, as Cartesian looked on, his eyes following the girl crying in joy, he felt a sudden lift in his heart, as if the world suddenly seemed better. Who cared about food for his family right now? He just made someone else so happy. And honestly, that was worth anything in the world.

His gaze followed the begging girl as she ran off down the street and unfortunately bumped into another girl, this time about his own age, who looked incredibly clean in direct comparison to the filthy rags on the other, and they both fell over like dominoes. As if by a stroke of luck, the elder girl didn't seem condescending, but rather apologetic, making Cartesian less concerned with the possibility that he should have escorted the young girl to wherever she called home.

As if greedy for more of that benign feeling, Cartesian ran toward the two, in an effort to get there on time to help them both, attempting to follow the dead-for-some-hundred-years code of chivalry. It was more that he now felt responsible for the girl after giving her food, but he couldn't surpress the need to feel good after experiencing his first donation ever.

Unfortunately, the girl ran off before he arrived, leaving the other to keep walking, looking rather befuddled [sorry again if that's the wrong word] from the experience.

Cartesian stopped on the spot after seeing the receiver of his donation run away, and now was faced with the other who was walking straight toward him. Her cheeks had turned red, probably from the collision.

"It wasn't your fault," he comforted her indirectly. "She was just happy to get food."

OOC: Ugh. Sucky ending. Sorry.[/color][/size][/blockquote]

M

[/font]ost of District Ten, even if they usually were not as impoverished as Eleven or Twelve, knew exactly what it meant to be serious when it came down to food. Except for the infants, every citizen had seen a derelict person crossing through the roads, clothes torn and teeth yellow, looking hopelessly at the bread that parents guarded with their life on their way home from the market. They would give...if only they could afford to give. Especially in the time of the Hunger Games, food was the issue. Only the upper-class children, the "brats," would be oblivious to a little girl crying over a piece of bread.

Therefore, Cartesian stood, unsure of how to proceed. Insult and be punished. Or carefully explain to the girl as if she were a five-year-old. Either would be alright. Probably the second would be the best for his sake.

"She, uh...was poor and hungry, I think. Might be an orphan. You know who orphans are, right?" Cartesian asked the question with hesitation and was ready to run for his life, in case she would start screaming for the Peacemakers to arrest such an infidel. "Not to insult you, but...you seem like you don't know."

Cartesian looked up, somewhat ashamed into her eyes and found something quite peculiar. They were sort of fogged up and milky, like a winter's night in comparison to the lukewarm heat of the fire. She seemed unfocused, like a seer, but concentrated on him and his comments at the same time. Blanking out of the world? Perhaps. Other than that, she looked fine. Maybe in need of a little reality check throughout District Ten, but good enough at any rate.[/color][/size][/blockquote]

Oh.

Um.

Awkward silence here.

One glance at her eyes and Cartesian realized that she wasn't lying. Her pupils were unmoving, unaware of what he was doing or what was happening around her.

Cartesian felt a pang of pity right after the feeling of shock left. He pretty much just reminded her of a problem that she could not fix. The words "I'm sorry" flashed in his mind several times in a row as he tried to find a way to properly address this, knowing that he probably just knocked her into the zone of emotional sensitivity, even though she had smiled just previously.

"Oh, I didn't notice," he mumbled awkwardly yet hurridly, looking down to the ground. "Please accept my apologies," he politely said, looking up again, suddenly conscious that she wouldn't notice if his face was glowing with shame or not. She probably relied on her ears and touch to decipher the world, and it would be quite an insult if he deprived her of knowledge that she, if she was a typical disabled person, would truly want to have.

OOC: I win for the latest post ever. Sorry, Thundy. I understand if you don't want to reply back.

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