Disclaimer! (: Hi guys, Laine here with a new story ^_^ This one I am particularly proud of c: Still in the making but it's going really good so far! This is going to be a REALLY long story, so watch out! It'll have a TON of chapters, but hopefully it will be worth it. Thank you to Kate2623 for the PM you sent; it has motivated me to get this story on the road &out to the public! Thank you to all who read my stories &those who support my love of writing; I hope this doesn't disappoint!
Sunny
I open my eyes, inhaling the faint but fresh scent of fabric dyes and spools of thread that announce, "We are District 8." The light is dim but through the dusty air I can see the faint rays of sunshine, telling that it is about sunrise. My mind pieces together things for a quick moment before I am overcome with a hot, fast-paced fear. My breath stops and then quickens, my face flushing. Oh no. Not today. It can't be today.
"Marianne?" I call out worriedly as my vision makes out more details of the rectangular single room that makes up our house; a thick, beige blanket stained with various offenses; bare wooden walls; a table with stale food and old dishes sitting on it.
I hear footsteps coming from my left. Then I see her, her hair in a braid. She stands at the wooden doorway for a moment, pale and almost unseen in the shadows. But her light seafoam green eyes almost shine at me like a cat's. She goes back to the small room that the doorway leads into, then comes back with a bowl.
"Luna Bella."
She comes to me, placing at my side a small bowl of stale, quickly dying oats about two days old. I eat my small fill, forcing myself to swallow the bland, hard grains, then allow Marianne to munch on the rest. She places the bowl down on a small wooden nightstand that is uneven with knife-marks and "table-scars", then hugs me close to her.
I inhale her scent. She always smells of almonds and faintly of the woods after the rain. It comforts me. It was her arms, nine years ago, that I ran into when I had no one else to turn to. She always knew how to comfort me.
I let her stroke my hair, lapping her up her affection for a while until she tells me to wash up.
"Come up, Bells. We have to look nice for today." She says as she gets up. Her expression is stone cold, the type of look that always makes me fear for the worst.
"As you wish." I sigh, obeying her. I get up and wash in a large wooden-plank tub, running my fingers through my hair. When I finish, I towel-dry my hair. I sling it over my shoulders so it does not touch the back of my neck, turning to Marianne.
"Come eat." She says quietly, without emotion.
I frown. Truly I am not hungry, but on a day like today I need to please Marianne.
"As you wish." I say, helping myself to bland, stale food that is in questionable condition.
After a while I go outside of the house. I don't want to confront Marianne with the occasion so I occupy myself as much as possible. I go to the small stool in the yard and begin to knit socks. We're running out of socks, I remind myself as I take the dull, faded yarn and begin to work.
Marianne says I'm too young for a job at the factories. I don't care; we need more money as it is, but I obey her and practice my knitting so that I will be better than all the other kids when I turn 16 and am old enough for a job. Then again, at the factories they use machines, not hand-knitting, so my skills will be rendered useless. Oh well, at least we'll have more socks.
After a while, I see a rat stumble across the yard, a moldy piece of some sort of fruit between its paws. I look around, making sure no one is watching, and then kill it, bringing the carcass inside.
Hunting is illegal in District 8. We have very tough Peacemakers who will no doubt execute you on sight if they catch you poaching. But killing a rat is common in our part of town, so no one really thinks twice about it. I skin the animal and rid of its head, paws, and tail, then simmer some water and cleanse it. Better safe than sorry, Marianne always says.
"Luna, what are you doing?" She asks as she sees me washing the small carcass.
"Rat outside. We need meat." I say gruffly, getting to the point.
Marianne sighs, not understanding my need to kill small animals for food. But she does not object or make me throw the cubed meat away. "I swear, you'll turn cannibal if you're chosen." She sighs, but I know she's only joking.
I laugh and smirk at her. "Whatever puts food at the table, or… whatever they'll have this year at the arena."
Marianne keeps quiet for awhile, not even bothering to chuckle at my poor attempt at a joke. I can tell she's not excited about today. She still hasn't even confirmed that today's the day. I have to ask, though. I need to know. I find her, washing clothing, and I tap her shoulder. She's now onto knitting something, and at first I thinks she's ignoring me until she gives a small "Hmph" that tells me she knows I'm alive and there. Not waiting for her to finish and turn around so I can ask, I mutter to her back:
"It's Reaping Day, isn't it."
