LAVERA CHO | DISTRICT 4
Jun 28, 2014 12:51:34 GMT -5
Post by shrimp on Jun 28, 2014 12:51:34 GMT -5
L A V E R A C H O
"HE USED TO CALL ME POISON
LIKE I WAS POISON I V Y"
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LIKE I WAS POISON I V Y"
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lavera cho
sixteen
district 4
odair
sixteen
district 4
odair
When they laid Nika to rest six feet beneath the sand dunes, there was a delicate crown of forget-me-nots placed gently around her head.
Lavera only cried when she had gotten back from the funeral, washing the sea-salt smell from her skin late at night after the rest of her family had gone to bed after the inevitable. She had to be strong, after all - for if the twin sister was strong enough not to cry, the rest of the family would have to follow suit. So she didn't. Nika would understand, we were two peas in a pod.
The two girls would always run around the small garden their mother had planted, saying hello to the bees and the beans, the Zig-Zag Irises and the Black-Eyed Susans. "Flowers always have really weird names," Nika would exclaim, to which Lavera would say "Of course they do, that way they both look and sound awesome".
As the humid summer breezes began to snap at their thin strands of jet-black hair they would braid strands of yarrow into it, for flowers always distracted from the split ends. Their sun-kissed skin would gain more freckles by the hour and their laughs would reverberate into the kitchen, where their father would be cooking dinner. Mother and Auntie Anne would always stumble into the house as the sun set, drenched in seawater and starving from a day in the ocean.
They lived like that until Nika fell ill, bedridden and coughing up blood. The laughter was always a bit more stale, laced with a bitter iron stench that permeated the house until Auntie Anne visited less and less. To make up for it Lavera would place bouquets of Queen Anne's Lace by Nika's bedside, telling Nika stories and weaving together bracelets of pink roses and lisanthium. The last time Nika saw Auntie Anne was at her wedding, when they wheeled Nika in at the last minute and she spent much of the reception sitting at the table, Lavera by her side in a baby's breath crown (she had been the flower girl) that matched Anne's own crown. That was the last time Nika laughed so loudly, ate to her fill, hugged her family.
Her brown eyes stared at the sky forevermore a few weeks later, and Lavera was silently sobbing, shaking her sister's arm and pleading for her to get up, to speak, to do something and not be gone, not when they had so many years ahead of them, so many reapings to attend (and Lavera would have volunteered for her sister in a heartbeat, who knows how many skills she had lost by not attending Training during her illness). Only later, once she had dried her tears and closed Nika's eyes, had she run to her parent's bedroom. They hadn't gone to bed - "something wasn't right," her mother would later say.
After Nika ascended to a higher plane, Lavera knew she had to live for the both of them. That was the only way to honor her after all. Flower crowns doubled in their production, soon at least half of her class was buying them from her for fashion statements. She tried to grow louder and louder, for maybe if she laughed loud enough even Nika would be able to laugh along with her. She trained twice as hard at the Career Center, partied twice as hard at her friend's houses, stayed up twice as late, swam twice as far, worked four times as hard. She learned how to bake, how to cut clams on the half shell, how to skewer both tributes and pork. Determination and curiosity became as much a part of her as Nika was - no, is.
It was hard for her parents to take, they spoke to her less and less as she rebelled against their caution. "We just want you to be safe," her dad argued as she complained about her curfew. Her mother had stopped speaking to her a long time ago, electing to show her love through teaching her how to catch the largest amount of muscles in one go (it was too painful, too difficult to look at Lavera's face because all she saw was the daughter that she lost all those years ago. She hoped that one day Lavera would forgive her).
As the years passed Lavera grew taller, slim with a dancer's physique. The freckles were banished with bits of foundation and her chestnut eyes were always sparkling with her new idea. A bit fickle, she jumped from one plan to the next, but her endgame always remained the same, she explained to Aunt Anne one day as they nibbled on chocolate cookies. Her Aunt's belly had grown round and large - twins, she was expecting.
"I want to open a flower shop."
"Lavera, that's really a great idea. Really, it is. But-"
"I know, I know it sounds ridiculous I mean I don't even know how to arrange flowers for huge parties much less even run my own business. But everyone's happier when they see flowers and they all look even more beautiful with them. Remember your wedding? You looked absolutely gorgeous with that flower crown."
"I just... Nika always looked so happy, ya know? Even when she looked like well, like shit, she got just a little bit happier when she saw the flowers."
Her Aunt's smile faded a bit. Lavera hadn't spoken about Nika since her death five years ago.
"I want to make people happy, Auntie. I just feel like flowers are the best way to do it."
"You might not make any money, Lavera. There's only so many weddings you can do."
"Well there's always funerals."
They both inwardly winced.
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