District Five

Memories don't remind, they haunt

Heather Myra, 12

District Five Female Tribute

The town square is bustling with life as we walk through it.

People are rushing in and out of shops, hushing their children, and all around talking and spending time with their family.

Jaime and I walked through. Some people stop and give me a weird look, but I smile back at them. I look at some of the shoes in the shoemaker's shop, wondering if Dad would let me get some new ones. I decide against it as Jaime strikes a conversation with the shoemaker's daughter.

"Hi Electris," Jaime says, smiling at the pretty eighteen year old. I beam at her, and she smiles back.

"Hello Jaime, Heather, how are you guys today?" her voice is soft, like she's talking to little kids.

"Good, Electris. How are you?" I say.

"As good as anyone on their last day of being reaped." She gives us a half smile, cleaning some of the shoes on the display case. I move to help her, but she nods her head no. Jaime pats my back. "Are you girls interested in buying some shoes?"

"Maybe," I say, admiring a pair of pretty pink ones. "I really like those ones."

"Oh!" she says. "These ones cost 10 gold coins."

"Oh okay," I bite my lip. Dad won't be happy with this transition, even though he's usually okay with this. It's getting to that time of year, and with the added weight of it being my first reaping, it's easy to say this won't be a good time to buy new shoes that I don't need at the moment. "Maybe after the reapings."

Electris nods, and Jaime and I head out of the store. We stop by the florists, as the colourful flowers fill the shop with life.

"Hello Camellia!" I say, smiling brightly at her as well. Camellia comes over to us, her light blonde hair wrapped into a tight bun.

"Hello Heather and Jaime," she says warmly, her eyes crinkling in the corners. "Need any help with the flowers today?"

"No," I say. "Just looking for some for her, it's getting to that time of year again."

Camellia embraces me, just as she does every single year since I started coming into her shop. I snuggle back into her embrace, needing a hug for today. "Thank you," I whisper.

"No need," she says.

I look around for the dahlias, and find them. I smell them, remembering the reason my father told me she adored them. I pick them up and walk to the counter. I place the three gold coins on the table.

"Oh, Heather dear, you don't need to pay for those today. They're on the house," she hands back the coins to me, but I refuse.

"No, it's okay. You've just helped me a lot, there's no need for that."

"Maybe you just need a bit of good luck today. Kelly always came in, with the same light in her hazel eyes as yours. Always took the pink dahlias," she says.

Jaime smiles at her. "Thanks Camellia, see you later."

As we walk to the graveyard, I notice Jaime tugs me forward as I try to look around. "Jaime, what are you doing? We don't need to rush!" I exclaim.

She continues to tug me forward, not letting me look around. People bustle back home, getting ready for the reapings. "Your dad wanted you to be home earlier to get ready," she replies. I nod, and rush up with her.

I place the fuchsia dahlias on the ground on top of the grave, tears dripping down my face. "It's another year Mom," I whisper. "I'm twelve now, and I'm eligible for reapings now. I wish I could see you, I know you're beautiful. You'd know how to feel for today."

Jaime squeezes my hand, hugging me, and I cry. First, it was me and my father coming together, but it stopped as Dad became more successful. Jaime came with me instead, making sure I won't break to the fullest every time I visit. It's been eleven years, and I still haven't learned to compose myself.

"Bye Mom."

I look once again at the grave, reading over the words that's haunted me since I was little.

Kelly Myra
Loving wife, mother, friend, and daughter
Died 13 AR
'The only thing stronger than hate is hope.'

We head to my house, and Jaime hugs me again. "You okay?" she asks.

"Yeah," I manage a weak smile. "I'm fine."

She gives me one last look as she walks back to the mayor's mansion, where she lives. Her father is prepping for the reapings.

The house is empty as I walk in, nothing really happening. I walk up to the bedrooms, hearing a sob as I pass by my father's, and lock myself into my room.

I open the scrapbook my father gave me four years ago. To me, it is more valuable than any piece of gold or silver he's ever given me. My mother's laughing face greets me, and a tear slips onto the page.

I flip through, looking at my mother smile, laugh, groan, and pout. One catches my eye as it always does.

My mother is laughing at something, and the photographer caught her pearly white teeth. My father looks at her in the corner, a look of pure happiness overriding his features. I stifle a sob, closing the book and laying it on my bed.

I dig through my closet, looking for the box my father gave a long time ago. "Aha!" I say, grabbing it out and pulling it onto my lap.

The box is full of my mother's old clothes, things I prefer to wear over my new fancy dresses. It makes me feel more secure, like the clothes are a mother's embrace, yet not.

A pretty white and blue dress catches me eye, and I grin triumphantly as I pull it on. I braid my brown hair and walk down.

"Hey sunshine." My dad hugs me tight, and I hug him back. His voice is weak. "It's a big day, isn't it."

"Yeah Daddy," I say. "I'm scared."

"Don't worry sweetheart, nothing going to hurt you. I'll make sure of it."

I nod, and hold his hand as we walk through the town to the square. He kisses me on the forehead, telling me he loves me and good luck, then leaves.

The needle prick is quick and a bit painful, and the bored Peacekeeper lets me go. I stand beside Jaime in the twelve year old section, waiting for Jaime's father to come onto the stage.

Connor welcomes everyone and proceeds to the reading of the Dark Days. He then welcomes Paulie Valentine, whose hair is so green it puts the grass to shame.

"Today's a marvelous day!" He beams, surveying the crowd. "The lucky lady going into the games is…"

His pale, bony hand reaches inside the glass bowl and pulls out a lone, white slip of paper. "Heather Myra!" he reads.

I gasp, and start to cry. "Dad!" I shriek, running over to the adult section behind us. "DAD!"

