So this is the first chapter of Wildfire, and I hope y'all like it. It's a little rough I know. Enjoy though.
Wildfire – Chapter One
When I woke up, the sky was still ink-y darkness, and the birds had not yet begun to sing. As I padded downstairs, avoiding the squeaky third step, I snatched my favorite sweater from the coat rack by the door and quickly yanked it on. The green fabric was frayed on the edges, and I sighed, because I knew that I would have to sew the edges again. Quite frankly, I just didn't want to waste money on buying another sweater when I could just fix it. Putting my sister through the District Two Training Academy, and just funding basic needs was a strain on my father and I.
It's been the three of us for as long as I can remember, and we manage well for a family of three. Father works from six in the morning until six at night, and my work hours are only slightly less. I, at least, like my work, being the town healer is useful at times. Sure there's the doctors at the Training Academy, but more often than not, going there after training makes you look weak; not to mention the accompanying cost that makes you wish you had just sucked in up in the first place.
I made breakfast for Clove and for Father, using up the last of the groceries. They had gone by faster than usual, and with the Games approaching, Clove was training harder than ever, and as a result, eating more than ever. Housework and cooking were my responsibility, along with all of my regular healing duties. Not that I could complain exactly. It was either this or the training academy, and that was much worse.
"'Morning Andy," Father said groggily, and I smiled at the childhood nickname. Mother had liked spices, so we were named Coriander and Clove. Go figure, "ready for another day?"
"Already looking forward to it." I said softly, placing his plate on the table, planting a small kiss on his cheek, and walking upstairs to wake Clove up.
My sister Clove was not something anyone could easily understand. Knowing even a fourth of Clove took years to understand, and even then you would have to move past her temper. Clove resembled me in no way shape or form; taking after my dad with dark brown eyes and hair, and a giant sprinkling of freckles. I took after my mother, fair skin and blonde hair, and wide pale blue eyes. It wasn't just our appearances that were opposites- it was our personalities too. Clove was violent and unpredictable, and her temper knew no bounds. I was the quiet and collected, preferring to take my time and to think.
"Clove, wake up. I already made breakfast." I poked and prodded her until a series of groans were emitted, allowing me to confirm whether or not she was still alive. In the mornings she was sometimes nearly impossible to wake up, and it just about drove me crazy trying to find ways to wake her up without getting myself killed.
"Must you always wake me up earlier than necessary?" She snapped, easing herself out of bed. At sixteen, she was tiny. Barely gracing my shoulders, Clove was a pint-size bundle of terror with a knife.
"Get changed." I snapped back, just barely ducking in time for her to sleepily toss her favorite knife at me. Her weapons of choice were knives, and when I say knives, I mean knives as long as your forearms at least. Not the best thing when she's had a bad day.
Clove trooped down the stairs fifteen minutes later, fresh uniform on, and her hair down for the only time today. As much as we got on each other's nerves, everyday since she had entered the Academy, I had combed and braided her hair. It was sort of our thing. I'd basically raised the girl, so I had to be both a mother and a sister for her. She inhaled her breakfast at record speed, and then patiently sat still as I combed my fingers through her hair dark brown hair and braided it through. The rhythmic motion of twining her chocolate brown hair together made me smile slightly, and once I was done I tied it at the bottom and patted her on the back.
"Are you nervous for today?" I asked softly, as soon as Father left for the quarry. Monday's were always rank day, and it was never pretty.
"Of course not." Clove's protective shell already was creeping up, and I instantly backed off. My sister was tender and loving when the situation called for it, and emotionless when needed. If anything, I acted like the over-emotional younger sibling, and she spent her entire life trying to protect me. I changed clothes quickly, and began the walk to the Academy. We lived a few miles, and by now, the walk was part of life, and didn't seem like anything. We didn't exchange a single word the entire way, and Clove did her best to ignore the stares of the younger students. Clove was famous around the district. Even in the communities on the outside, everyone knew that Clove was by far the obvious choice for the female tribute this year - a thought that both terrified me and made me insanely proud.
"I'll be back at four." I reminded Clove, linking our little fingers together before beginning the walk back home. Linking little fingers was about as much affection I could show around this place without greeting Clove into trouble for being weak. Affection was not something you showed off anywhere near the Academy. As I left the center, I could feel something off. By no means was I a fighter, but I knew more than most people.
