Lagg Halloran [D8][DONE]

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The days were long and the nights longer. Dangerously low temperatures threatened even those who have the luxury of a fire to warm by. It was a harsh winter, and everyone in District Eight was hit hard. What little livestock that was scattered across the white plains of Eight was quickly dwindling away and mass starvation was creeping in. The Capitol was to blame, of course, for not sending supplies to its textiles District in such a hard December. People knew this, but they never did anything about it. How could they? Oppression was heavier than ever.

Gauche Suede hated the Winter. There was always work in the cold months, but he was a Summer person and despised December's bite. Work was work. Times were hard. Money was hard to come by. In the end, Gauche put aside his selfish preferences and took the job. He was a Letter Bee - A worker at Letter Bee Industries, a small delivery chain operating on the outskirts of District Eight. Gauche liked his job, it paid well and the hours were flexible. He wasn't looking forward to the next few weeks, and the snowstorm that had rolled into town the day before had put a darker cloud over his upcoming workload.

He was a strapping young lad, Eighteen years of age. His face was gaunt but defined, with stubble sprouting from his chin. He was a stubborn boy with four siblings to provide for, and so he always felt he had a duty. A man provides for his family. Gauche was the man of the house - His father had died a long time ago and his Mother was utterly dependant on him. He had no choice, but even if he did he would have chosen the same path, because family was everything.

Gauche wrapped himself up warm. His dark blue postman's jacket hung loosely on his shoulders, whilst a cream scarf constricted around his neck. He ran through the fresh snow, each step making a crunching sound and leaving behind an imprint of his boot. He knew the route by heart, but he was not being careless today. Black ice laid hidden on the paths and corners that he had to take, and so he forced himself to walk the rest of the way. He didn't want to slip and break a bone, and be forced to stop working. Who would feed the family then? The cold was nasty, the wind whipped and slapped at his face. His cheeks were so red that they verged on purple, but Gauche Suede persevered.

The warmth that greeted him as he entered the postal headquarters was the biggest relief. A small bell chimed as he opened the door and stepped inside. He removed his gloves and hat, making his way to the reception desk. The woman behind the oak counter glanced at him over her teardrop spectacles. Gauche knew her, and he knew that she did not like him. She licked her index finger and turned a dry page over, scratching at the paper with a sharp fountain pen. She looked at him a second time, handing him the parchment.
"Thanks." Gauche forced a professional smile, taking the page in hand. She did not smile back.

The teenager stamped the slip and handed it in at the collection office, where another teenager was working. People called him Trev, even if his name wasn't Trevor. The boy looked frog-like and utterly grumpy. He grunted at Gauche and gave him a large cardboard box in exchange for his stamped paper. The box was heavy, but Gauche lifted it with a grunt. He often wondered what was inside all of the different crates and boxes he had to deliver, but it wasn't his business to know, only to deliver.

He bared the Winter winds, his face screwed up and exerting frustration at the weight of the box. His trip would be a long one, and could have taken him up to twenty minutes given the conditions. All he could think of way the pay, and how much it meant to his three sisters, his brother and his mother. They would all get a hot meal tonight, and that was all that mattered. Gauge was feeling faint soon enough. He wasn't so cold and his chest was dripping with sweat underneath the many layers of clothing. He felt a thump from inside the box and swore loudly, almost dropping the thing.

"What the-?" He adjusted his feet so he wouldn't fall over, but then the box shook again, more violently this time. He frowned. It wasn't his business to know what was inside the box. He knew immediately it was an animal - A cat or a dog for some rich businessman. There were even air-holes at the top of the box. That had to be it.

~ ~ ~

Lagg Halloran wasn't happy. He couldn't see what was going on, he didn't know what was going on. His hands were tied and his mouth gagged by fabric. His box had been moved around, thrown, kicked and dropped all day long, and he was getting sick of it. He had kicked back a few times, but the only response he got were swear words. That was a bad thing. So, Lagg sat tight and waited for his fate, whatever it was going to be. He wanted to cry. He wanted his mama. But mama had been gone a long time.

He kicked again, and this time something hit him back, hard. He tumbled out of his box and into fresh, cold snow. The fabric came out of his mouth and released a high-pitched cry. Tears streamed down his red face as a dark figure stared down at him.
"Hey! Hey, stop crying!" Lagg heard the man, but he couldn't stop crying. He had hit the ground and it hurt.
"Listen kid, stop!" The man ushered him, but the tears kept coming.

