It was very dark in the cellar underneath our house. The only light available was a small oil lamp, which was used sparingly. I held the unlit lamp in my hand in an effort to steady it, my other gripping a small handgun tightly. My little brother was hiding his head behind my shoulder, whimpering softly.
"Be quiet." I told him, listening for any sign of movement upstairs. He immediately became quiet, but I could feel his shaky breath on my arm. Putting down the lamp, I wrapped my arm around his small body and held him close. He was only nine years old, way too young to worry about the rebellion and whether we were going to survive or not. I began humming the Mockingjay song to him-the only song I could think of at the moment-so quietly that I could barely even hear myself. The song sent shivers down my spine, but it seemed to calm him down, so I kept going.
As I hummed, my mind went back to our father and the day that he warned me about the rebellion. "They're coming to Two," he told me as he put all of our food into a box. His actions were hurried, and he had a worried air about him. "They're going to invade and take over." His words scared me.
"Where are we going?" I asked, watching him close up the box of food. He didn't answer, instead giving me the heavy box and searching through the whole house. "Dad?" I tried again, struggling to keep the box in my arms, "Where are we going?" My dad pulled out a handgun and examined it, then tucked it underneath his belt.
"You're going to take your brother and hide in the cellar until the rebellion leaves. I'm going to the Nut to help the people in there."
The Nut was the big mountain that held most of Two's population, and the base of operations for striking against the rebellion. I knew that my father wanted to fight against the rebellion, but I didn't think that he would leave his children behind.
"Dad, I don't understand."
"There's no time to explain," he said sharply, "Go get your brother." I bit my tongue and went to the bedroom where my brother was sleeping. Whenever Dad was upset, you always did what he told you to do. He was fast asleep in our bed, holding onto his teddy bear tightly.
"Hey," I whispered to him, putting down the box, "It's time to wake up." He slowly opened his eyes.
"What's going on?" he said tiredly, rubbing the crust out of his eyes.
"I don't know," I said, "But Dad wants us to go in the cellar and hide." He sat up, still gripping his teddy bear.
"But it's scary in there." he said, "And there's big bugs in there, too."
I tried to put on a brave smile for him. "I'll make sure all of the bugs stay away from you, okay? But right now, Dad wants us to go and meet him in the front room, okay?"
He nodded and got out of bed, putting on his slippers and robe as I picked up the box. We walked into the front room and saw Dad in his Peacekeeping uniform, prying open the floorboards to reveal the cellar door underneath. He opened the doors and snatched the box away from me, stomping down the stairs. We looked at each other before walking down behind him. Dad put the box down in a far corner, surrounded by tall wire shelves filled with supplies.
"I want you to go upstairs and find the matches in the kitchen. Come back as soon as possible." My dad said, pointing at my brother. He nodded and ran back upstairs, dragging his bear behind him.
"Come here," Dad told me, taking the gun out of his belt. I grew nervous as he showed me how to shoot and reload it. I could tell that he didn't want to teach me any of this, but he pushed the gun into my hands as my brother came back with the matches.
"Only use it if it's absolutely necessary." he told me, looking me in the eye. I nodded slowly, taking one last look at my father. His close-cropped hair had grown over the last year, revealing more gray than blonde. His blue eyes were so dark that they almost looked purple at times, especially now under the light of the dim florescent lights. He could've been called handsome at one point, but life had done too much to him.
I tucked the gun into my waistband, just like my dad did, as he took the matches from my brother, telling him to be a good boy and listen to me, because I was in charge and that he had to be very quiet until he came back.
"Where are you going, Dad?" he asked, his eyes shining with fear.
"I'm going to help the other people in the Nut. I'll only be gone a few days."
"Promise you'll come back?"
Dad looked close to tears as he pulled him into a tight hug. "I love you so much. Listen to your sister, alright?"
He hugged him back, tears spilling out of his eyes. Dad let go of him and turned to me, giving me an equally tight hug.
"Take care of him." he told me, "Keep him calm and quiet."
I nodded again, trying my best not to cry. He never promised that he would come back. Dad let go of me and walked back to the cellar door. "I'm going to turn out the light so that no one knows you're here," he said, "Use the oil lamp on the second shelve only if you need to."
He grew quiet, studying our faces. "I love you." he said as he closed the door to the cellar. A few seconds later, the cellar turned pitch black. That was the last time we saw our dad. About a day later, we heard a huge explosion outside, around the direction of the Nut.
My brother started to cry, and this was the only time I let him. For the rest of the time, I kept him as quiet as possible by holding him and humming softly. We only used the oil lamp when we searched for food, and it was out as soon as we finished eating. We followed Dad's instructions to the letter, and no one came. I had lost track of the days after the explosion, but it felt like we were in the cellar for at least two weeks.
"I miss Dad." He suddenly said, startling me out of the past.
