I'm so sorry! Ahhh! Somehow 3 days turned into…a lot… I'll try to not let it happen again! I kind of stink don't I…? TRICK QUESTION. The correct answer would be no Megyn, you are as fresh as a daisy. (see what I did there) But if it makes up for it at all, I decided that I needed to finish writing this today (well…it still counts because its night!) but I got a huge migraine at about 6 this evening and I was like… NO Ima finish my chapter no matter how long it takes! I'm fully aware that this is not my best chapter! I apologize deeply, I really did try incredibly hard. I love you guys and I especially love reviews! So I beg of you, please leave a review? Dear FF Reader…all I want for Christmas is ten reviews… Till next time, xoxo Megyn.
Tobias Wood
There's this movie that I used to watch when I was little. I can't recall the name, but it was about a little girl who helped an alien who had accidentally come to earth. There was this one part that always stuck out in my head. The little girl says something that for some reason pops into my head as I enter the justice building. "Ohana means family, family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten."
But I've been torn from mine.
Earlier That Day
"THUD!" My eyelids fly open at the loud noise as it reverberates around my bare room. I groan and sigh inwardly as I hear my sister Daisy's normally soft footsteps thundering down the hallway outside my room. Now wide awake, I arch my back and reach my arms towards the head board of my bed before swinging my long legs over the side of my stiff bed.
It's warm outside, the sticky, muggy kind of warm that smothers you in an envelope of moisture and heat. The uncomfortable whether somehow penetrates the tightly sealed walls of my bedroom and clings to my skin closely as I pad across the carpeted floors of my bedroom. I turn my gaze from the frayed carpet and direct it towards the foggy window instead. Using the side of my forearm I swipe a patch of dirt and condensation away so I can see the scene surrounding my window. I peer out to the golden fields that surround mine and virtually every other house in district nine. I watch with an unbreaking stare as the distant workers begin to slice wheat stalks, sending them tumbling to the ground. Normally that'd be me out there, cutting wheat, stacking wheat, and repeat. But today's my day off. I'm glad to be home the reaping is always stressful for my mom and my sister, I'm sure my dad couldn't care less.
I was ten when he left us. Not old enough to have experienced all of the things growing up with a dad would mean. The hardest part for me was the exact day he left. I was looking for my mom when I walked in on him packing his things. "I'll be back." He said. "It's only for a few days." He said. "I'll be home for Friday night tag with you and Daisy." He promised. Lies, all of it. The unexpected deception caused me to question anything and everything he had ever told me. I watched him leave that day without saying goodbye, already busy thinking about what would be for dinner. I never saw him again. Friday after Friday passed without his presence until I admitted to myself that he wasn't coming back. Now I'm just left with the scar of desire from wanting the father I was denied.
I think a lot about why he left. Maybe it was my mom, maybe it was the house, maybe it was his job, maybe it was me. No matter the circumstances, there is no excuse for leaving us behind. My dad was a coward, and I am determined to be nothing like him.
The warm hallway floor creaks beneath my feet as I walk down to my kitchen, still clad in the t-shirt and shorts I wear as pajamas. The soft glow of the kitchen lights illuminate the hallway the closer I get. Just before I make it to the mouth of the corridor, my sister leaps into my arms. I raise a steady arm to her shoulders and give them a quick squeeze.
"Hey Daisy." I say softly. She trembles anxiously in my arms as I stroke her back gently. "Don't be nervous. Everything is ok." Her breaths come out with difficulty as her arms lock together, preventing me from letting go. Through my little sister's blonde hair I can see my mom leaning in the doorway, watching us. She has a weary look about her as she looks at my sister and I. I help Daisy slide down to the floor and tentatively approach my mom. As I get closer, I can see the tears forming in her eyes and threatening to spill over. I pull Daisy with me as I cross the room to her and embrace her in a hug which Daisy joins. Both of their grasps tighten around me by the second until I can't breathe. Lucky for my lungs, the steady vibration of the worn floorboards signals the work train returning to the city. The floor rattles as the train passes by on the tracks next to our house. Both my mother and sister loosen their grasps and turn and look out the window to the tracks below. The pain and fear reflecting in their eyes literally tears and shreds my heart. Before they can stop me, I follow my footsteps back to my bedroom so I can change and avoid bursting into tears.
