The soft rays of the sun coming from the dusty old window force my eyes to open wide. I had another dream of fire, burning wood, smoke until all I could see was the light. It felt like a memory though. If great tragedy and danger had a smell, that would've been it. My consolation price for this morning is that I get to wake up and find my mother holding my hand against her chest, sleeping peacefully despite yesterday's hard work. She does this all the time. Her steady heartbeat usually lulls me back to sleep, but the daylight is stubborn so I slip away as gracefully as I can, leaving the bed warm, kissing mother on the cheek.
My sister, Kahlen, is already awake at this time. She starts her day in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes from last night. She's a spitting image of me-except for her short dark brown hair, that is. Her eyes are blue and mine are different shades of hazel and green. She also doesn't have indendations on her cheeks. Nevertheless, I think she's beautiful.
Our black and brown-eyed puppy, Beef, sits impatiently beside her feet-wagging its tail annoyingly. He is little and adorable, but his breath smells like fish and unfortunately, he likes to lick my face. My sister named him that because she found him near the meat market and the only way to get him to come with her was to bribe him with meat, which my sister thought was a slice of beef. And so after 'chanting' beef a couple of times, he got accustomed to it, looking back at anyone who mentions the word beef. I think it's stupid and funny. My mother hates him, but kept him anyway. I guess she thought Beef was better than having us to go outside and wander around.
We live in a place called Graphene at District 13, where most men and women lived off of graphite mines and explosive weapons. The danger isn't new to us. People die every week for various reasons-poison, illness, hunger and the occasional fire caused by chemicals. Calloused hands, deafened ears and bloodshot eyes are normal here. The Capitol doesn't seem to provide enough protection though they crave for our products like savages.
Our house is placed on the eastern side of Graphene where the sun hits us badly. The summer heat burns us as early as nine o'clock in the morning and the humidity causes us to sweat beneath our thin and faded clothes. Good thing, there's a giant hole in our small backyard. Covered with a wooden door and a patch of dying grass, I go down under, leading me to the other side of the district.
I discovered the hole two years ago when I was starving, but couldn't go over the fence to find something to eat. I was planning on digging some roots in the backyard when my foot got stuck and I eventually fell down. I think the peacekeepers dropped a bomb here in the past.
I call it my secret garden. I can find everything I need from herbs to fruits. If you know how to pick the right ones, you'll do well. I rise up from the ground carefully, seeing to it that nobody is around. Dirt covers my dress and I hurry to shake it off of my body since I don't want mother to find out what I'm doing.
Mangoes. I could spend all day eating them. It's only eight and I'm parched but I wander further, staring at the trees, listening to the birds sing. It's peaceful out here and the breeze embraces my skin with its coolness. Underneath the shadows of green, I find something yellow, which is something I aim for so I rub my hands together and take a deep breath. I start climbing.
Nobody taught me how to climb. My instinct works, knowing if I should lift my left foot or my right, which branch to hold on to. When hunger strikes you, anything is an option. My first week wasn't gracious too. I came home with several ant bites, bleeding fingers and a scraped knee. Hunger is hunger. You'd have to put up with it.
Two hours passed and I have six mangoes in my hands. The seventh is already in my stomach. I can get in trouble for this, go to jail, be punished. But I seem to care less. My mother is the finest healer in the district. She earned a lot of respect from the people. Besides, if I don't go out, who would pick out those herbs she needs for her patients? Maybe I'm so calm about violating the rules.
Climbing down is harder for me since I have a load to carry. There are times where I slip, but not today. And just as I hit the ground, the smell of oregano fills in my nose and I remember the rest of the things I need to get.
Panem is something that I can never understand. And the Capitol. Though I haven't seen the city itself, I feel as though all of the thirteen districts are slaves, forced to work to satisfy them. I don't ask for much in this life, but I think it's a little depressing to see houses made of thin ply wood, rusty roofs and other metal scraps. Not to mention the scarcity of food and healthcare. We are poor and I don't know why. Panem survived, so why does it seem that we're still struggling?
I come home quickly, heading straight to the bathroom. My mother taught me not to be grimy in front of the table. She is obsessed with cleanliness, Kahlen isn't. I'm always in the middle of things.
My sister catches me brushing my damp hair in front of the broken mirror.
"Hey, Maur," She calls out, scratching her head. My name is Maura, but when Kahlen started to talk, she could barely pronounce it until 'Maur' ended up being my nickname, which is no different from Maura if you say it faster. She made me try saying it ten times and and it's true.
"Hey yourself." I smile. Kahlen walks around me and Beef follows her and starts licking my feet. I pick him up, shaking him slightly. "Not today big boy, I already bathed. Kahlen on the other hand, needs to." Being my sister, of course she has to pinch my arm. I pretend to wince in pain and she just laughs.
"So listen," says Kay. "Do you mind covering up for me later? I just talked to Korsak, he's going to teach me how to kick some a-" My mom walks in before she could finish her sentence. "Do you want to do the dishes? Again?" She says, but her face is not a serious as her words.
Sometimes, I just want to stare at mother and count the lines on her face. I love her very much. I look up to her. She's raising us all by herself and I'm trying not to be a burden. Our family doesn't like to talk about things from the past. And when I say past, I mean, my father. I remember pestering her about it when I was five. She didn't say much, but her face turned sour like it was the vilest thing I ever said. Since then, I learned not to ask about him, but I still often wonder why. Sometimes, I would write letters to my father, in my head of course, saying things like, "Father, why did you leave her? How could you?"
I can go on, but the pain remains the same. It hurts me to see how wonderful my mother is and yet that man chose to disappear. I know he's not dead, I know deep in my heart, he is not. Otherwise, my mother would've told me.
Kahlen interrupts my thoughts with her reasoning. She says she needs to learn self-defense to protect herself and this family. She's the 'man of the house' after all. I admire her bravery and perseverance, but as her sister, I don't think I will approve of her being on the other side of Graphene all day, learning about violence. I can't stand it. I can't stand her getting hurt-which is why I talked to Korsak yesterday and told him to stay away from my sister. I still think he's a good man. He's just rarely sober and the people take him for a fool because of it.
There are a lot of good men in Graphene. It's just the unfortunate events that led them to be what they are now-such sad and hopeless creatures. There's Barry, whose skin is dark and handsome. We go to school together and we're friends because our mothers are. He has such beautiful hazel eyes. Too bad, he can't use them to see. And the funny thing about him is that, he doesn't know what I look like and yet he still calls me pretty. He is very kindly. I wouldn't tell this to anyone, but if I could, I would like to kiss him someday.
Mayor Cavanaugh is next in line. He is a lonely man, living with five kittens. You don't see him loitering around, but when you do, he'd be talking to Barry's father. I heard, they used to be soldiers, which makes sense because they have all the knowledge about what makes this district float. He is a nice man. He rarely smiles, but he seems sincere. Sometimes, he would give my mother a sack of flour or anything that he could offer. He calls her Hope and She calls him Sean. It sounds so strange to me.
The last would be President Doyle. He's not exactly from District 13 but it feels as though he is because he's always here. That's why I know the Capitol is different from here because he dresses differently and his peacekeepers look more dangerous and unfriendly. I know he's good because I overheard him talking to my mother once. He told her that he would like to help us. Clearly he was reaching out. I don't know what happened to that help though. My family is still starving and my sister still has to wear my old clothes. Did he mean it or was it something political?
There are more people whose names I don't quite know, but I do recognize their faces and I know the things that they do. It's just that, right now, my main concern is to stop Kahlen from crying and to help mother cook something edible. She may be a great healer, but she doesn't belong in the kitchen. I think I do.