alone//[sarita one-shot]

Sarita Wolfe

Break the silence, damn the dark, damn the light

District Four was a completely new world. While District Eight had been chilly and covered in a thin film of fraying cotton and fibers dancing through the air, District Four was warm. Well, humid actually. Sarita was not used to this kind of heat and often felt dazed during the hottest parts of the day. She tried to keep something over her head at all times, partly because of the sun but also there was a part of her that was still paranoid about being recognized. It was her siblings that had been on TV, not her. Except... when their games came down to the final eight a Capitol camera crew came to the cold house and interviewed them. Sarita had to talk about Bran and Aria as they were off across the country stuck in a fight to the death.

She remembered watching the interviews when they aired. Curtis Grant's little siblings speaking very highly of their older brother, the little one was obviously trying not to cry. There others- the eventual Victor's family spoke too. But taking up two tributes' worth of interviews were Sarita, her mother, Rajas and his wife Jeyne, little Rickon too young to have anything to say but smiled wiggled his feet over the edge of his chair. The director of the piece was excited to move them around their home and set them up just right for their interview.

"What a perfect family," she'd said before asking them questions about their all but dead brother and sister.

That was years ago, no one would remember her from so many Games past when there was a fresh batch of tributes to care about.

Living in a new district by one's self was incredibly scary, especially for Sarita Wolfe. The girl had been locked up in her parent's house for years with nothing but needlepoint and her mother's sobs for companionship. She was pale, socially stunted, and unaware of her surroundings. Whenever a Peackeeper would walk by her heart would jump into her throat. Act natural she'd think, but she'd almost always cover her face more and slip into an alleyway.

Speaking of alleyways, they were her new best friend. She had slept in the barracks for the District Eight volunteers when she first arrived but having slipped away she had no where to go. So, against all her sensibilities and her entire upbringing, she had wrapped her scarf around her shoulders and huddled into a corner of crates in a damp alley and stayed there for the night. It wasn't the most restful sleep she's ever gotten but it served a purpose.

The nice thing about District Four is the abundance of water. After days of wandering the district Sarita was a sorry sight. Her clothes were filthy, her hair was a knotted mess and she smelled less than sweet. Venturing down to the coastline she clambered over some rocks until she found a little cover just off the main line of docks. The rocks were tall enough to hide any eyes and the water was only about waist deep. Slowly, keeping an eye out for intruders, Sarita had removed and washed her clothes. The cool water against her skin was a welcomed shock. She submerged her head, combing through her hair with her fingers. She scrubbed her clothes in the little alcove, laying them on a rock to dry in the sun. Until they did, she sat on a rock in the cove, under the cover of a tiny shelf of stone. It was dry where she was sitting and enough room to lay down completely. This spot was away from people and Peacekeepers and would provide some shelter when it rained.

Mulling over the options she had seen thus far, Sarita decided to make this little cove home. With a somewhat roof over her head, Sarita's stomach rumbled as if to call her attention to the next problem on her list to address.

She couldn't fish. That was something she knew coming to the district, and she doubted there would be any fish in her little cove. With this in mind, she dressed in her now dry clothes and slipped out of her new home. Starting towards the busier streets, she kept an eye out for grubby looking children. Street kids have to eat too, don't they?

She didn't find many homeless children, just people hauling goods, selling things and mostly a lot of noise.

"Oi! Pretty girl!" Sarita looked to the side unsure if the voice spoke to her. An older man, fat and tan from the sun sat behind a table, curling his chubby finger at her begging her to come closer. "Yes you there! Come closer."

Cautiously, Sarita stepped towards his table, her muscles tensed to run if she had to.

"Pretty girl, you hungry?" her eyes drifted to his booth where he was selling nuts, and fish, but also he had a fire going and was selling stew from a pot. It's aroma, while unfamiliar, was intoxicating. Her stomach ached being so close to food and not being able to eat any.

"Y.. Yes," she mumbled, her eyes focused on the bubbling pot.

"I'll cut you deal- two coins for a bowl just for the pretty girl," he laughed. It was a deep throaty laugh that made her hair stand on end.

"I don't have any money," she said, looking up at the man and backing away from the booth.

"No money? A little bird like you out here by yourself and with no money" he said looking her up and down. "I am a charitable man, I'll still give you some."

"Really?" she said stepping close to the table once more, her eyes flickering between his face and the stew.

"Really, all it will cost is a kiss."

Sarita's hopeful smile fell. The man looked down on her, his eyes still scanning her.

"No thank you," she said, quickly turning away and slipping into the crowd of people.

"Your loss!" the man's voice called after her.


Sarita walked around some more, trying to find anything to eat. After having such hearty meals in District Eight for her whole life, trying to scavenge on the streets seemed impossible. No shopkeepers were throwing out any bruised fruit, in fact when Sarita got close to any shops a lot of times she was shooed away. It must have been the desperation in her eyes. The businesses provided useless, so she ventured to the docks. There was nothing but fresh caught fish and Sarita didn't have a clue on what to do with it. She couldn't build a fire, she couldn't scale a fish, and she certainly couldn't eat it raw. And that was if she could even get one. The fish were being sorted and counted as the ships came back to dock and the work day was coming to a close. Slipping under the docks she sat in the sand resting from walking all over the district. Her lips were chapped and her bones seemed to ache. She curled up on her side, laying in the sand, running her fingers through the damp grains. A tiny crab like creature with a little shell popped up from the sand. Surprised, she sat up and stared as the little animal scuttled across the sand. She reached out and grabbed it by its shell, and stared at it for a moment.

No.

She set the poor thing down in the sand again, and walked up the beach towards town. All the workers were heading home but some stopped to purchase food for dinner on the way. On the dirty cobblestones, Sarita got in line behind some tall fisherman. The smell of food was making her light headed, but she stayed standing the whole time. She was the very last in line as the sun started to dip into the sea. The man in front of her got his bowl of soup and when the large man saw her face he leaned on his counter and looked down at her.

"Change yer mind?" he chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," she said quickly, her voice just above a whisper.

"You girls always do," he said, picking up a bowl and slopping some stew into it. He held out the stew for her but when Sarita reached out to take it he yanked it back. He motioned with his free hand for her to come behind his counter. Sarita looked both ways down the street and seeing no one to witness, she slipped behind the counter. Her stomach was a pit of guilt, shame, and hunger all mixed together. The man leaned down and Sarita quickly shut her eyes, not wanting to see what was happening. His lips were rough and wet and stayed on hers for an awful long time. She felt the man's hand in the small of her back pulling her closer to him. She kept her eyes closed, squeezing them tight like she had back home when she heard a noise in the hall. Pull the covers over your heard and keep your eyes closed and nothing can hurt you.

"Here ya are."

Sarita took her soup as the man shoved her out back into the street.

"Remember girl, the price goes up."

She didn't look back. She ran into the nearest alleyway and sat against the stone, gulping down her stew and ignoring the tears that stained her face.

She should have stayed in District Eight.