Left, right, left, right- I could hear a walking pattern that was not my
own. Paranoia began to flood my veins, and my pulse started to hammer, my feet moving faster, and the steps behind me automatically copying my movements. There was someone clearly following me.
Panic clogging my throat, I turned sharply into an alley, and immediately broke into a run. The end of the alley was getting closer and closer, and I slipped my hand inside of my pocket, silent thanking Clove for insisting that I carry a knife with me at all times. With my hand curled around the hilt of the knife, I pushed my legs harder; the burning in my lungs becoming stronger with every step I took. I could not slow down now. I had heard too many stories about what had happened to girls who had been caught unarmed at the wrong time. I wasn't going to be one of them. I couldn't be.
Pounding steps echoed behind me, and I whipped around another corner, hoping to buy myself time, anything, just a chance for survival-
I drew my knife and held it out at the same time that I was thrown to the ground. A hand reached out, easily flicking the knife away with a laugh. Damn, I'm in trouble. My only defense was that knife, and given my lack of training, I was easy prey. So I settled for the easiest option. I opened my mouth and started to scream.
"Shut up, you little bitch." The man above me snarled, bringing his hand down across my face- hard. My teeth rattled, and the stinging pain that accompanied it shocked me. I glanced at my attacker quickly, easily recognizing the academy crest embossed on the black fabric of his shirt. He must have followed me. Think Andy, think, I thought over and over, willing myself to remember something, anything, from the times that Clove had thought to try to teach me to protect myself.
Unlike her, my body wasn't one big muscle, and the hulking mass above me was definitely stronger. I ripped one of my small hands from his grasps, lucky that both of us were sweaty, and used it to push against the pressure point in his neck. He flinched, and that was enough to allow me to run. My entire chest felt like it was on fire, and I could feel fatigue settling into my bones. Stupid, stupid mistake. I was weak, and that's why he caught me once more. Again I was thrown to the ground on my back, my body taking the full impact this time. The blood from where he had hit me was beginning to pool in my mouth, and I could taste nothing but bile and the revolting coppery taste of blood that I knew all too well.
"You're a fighter," He said, voice too low to mean anything good. I had managed to get only one hit on him the entire time, and I tensed in preparation of the pain that I knew would accompany it, "I can fix that." He whispered, and the few droplets on blood from his mouth dripped onto me. This was the end of the line. He was rape me, and then leave me here in the middle of the street for everyone to see. I was going to be one of the hundreds of girls who had been stripped of everything but her own skin and then left for the entire world to see. And Clove would have to walk home alone.
He reached behind him and used his own knife to slowly drag it across my neck, making a shallow cut that would definitely scar the pale skin just above the hollow at the base of my neck.
"One move, and I slice your throat open." The knife held steadily against my throat, I couldn't fight back as he began to rip my shirt from my body, buttons popping off and scattering across the paved roads. If I was lucky, I would live. If I wasn't, things would get a lot worse. Clove wouldn't be able to go to the academy anymore- oh god that's all she's ever worked for, I can't just take that away; it'd be all my fault, and my fault alone. Why can't I be a big sibling and not some pathetic for once-
The hulking mass above me was removed, and trance-like I moved my head towards the source of the noise. Blonde hair and barely contained muscles flashed around in a scuffle, ending with my savior picking up my discarded knife and holding it to the man's neck.
"I won't hesitate to do it. Give me one reason why I shouldn't." I strained my ears harder to hear his whispers, and the deadly monotone he used chilled me right to the bone. The only sound emitted from the man was whimpers, and the blonde haired one slowly, but deliberately, drew the knife across his throat- deep enough to scar heavily, but light enough that he would suffer, and not bleed out all at once on the streets- just as the man had done with me seconds before.
I flinched, and the small breakfast I had eaten earlier made its appearance on the road. I gagged again, heaving several more times, even though I knew there was nothing left in my stomach to throw up. The thought of that man's hands on me brought on a whole new round of gagging and nausea, but I clamped a hand over my mouth, and with a small sniffle pushed myself up.
I wiped the vomit from my mouth and chin, and pushed myself up, teetering on my toes once I was standing.
"What do you want?" I deadpanned, eyes downcast. The blonde one was too wearing an academy uniform, and I guessed that he was probably late this morning.
