Fabric of our lives//Rook
Nov 18, 2013 15:11:28 GMT -5
Post by Angora Blackwell on Nov 18, 2013 15:11:28 GMT -5
Angora leaned against the dirty wall of the factory and slowly slid down it. It had been a long, exhausting day. For the first time in what felt like years, her hands actually ached. Her aquamarine eyes looked down at them and frowned. They would probably bother her for the rest of the day. She wondered quietly to herself why so many peacekeeper uniforms were being made. Was there some sudden influx of peacekeepers from District 2? Or were they just running low? She didn't know and to be honest, she didn't care all that much. She just wanted to get home and relax a bit.
She picked herself up from the ground and made her way home. It wasn't a long walk, maybe a good eight minutes or so. The walk home was somewhat noisy. Kids playing outside after completing their homework, workers walking home from the factories and some of the older residents sitting outside their small, sometimes lopsided homes, chitchatting about their youth. Angora smiled at most of them and they often smiled back or asked how she was. Life in District 8 was hard but it was all she knew. She also quite liked living in 8. It wasn't the worst district to live in, at least from what she knew about the lower districts.
Twelve was probably the worst off and she often wondered how the people there survived. Angora once her peacekeepers talking about how horrible the people were. They were starving and dirty. Angora couldn't help but think all the districts, besides the careers, were starving and dirty. However, district twelve produced coal and as it were, coal wasn't the greatest import, nor was it the cleanest. Angora, when she was very young, believed that everyone in the district was covered with at least a thin layer of soot. It was probably true, which is why she still believes it.
Angora opened the door to her home and stepped in, only to find a peacekeeper blocking her way. She wasn't startled, like most people would be. She was used to having them over. Her mother made a fairly decent living by altering peacekeeper uniforms. Peacekeepers varied by kindness. Some of them were pleasant but most of them weren't. Her blue eyes stared at the back of the white uniform in front of her, as she gently cleared her throat. Her mother lifted her head, her eyes widening at Angora. She was always overly polite and sweet when peacekeepers were in her house and Angora clearing her throat was a sign of disrespect in her mind. Most peacekeepers just ignored it, and ignored her. They would move when they were good and ready to move. They were above her. Superior in all ways. Angora wouldn't let the rudeness of the peacekeepers phase her, though. She would either stand there, put on a brave face and act as if they never bothered her. Or she would simply go outside, walk around the house and climb through a window. The second option happened more often than not.
She picked herself up from the ground and made her way home. It wasn't a long walk, maybe a good eight minutes or so. The walk home was somewhat noisy. Kids playing outside after completing their homework, workers walking home from the factories and some of the older residents sitting outside their small, sometimes lopsided homes, chitchatting about their youth. Angora smiled at most of them and they often smiled back or asked how she was. Life in District 8 was hard but it was all she knew. She also quite liked living in 8. It wasn't the worst district to live in, at least from what she knew about the lower districts.
Twelve was probably the worst off and she often wondered how the people there survived. Angora once her peacekeepers talking about how horrible the people were. They were starving and dirty. Angora couldn't help but think all the districts, besides the careers, were starving and dirty. However, district twelve produced coal and as it were, coal wasn't the greatest import, nor was it the cleanest. Angora, when she was very young, believed that everyone in the district was covered with at least a thin layer of soot. It was probably true, which is why she still believes it.
Angora opened the door to her home and stepped in, only to find a peacekeeper blocking her way. She wasn't startled, like most people would be. She was used to having them over. Her mother made a fairly decent living by altering peacekeeper uniforms. Peacekeepers varied by kindness. Some of them were pleasant but most of them weren't. Her blue eyes stared at the back of the white uniform in front of her, as she gently cleared her throat. Her mother lifted her head, her eyes widening at Angora. She was always overly polite and sweet when peacekeepers were in her house and Angora clearing her throat was a sign of disrespect in her mind. Most peacekeepers just ignored it, and ignored her. They would move when they were good and ready to move. They were above her. Superior in all ways. Angora wouldn't let the rudeness of the peacekeepers phase her, though. She would either stand there, put on a brave face and act as if they never bothered her. Or she would simply go outside, walk around the house and climb through a window. The second option happened more often than not.
