living in the shadow {mattio}
Nov 2, 2016 8:00:07 GMT -5
Post by Lyn𝛿is on Nov 2, 2016 8:00:07 GMT -5
terry araragi
To the victor go the spoils, that's how the saying goes.
Well, tributes makin' it to the final day every other games didn't do jack for District Seven, and money has dried up for us like grass in the summer. We've been luckier than most people, I know, Ma and Cobalt and me workin' keeps a roof over our head and food in our mouths. She promised us when Pa died that she'd never let us go hungry, and she's made good on that promise.
But I see it wearin' her down. Maybe I just never noticed earlier, but the other mornin' I took a good look at Ma and she looked so much older than her forty-some years. The way she couldn't help lettin' out a hiss of pain and clutching at her back as she bent down to tie her shoes.
"Ma, y'all right?" I asked.
"I'll be fine," she answered, her words belying her taut grimace.
"We could probably get you some morphling," Viri piped up, but was quickly silenced by Ma's narrowed glare.
"I'm not havin' none of that Capitol shit," she said in a low voice. It's the first time I've heard Ma swear, as far as I can remember. "It's too expensive. And I don't want to owe them like that."
Ma's right that we can't afford it. We watched her getting worse and worse, still dragging herself out of bed and to work until the factory foreman finally fired her. People knew better than to taunt me about it by now, and Ma really didn't need any more humiliation than what she musta been feelin' already.
We're family, after all. And no matter how much Ma believes in self-sufficiency, family don't look down on each other even if someone gets sick or hurt. The least we could do is take care of her after all the years she spent takin' care of us. It just hurts to not know what to do.
But sometimes, chance hands you a solution.
It was purely by luck that I stumbled upon the two boys exchangin' little packages of herbs behind the backs of the supervisors. That was somethin' cheap, and just as importantly, not controlled by the Capitol. Not that I had any experience in buying illegal shit. I managed to get only two things from them - a name, Shae Dee, and an address - but that's enough to find him.
Everyone says that this is the wrong part of town to be in at dusk. That only misfortune will come from such dealings, that they are far more dangerous even than getting on the wrong side of a Peacekeeper. I dunno if I believe that. Could just be because teachers and Peacekeepers are most of the ones sayin' such things. I still have my axe with me, I tell myself, and so I have nothing to fear. Besides, Ma needs this. She doesn't deserve to be in so much pain.
I take a deep breath, and knock on the door.
Well, tributes makin' it to the final day every other games didn't do jack for District Seven, and money has dried up for us like grass in the summer. We've been luckier than most people, I know, Ma and Cobalt and me workin' keeps a roof over our head and food in our mouths. She promised us when Pa died that she'd never let us go hungry, and she's made good on that promise.
But I see it wearin' her down. Maybe I just never noticed earlier, but the other mornin' I took a good look at Ma and she looked so much older than her forty-some years. The way she couldn't help lettin' out a hiss of pain and clutching at her back as she bent down to tie her shoes.
"Ma, y'all right?" I asked.
"I'll be fine," she answered, her words belying her taut grimace.
"We could probably get you some morphling," Viri piped up, but was quickly silenced by Ma's narrowed glare.
"I'm not havin' none of that Capitol shit," she said in a low voice. It's the first time I've heard Ma swear, as far as I can remember. "It's too expensive. And I don't want to owe them like that."
Ma's right that we can't afford it. We watched her getting worse and worse, still dragging herself out of bed and to work until the factory foreman finally fired her. People knew better than to taunt me about it by now, and Ma really didn't need any more humiliation than what she musta been feelin' already.
We're family, after all. And no matter how much Ma believes in self-sufficiency, family don't look down on each other even if someone gets sick or hurt. The least we could do is take care of her after all the years she spent takin' care of us. It just hurts to not know what to do.
But sometimes, chance hands you a solution.
It was purely by luck that I stumbled upon the two boys exchangin' little packages of herbs behind the backs of the supervisors. That was somethin' cheap, and just as importantly, not controlled by the Capitol. Not that I had any experience in buying illegal shit. I managed to get only two things from them - a name, Shae Dee, and an address - but that's enough to find him.
Everyone says that this is the wrong part of town to be in at dusk. That only misfortune will come from such dealings, that they are far more dangerous even than getting on the wrong side of a Peacekeeper. I dunno if I believe that. Could just be because teachers and Peacekeepers are most of the ones sayin' such things. I still have my axe with me, I tell myself, and so I have nothing to fear. Besides, Ma needs this. She doesn't deserve to be in so much pain.
I take a deep breath, and knock on the door.