"I know." I told him, "I miss him, too."
Suddenly, the bang of a door being knocked down resounded throughout the cellar. He grabbed my arm tightly, holding his breath. I stayed perfectly still as footsteps pounded through the house. I was tempted to shout out and let whoever was up there get us out, but Dad's warning made me stay quiet.
After what felt like a century, the muffled words, "All clear!" rang out and the footsteps went away.
I sighed, almost relieved. "That was-" my brother started to say before I clasped my hand around his mouth. A single pair of footsteps thudded above us slowly, almost mimicking a heartbeat. They stopped for a minute, then continued moving around, occasionally stopping to stomp in one spot a few times. My hand gripped the gun even tighter as they stomped where the cellar door was.
"Go and hide," I told my brother as quietly as possible, "Take the lamp with you. No matter what happens, stay quiet." He nodded and let go of my arm, his hand searching for the lamp.
Another stomp from above.
"Go!" I said, wrapping my other hand around the gun. I stood up slowly and put my finger on the trigger, ready to protect my brother at any cost.
"I found something!" a voice called out from above as something banged on the cellar door. I heard him shuffle around the room, looking for a place to hide. The cellar doors opened, illuminating the darkness and blinding me for a minute. I ducked away from the light, crouching behind a wire shelf. I rubbed my eyes as they adjusted to the light, watching a man's shadow come down the steps. I took a deep breath, gripped the gun, and stood up from behind the shelf.
"Stay where you are!" I shouted at the man. My voice was hoarse after whispering for so long, but I couldn't let it get to me. The man I held at gunpoint was much taller than me, and was pointing a rifle at my head. It was hard to make out his facial features from where I stood, but from what I could see, he appeared to be handsome. The man looked surprised and lowered his weapon a little.
"You're just a girl." He said, looking at me. My hands were shaking so badly I was scared I would miss.
"I'm not going to hurt you." the man said, "My name is Gale. I need you to put down the gun." I kept the gun up, trying to aim for his head. The man-Gale-wasn't wearing a Peacekeeper's uniform. Instead, he wore dark war clothes that I saw on the rebel soldiers.
"You're a rebel." I said, "I can't trust you." Gale lowered his gun a little more until the barrel pointed at the ground. "You can trust me." he said in a calm voice, like he was talking to a scared animal, "I won't hurt you."
The light from upstairs was still blinding, but my eyes were slowly adjusting, making out more of Gale's face. He had dark hair and olive skin, and his eyes were dark gray. I squinted at him, realizing that I had seen him before.
"You were on the television." I said, "You were with the Mockingjay."
Gale looked confused for a second, then he smiled at me. "You've seen me before. So, you know you can trust me."
"You're still a rebel." I snapped back, "My dad told me not to trust rebels." Gale glanced around the room, and I prayed that my brother was still hiding.
"Where is your dad?" Gale asked, looking back at me, "Is anyone else here with you?" I didn't answer. Instead, I focused on keeping my hands still enough for a good shot. "What's your name?" he asked.
I stared at him for a minute before pulling the trigger. Gale bent forward in pain, and I kicked him in the stomach before searching for my brother. I looked through the shelves hurriedly, knowing I only had a few seconds. I saw his blonde hair from a large basket, and pulled him out.
"Are you okay?" he asked me as I grabbed his hand and pulled him behind me. "I'm fine, but we need to go." I said, checking the gun one last time. I ran to the cellar doors with him in tow, preparing to fight our way out and search for Dad. When we got to the doors, I stopped and held the gun up to Gale's face. He had gotten up somehow, and only looked a bit dazed. To my dismay, the bullet had only nicked his ear.
"That wasn't very nice." he said, "Put the gun down and we can talk."
"Get out of my way." I said, pushing my brother behind me. I had to protect him. Gale looked at him for a moment before returning his attention back to me.
"I know you're scared right now, and I know you want to protect him, but I need you to trust me in order to do that. Can you do that?"
I stared at him for a long time until I felt a small hand tighten around mine.
"I'm scared." I heard him whimper. I looked at him for a second, and saw that he was crying. I instantly felt horrible. I was literally dragging my little brother into a war-zone with nothing but a handgun to protect us. I looked back at Gale, silently debating whether to trust him or not.
"You won't hurt him?" I asked Gale. He nodded.
"I won't hurt him. Just hand me the gun." After another second, I turned the gun over to him, who quickly stashed it in his empty holster.
"Okay," he said, holding out his hand, "Let's get you out of here." I looked at his hand for a moment before turning around and picking up my brother. He was heavy, but it was better than trusting the rebel any more than I had to. Gale sighed and walked up the steps, calling out warnings and orders. I hesitated at the foot of the steps, squinting against the sunlight. "We're going to be fine, right?" he asked, looking at my face intently. I nodded slowly.
"We'll be fine, Ray. I promise."