After I press the door closed behind me I sink to the ground against it and hold my head in my hands. It's hard, so hard. Without my dad here I had to grow up and leave my tag playing days behind me and trade them for mortgages and bills. I tug at my hair angrily at just the thought of my dad. He left me, but he won't leave my memories.
Before I can curl up into a ball and cry, I force myself up and head to my tiny closet. I drag the heavy door open with a sharp tug revealing my sparse wardrobe. I quickly select a random white t-shirt and a pair of deep brown pants. I don't bother to brush my hair, I have the kind that once you brush it, it gets poofy. I purposefully avoid the mirror in my room and return back to the kitchen to see that my mother and sister are no longer there. I poke my head around the corner to the bedroom where my mom and sister sleep together and see that they are not there either. I scratch my head in confusion and shrug, deciding that maybe it's for the best.
I hastily scribble a note to my mom explaining that I'm heading to the reaping in case she comes looking for me. I tuck the messy note under an old picture of me and my sister on my way out the door. The flimsy rotting wood bends under my touch as I pull the door closed behind me. The wind brushes gently across my face as my feet leave the straw welcome mat placed outside our door. As soon as I step out from underneath the overhead terrace covering our porch, the intensity of the sun strikes me.
Beads of sweat begin to form at my hairline as I race down the winding cobblestone streets of district nine towards my best friend Dennis's house. Clouded shop windows fly by as I get closer and closer to Dennis's house. After several minutes of quickly paced walking, the grand home finally comes into view. It gets me pretty much every time. The clean stucco walls of Dennis's house contrast to the rotting wood paneling on mine so sharply it's almost a shock.
I shake my head as if to knock the idea from my mind and trot up the slick concrete walkway to the impressive home. Before I can raise a hand to knock, the pristine door flies open revealing a grinning Dennis. I let out a laugh as Dennis's smile turns to an ear to ear grin.
"Hey what's up?" I ask with a trace of laughter still in my voice. Dennis opens the door wider and beckons me inside.
"Not much. You? How's your mom and sister?" he asks with genuine concern.
"Good." I say not really wanting to go into further details. Dennis accepts my response without further questions and leads me towards the house's two story kitchen.
Sunlight pours in through the glass skylights on the ceiling of the huge kitchen and again finds its way to my face. Before I can start sweating again, I step out from underneath the light and walk towards Dennis's mom who is currently flipping pancakes on a skillet.
"Hey Mrs. Salis." I say with a small wave towards her. The 40 year old puts her hands on her hips and gives me a disapproving look.
"How many times do I have to tell you Toby? I prefer to be called Rebecca."
"Yes Mr- I mean Rebecca." I say with a smile. She returns the smile and refocuses her gaze the cooking breakfast. I feel a tug at my elbow and see Dennis tugging me towards the mahogany dining table. I let him pull me to a silk covered chair and sit down as he bounces around anxiously asking when breakfast will be ready.
"Dennis I swear to god if you ask me one more time when dinner is I'll smack you so hard you will have a spatula imprint smack in the middle of your huge forehead!" I stifle a laugh as Dennis returns to the table with his tail between his legs. He roughly yanks one of the chairs out from underneath the table and plops down with his hand supporting his head.
"I'm starving man, I sure hope I don't die." He says loudly with sarcasm. I truly expect his mother to emerge from the kitchen wielding the plastic spatcula but instead she comes towards us bearing steaming hot pancakes and plates. When she sets a plate down in front of me I try to politely decline saying that I've already eaten, but she knows better.
Dennis and I wholeheartedly dig into the hot meal. I try hard not to let anyone know how bad things get at home but when someone sets a stack of pancakes in front of you, you don't refuse. With Dennis and I both chipping in, we finish in under 5 minutes. I guess he really was hungry. We're in the middle of a heated debate over the best grain seed for different terrains when the reaping bell sounds loudly. We turn to face each other and slowly raise from the table.
