Read and enjoy! (I hope.)
Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games. If I did, I'd be rich.
When the alarms went off before, it was a drill. Nobody was hurt, and once it was over we could all go back to class. The drills never felt real to me. The alarm was just an interruption of a lesson on coal by-products. I knew my father was safe.
When it happened for real, nobody knew, nobody expected it. We just assumed it was another drill, and we treated it as such. If only we knew what had been lost in the mines. Then we might have treated the situation appropriately.
I found Prim at her desk, waiting calmly for me, just like I told her to do. We ran outside to catch up with the group. When I saw the crowd, I thought something was wrong. When I felt the ground below my feet shake and saw the cloud of ash come out of the mineshaft, I knew something was wrong. I felt my heart grow cold, as if it already knew what had happened. My brain refused to believe it. "Prim, I'll be right back. Go find Mom." She nodded and ran off where our mom told us she would be if this were to ever happen.
I wound my way through the crowd and made my way to the mineshaft. I saw dozens of men and women come out, some with burns, some with broken bones, some just covered in ash. None of them were my father. My heart was slowly growing numb from the coldness that had enveloped it. The more miners I saw come up safely, the more I realized that my father wasn't one of them. But there were still more coming, so there was still a chance.
\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
It had been hours since anybody had climbed out of the mine. I was the only one still there, waiting. I had watched families grab a hold of their loved ones and hold them tight, crying and saying how worried they were. I had also watched people sink to their knees, sobbing when it finally hit them that whoever they were waiting for was never coming back. I wasn't like any of these people, my father was still alive. I just didn't see him come up. He's home with Mom and Prim, and he's getting ready to come get me. He isn't dead. He can't be. He can't.
I raced home, ignoring the cold air biting at my skin, ignoring my burning lungs. I had to get home and prove to myself that I was right, that he was alive. I was doubting myself, and I would explode if I didn't see him for myself. I could see my house now. I ran faster, but pulled up short when I saw the door open. A silhouette of a man was standing in the doorway. A smile spread across my face and I called out, unable to hold my happiness.
"Dad! I knew you were ok! I knew it! I-" I stopped short. The man in the doorway was not my dad. He was a complete stranger. He didn't act like he heard me, but just kept staring straight ahead. His face was covered with burns and he was holding a jar of ointment in his hand. I heard my mom talking inside.
"-believe it's permanent. He'll have to adjust to not hearing. Make sure he doesn't overexert himself. Come back to see me if any problems come up or something gets worse."
Very faintly I heard a woman say, "Thank you." Then I saw her walk towards the door. Her face was stained with tears and she looked defeated. She gently touched the man's elbow but he jumped like he'd been slapped. They walked out together, the woman hunched over and the man rocking from side to side like he was off balance. I went inside the house and closed the door, letting the coldness overtake me. There was no avoiding the truth now. He was gone.
\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
I thought a lot about death those next few days. What happens to us when we leave this world behind? Is there another place where we go? Or do we just cease to exist? What happens to all of our memories and knowledge of the world? Where do we go? Dad, where did you go?
It was a bit shorter than I planned, but I think it turned out ok. What do you think? You know what to do.
