Post by mauve morganstern • 3f [kiah] on Dec 1, 2020 6:46:13 GMT -5
n a n e t t e .
* * *
My names Nanette Carter, Nan for short. A name with a history, one filled with blood, filled with pain, filled with death. My ancestors told the story of the two lovers who had died, in the 4th Hunger Games way back when the war was coming to an end. They tell the story of how they had died in each others arms, as beasts tore them to shreds, as the screams of the crowd- roaring in excitement- was a lullaby to send them into eternal slumber.
It sounded like a heart breaking cinematic film, one about two lovers who had just found each other of a field of blood, only to have their love ripped away from them by a cruel, twisted fate. Almost as though it had been told and re-told over the years that details had smeared. They say Nanette died by having her heart eaten by a serpent that was two times my size.That it wrapped itself around her small body and buried itself into her chest cavity, tearing her open from the inside.
They say that a beast with large horns tore Dustins head from his body, only after he watched the love of his life die.
The Carter's were originally from district Eleven. My mum often told me the story of how we came to call district four our home. She told me that my great, great, great? Grandmother left district Eleven after the death of her husband. When I hear the story, my heart always breaks. Not for the grandmother, but for the child that she left behind. The child that she never saw again, never heard of again until she heard the rumours of his reaping. I didn't know what I would do if mum had of left me when dad left. It's sad to think that Dustin Carter died abandoned by the one person who was supposed to love you unconditionally.
* * *
Mum and I lived in a small cottage by the ocean, a few kilometres outside the main town. Mum preferred the seclusion that came with being surrounded by dunes and the sounds of the ocean. She was a marine biologist and right now was study the movements and behavioural patterns of a pod of dolphins not far from our home.
Ever since I was little the ocean bad been my second home. Forever attached to mum's hip whenever she went out for an exhibition. She used to tell me all about the ocean. She taught me to swim the moment I learnt to float on my own.
She never planned to get sick, the cancer that ate away at her for the inside just crept up on us both. Only diagnosed a few months ago she refused to give up her work. My brother had begged her to quit her work, begged her to rest, to move us closer to the hospital. But mum had blatantly refused, claiming that without her work, without she children she wouldn't know who she was.
After a while we stopped arguing with her.
My oldest brother, Callan, had not taken well to it, leaving, the door slamming loudly behind him. I know that he had not meant to hurt mum, but she cried for two days after he left. I'm still working on him, but I know as the months grow, his resolve is starting to weaken. Sooner rather than later he will come around, I just hope its before the cancer gets to her, otherwise I know that he will never forgive himself. But he tended to be as stubborn as myself, hating to admit that we might had been in the wrong.
"Mum! Mum!" The winds had started to chill, the breeze picking up, and yet she still stood with her feet in the water, notebook in hands. She often told me that I worried too much, that I needed to start putting myself before others. "Mum it's freezing!"Grabbing a towel from off a chair in the kitchen I jog over to her, handing it to her. "You know you can't risk getting sick!"
"Nan, stop fretting," she groans, taking the towel as she steps out of the ocean, wiping off her feet with the towel. "I'm not some delicate piece of china-"
"No! But whether you like it or not, Mum, you are sick! And- and you need to start taking better care of yourself! You- you don't get to leave us like dad did." The silence is drawn out, Mum looking at me with her mouth slightly a gap.
Fuck. I'd gone too far. I often forgot to think before I spoke.
"Mum, I'm sorry-"
"No, Nan." She moves to pull me in for a hug, and I wrap my arms around her, neatly my chin on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, you're right." Pulling away she smiles at me, "come on, lets cook dinner."