"Your gratefulness is astonishing. If I hadn't been here you probably would be lying naked and dead in the street." I bit back a retort, and silently begged that he would just leave. Of course I was grateful, but I did know what guys like him expected in return, and I wasn't repaying him in sexual favors.
"I was handling it." He snorted in reply, flicking his blonde hair out of the way.
"Handling? You were just about to be raped in the street!" I glared at him, my eyes widening once I got a good look at him. No wonder he was able to pull that man off of me so easily. His muscles were lean, and with every movement I could see them flexing. His hands were huge, and well-calloused from training. Everything about him screamed power, and I was intimidated. I didn't have the advantage, and I didn't like it.
"Thank you." I said through my teeth.
"My name is Cain by the way. Cain Malloy. You've probably heard of me at the Training Academy." Arrogant. Why am I not surprised? As much as I hated to admit it, all the trained careers of Two were the same-cocky, arrogant, rude- all brawn and not brains.
"I can't say I have." I said, turning on my heels and beginning the walk-turned-run home.
"So why isn't a girl like you at the Academy?" This guy wasn't giving up. He had to be at least a year or two younger than me, and it seemed that the 'don't ask' rule meant absolutely nothing to him. Not only that, Cain seemed to be the perpetually sunny type too, seeing as his personality immediately changed and he began to smile from ear to ear.
"I don't train." I cut in.
"Whoa. I've never heard of that. I thought everyone of age in the district went to the Academy." Cain's blonde eyebrows shot up his forehead in surprise, and the expression was gone as quickly as it had appeared.
"Never mind. So what do you do?"
"Are you always this nosy?" I snapped back, whipping around to face him.
"Okay, okay; you caught me. But what do you actually do?" His hands raised in surrender and then lowered as he fell into step beside me.
"I'm healer. Maybe you've heard of me." I mocked from earlier, casting a satisfied smile in his direction.
"Haha, very funny. You're that girl aren't you?" Unfortunately, I was that girl. I was somewhat of legend around District Two. Apparently I was the only girl in the last twenty or so years to refuse training; and down at the Academy, my name was still gossiped about by the catty girls in the locker rooms.
"Unfortunately." I left it at that, walking away and going home, my body still shaken and trembling from what had transpired minutes ago. I could still hear Cain's footsteps faintly behind me, and it comforted me to know that he was there for me.
"Aren't you going to get in trouble for being late?" I shouted back at him.
"Probably not," he smirked and continued, "I'm the second best in my age division."
"And how old are you, exactly?"
"How about this, girl. You tell me your name and age, and I'll tell you my age and follow you home."
"I'm eighteen." The wind carried my soft reply to him. Something about giving my name to him scared me. I had only ever had one real friend, and no one liked me. Everyone who went to the Academy hated me because I dropped out of training, and as a result, the entire town ostracized me.
"And you name?" Prompted Cain. I really did want to know his age If he was of age, he could keep an eye on Clove at training, something I would never be able to do.
"Coriander Blackard. Everyone calls me Andy though."
"I'm sixteen." I nodded slowly, keeping my pace up. We walked quietly for a few minutes, and neared my street.
"I'll see you around Cain."
Cain followed, keeping a fairly far distance between us the whole time. I could see him leave only once I was safely inside with the door locked. Despite what had just happened, I knew I would have to take care of people soon, so I went upstairs, tossing the remainders of my clothes in the trash, and putting on a clean set from my drawers. Going into the living-room-turned-care-room, I got out my supplies, and set to work on myself. The cut on my neck was no longer freely bleeding, but it did need to be cleaned and bandaged. I washed the cut out, and applied the least amount of disinfectant as possible. Everything was so expensive, and I hated to use any of my supplies on myself. I cut a fresh strip of cloth, and bandaged the cut, taking care to make sure it wasn't very noticeable. Not long after, four knocks sounded on the heavy wooden door, signaling someone who needed my assistance. The Academy already didn't like me, and the fact that I took money away from the Infirmary there by treating people at my house definitely wouldn't go over well with them. Four quick knocks meant someone wanted my care, and four loud bangs meant that it was an emergency. I opened the door, letting the events of the day slide out of my mind and let a small smile slide onto my face instead.