The reaping is one of the few times a year that I see Dennis calm. He's normally hyper and easily excitable but the knowledge that not even money can save you is pretty humbling. My heart beat quickens as the two of use slink out the door leaving Mrs. Salis behind with the dishes, something I would never do on a regular day. Even with the bell just having rung a crowd is already forming at the check in desks just down the street from Dennis's house.
I give him a light shove and begin to walk quickly towards the line forming at the metal peacekeeper desks. The two of us manage to slip in behind a gaggle of talkative 18 year old girls. I try to avoid listening to their conversation but ultimately give up when their conversation turns to guys. I overhear them talking about all the guys at school and what they think of them. I finally start to get uninterested when all of the sudden their conversation drops off. I feel a quick tap on the shoulder and spin around expecting to see an angry peacekeeper but its nothing of the sort.
A petite blonde girl stands behind me with a shy grin on her face.
"Hi, I'm Blair." She says, extending a small hand towards me. I meet her hand and give it a slight shake.
"Hi I'm To-"
"Tobias. I know." She says with a nervous giggle. "I just wanted to say that I liked your hair cut and was wondering if you maybe wanted to go for dinner sometime?" She says earnestly with a sparkle in her eye.
"Sweet Mother of God…" I hear Dennis mumble sarcastically behind me. My face feels hot as I open my mouth to reply, but before I can, her hand slips from my mind and she turns and rejoins her friends. I'm confused at first but then I feel something in the palm of my hand that she shook. I lift it to me and see the neat handwriting and nine equal neat numbers. I snort loudly as I realize it's a phone number.
I'm flattered, what a nice girl. I don't get a chance dwell any longer on the girl because I've reached the front of the line at long last. I extend a slightly shaking hand and crumple my nose as I feel the prick. Before I can even say ouch the peacekeeper has pressed my hand to the paper and is already calling for the next kid.
I press my bleeding finger to my tongue and watch as Dennis has his finger pricked. He doesn't even flinch. I hold back an eyeroll as he saunters confidently towards me with a calm aura about him. I spin on my heel and weave through the crowds of people towards the seventeen's section with Dennis following close behind me. We find an empty spot smack in the middle of all the over seventeen year old boys.
"So… Blair hitting on y-"
"Shut up!" I hiss playfully giving him a light shove as I feel myself begin to blush again. Dennis seems to derive some sort of never ending euphoria from teasing me about the attention girls give me. It's pretty much a regular thing; I've never really grown accustomed to it. It still catches me off guard.
The buzzing crowd suddenly grows painfully quite as our crazy escort Merlia trots onto the stage. Her bright orange dress crinkles noisily as she approaches the perfectly positioned microphone. Her heavy breaths ring across the town square before she can even get a word out.
"Yes, hello!" her bright voice ringing across the silent square. She begins her speech about how great the hunger games are and begins the video but I can't pay attention. I realize that I still have no idea where my mom and sister are. I crane my neck and search for their familiar faces against the sea of unfamiliar people. I finally notice my mom standing on the left side of the family area, holding Daisy in her arms. My sister's eyes are wide and nervous as she watches Merlia's every move.
I finally turn my head around just in time to catch the girl being reaped. I miss the name, it sounds strange and unfamiliar and unlike any name I've ever heard before. I stop myself from gasping as a tiny girl emerges from the 14's section. Her medium length light brown hair blows in the slight breeze that ripples through the district as she climbs the stage. Once I get a good glimpse at her face, my heart sinks further. She's tiny, does she even have a chance? Her lips move slightly as Merlia cheerfully towards the boy's bowl. She appears to be saying something herself. Her face has contorted into a strange mix produced by being nervous, but trying to hide it. I'm so busy watching her I almost miss my own name being called.
"Tobias Wood?" Merlia calls me for the second time to join her on the stage.
Panic. Terror. Complete and utter desperation floods my mind as my vision waivers before my very eyes. Everyone's watching. I tell myself. Be brave, for mom and Daisy. I slip through the gaps in the tightly packed crowd and emerge a few feet away from the stage. I focus on not letting my fingers shake as I climb up the stairs. I can almost hear Daisy's distraught whimpers as I reach the top of the stage, trying so desperately to act bravely.
Ohana means family. Please don't forget me.