Monet Beauchamp [d6 cb 1] fin

Monet Beauchamp
District 6
Age: 16

My father gifted me my first helmet at age 7 and that's when I believe it all began. Helmet on, protecting my brain, protecting my bushy black hair, and I began to believe I was invincible. My 7th birthday I splashed through the streets, cutting open knees and elbows, chasing after the others, pushing down the others, prying each other down as we played king of the hill. Oh Monet. Be careful. With my helmet on, I believe I am invincible. When my dark brown eyes flash with my sudden anger, I act. We tumble down hills with the other school children, grabbing at hair, head butting with my helmet. We still run through the streets, screaming and arguing, but now we keep our hands to ourselves and to the baskets of shopkeepers then back to our pockets.

Father was escorted home once early from work. Stay away from the lab now, the Peacekeepers told him and they turned to me. Take care of him, girl. He’s got nothing now. The explosion was his fault. That’s why I take the chemicals from the lab, bring them to his side, to the burned nightstand to watch him try and reclaim his work. Your helmet protects your brain, he says, protect it always. Father says I’m smart. He says I’ll carry on his work. If I don’t get caught and ruin everything in between.

We're a team now. I know there’s something in his head. I know he has a plan, an idea, an invention, some kind of concoction that can cure Spattergoit, something that could change our lives—wealth, recognition, sometime to fill the void between a shamed father and a motherless wild child. We’ll just have to find it together.

odair??