Lagg soon realized that the man was only trying to help him, and the crying dulled down to a small whimper. He was tall with dark hair and a blonde beard. The beard didn't look very good, fluffy almost. The man knelt down to Lagg's height and put a hand on his shoulder. The young boy tried to fight but his hands were tied up and h-
His hands weren't tied up. The man cut away the rest of the rope and threw it to the side, into the snow.
"Th-Th-... Thanks..." The boy muttered, sitting up.
"Hey, no problem kid," He smiled warmly, which made Lagg want to smile too, "What's your name? How old are you?"

The man was being nice. The people before weren't nice to Lagg. They pushed him and shouted at him and made him cry. They were mean men, and they did bad things to his mama. This man though, he was different. He wore a bright blue jacket and a matching hat. Over his shoulder was a brown satchel, and a cream scarf dangled from his neck.
"Lagg... I'm seven years old..." Said the boy, curling up to block the brunt of the wind, "Are you some kind of postman?"

The man laughed, his fluffy beard rippled as he did.
"Yeah, I am... The name's Gauche," He smiled again, and Lagg smiled too, "Why don't we get someplace warm?"

~ ~ ~

Lagg was growing increasingly frustrated at his superior. Alice was a mean girl, and taunted him most days. Sometimes it was about his lack of height, or his stupid hair, or because he was a crybaby. She liked making Lagg cry, it was her hobby. She also liked telling him that there was no news on Gauche. She told him most days, just to see Lagg's face turn red. Sometimes Lagg wondered if she was lying, and that Gauche had actually come home, but he knew that Alice couldn't lie about Gauche - He had seen that she kept a picture of him in her bedroom. Ew, that was disgusting.

"Face it Lagg, he ain't coming back."[/i] She sat on her desk in her short skirt and white shirt that was deliberately several sizes too small for her. She sighed and popped another peppermint into her mouth. Lagg frowned, his face screwed up like it always did when she told him the news.
"If he isn't back, then stop reminding me!" Lagg half-shouted, provoking Alice to raise her eyebrows and giggle. He didn't want to know if Gauche wasn't back, he wanted to know if he was back. It had been nearly a year since Lagg had joined Letter Bee Industries as a postman. He enjoyed the work, but it wasn't the same without Gauche around.

He had disappeared nearly a year ago.

Alice folded one leg over the other, Lagg saw. He liked her legs, they were nice. He wouldn't tell her that though, never. She was seventeen and he was fourteen. She'd eat him alive if he said he thought she was pretty.
"Since when did you get a backbone, Lagg?" She giggled again, sucking on another peppermint. Lagg wasn't a coward, he just got upset easy, was all. He saw men do things to his mother, and he was powerless to stop them. He saw her die. Alice had been raised in a well-off family in a nice house with plenty of food. She was a brat if he ever knew one, but a very nice looking brat.

"Could you just check again? Are you sure you saw the stamp?" He asked nervously. She frowned, obviously angry. She spat the boiled sweet into the bin and grabbed a black piece of paper. She got up off of her desk and walked over to him, shoving it into his clumsy hands. The stamp was there all right, big and red with a bee imprinted into it. It meant that he had not turned up for duty this month. His face dropped at the confirmation, and he dropped the paper.

"Oh, I have to pick this up, do I?" Alice grunted, leaning down and muttering, "Unbelievable."
As she did, Lagg's eyes trailed lazily to her plunging neckline. Before he realized what he was doing she had looked up and caught him. His face flushed red and he stumbled backwards and fell over. She marched over to him in her impossibly high heels and grabbed him by the collar. She yanked him up and threw him to one side like he was nothing more than a rag doll.
"What do you think you're doing?" She yelled, "You pathetic little pervert! You need to sort your life out, you little shrimp. You can't spend your days waiting for someone who clearly doesn't like you to come home..."

"You seem to." He was shocked at the words coming out of his mouth, but the feeling of her hand striking his face didn't surprise him at all. Neither did his tears.[/color]

control yourself
take only what you need from it
a family of trees wanted
to be haunted[/justify][/color][/size][/blockquote]
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Credit to Kire for the table~