"Heather!" he says, and he's crying too. I run closer as he says that, but strong arms pull me back. I whack the arms, but it's no use.

"Daddy!" I scream. "Please, no no no no no. Please!"

My dad just cries, staring at me, but not moving. He knows it's a lost cause as well. The Peacekeepers hoist me onto the stage, and I stare dully at the audience. "Why?" I whisper. "What did I ever do to you?"

The crowd says nothing, and Paulie Valentine awkwardly coughs. "Erm, and now for the gentleman joining her."

He pulls the slip out and calls out, "Walt Emerson!"

An old man who looks like he's lived a thousand years walks up, his kind eyes tired. I sob, because it's not fair. It isn't fair at all. The youngest person in the district and one of the oldest are going into the games. It's cruel, and not right, because the district CHOSE us.

Dad comes rushing in, tears streaming down his face. He hugs me tight, rubbing my back. "It'll be alright sunshine," he whispers. I cry into his suit jacket, clutching onto him.

"Why Daddy?" I ask. "Why?"

"I don't know princess, but I'll make sure whoever made this up will pay."

I nod numbly, just hugging him. Eventually, the peacekeepers pull us apart, but my father almost fights them before he reluctantly leaves.

Jaime comes in next. "Hey Heather," she says softly, hugging me. I cry, and she hugs me tighter. "Try to fight, okay?"

"Okay." My voice is hollow, and she hugs me again before dropping a necklace into my hands. "This is yours."

"Thank you," I whisper.

Camellia comes in too, tears streaming down her face, and she tells me to be careful. I try to listen, but I don't know how to. The room is suffocating me, and I don't know how to stop it.

Watt Emerson, 80

District Five Male Tribute

"DAD!"

I wake up with a start, looking around to see that I'm only in my bedroom. It's dark, and the only light is the soft glow of the rising sun. I sigh, rubbing my eyes and stretching. My old body moans in pain as I stretch.

I step out of bed and head to the kitchen. Memories haunt me, remembering her screams, and I groan. Cereal is breakfast, and I chew it. Photos all around remind me of my four girls, and how they left too early from this world.

Heller's beautiful amber eyes haunt me, and the big smile on her face is forever stuck in the photo. My lovely wife died last year, due to old age and the grief for our little girls.

"They're gone," she whispered. "All three of them- just gone."

She sobbed into my arms, clutching the picture. "Spark, Vida, Bina, oh my little darlings."

"Sh," I said. "They're in a better place now."

"But still! It's not fair, they were so young, so full of life! Why is the Capitol so cruel?"

"I don't know," I said, holding her tight. "But we can't live our life in sorrow, the girls don't want us to be like that."

She lost the fight and joined our daughters in the stars, leaving me here.

"Heller?" I called. "Heller darling?"

Nothing answered. The house seemed bigger than it was, empty. I headed up to my bedroom, and gasped in horror.

"NO!" I yelled, clutching her lifeless hand. "Heller! Heller! Heller, come back! Please, please. Don't leave me here!"

She didn't answer. I sobbed into her dead body, clutching her cold, lifeless hand. "Heller, darling, please."

She never answered again.

I run my hand over one of Spark's photos. My youngest is laughing as I chase her, probably only five at the time. I remember that moment vividly, the sound of her laughter ringing in my ears.

"I'm going to get you Spark!" I called. She giggled, sprinting forward, and running further away from me.

Her older sisters, Bina and Vida, stayed with their mom, making dinner. Spark hid behind a tree. I creeped up behind her.

"Boo!" I said. She jumped, latching onto me.

"Daddy!" she exclaimed. "You scared me!"

"It's okay Spark, Daddy won't hurt you," I said.

"I know, Daddy," she replied.

The other only time she called me that loudly was the time she was killed and tortured for information on the rebellion she didn't participate in.

"I don't know anything, I swear," she pleaded, looking at the peacekeeper.

He sneered, punching her again. "Lies, girl. Tell me all you know and you'll live."

"I don't know anything!" she cried. There was a loud smack, and sobbing was heard.

"Spark!" I called, running to the source. Peacekeepers hold me back, and I plead for them to let me get to my daughter.

They sneered, but didn't do anything. I heard Spark's cries, her begging to be free, but the thing that haunted me comes in.

"DAD! Dad, help! DAD! DAD! DADDY!"

Boom.

And the world goes silent. Nothing was heard after that, after the gunshot. I sob, and the peacekeepers drop me. "Tell no one."

Bina and Vida were grief-stricken, but Heller was broken after that.

"She's gone," Bina whispered, and Vida hugged her mother. Heller looked out into space, beyond the house.

"It isn't fair," Vida cried. "Spark had nothing to do with the rebellion! She isn't involved at all! They're just trying to point fingers."

That got them captured later, and then killed.

"Ah!" I looked over to the neighbour's house, and to my horror, there were many white Peacekeeper uniforms. I bolted out, kissing Heller and telling her to stay there.

On the ground, in the middle of the circle of Peacekeepers, are my two other girls, with blood leaking out of their gunshot wounds, and a look of anger on their open eyes. Bread was loosely in their possession, and I sobbed, running to the middle and clutching their bodies.

"No, not another one," I sobbed.

Heller came out, running towards me and crying with me, over the dead bodies of our remaining beautiful girls.

I get out, wash the dish and put it back, and walk over to my room. I wear a simple white t-shirt and khakis, and get out.

"Hello Mr. Emerson!" one of the neighbourhood kids, five year old Zippina, says, beaming at me.

"Hello Zippina," I smile warmly at her. "How are you today? Is Albert here too?"

"I'm good," she says.

We walk to the square, and all the other children join us. They stand with me and their parents as we watch the reapings.

A twelve year old girl named Heather Myra, daughter of the corrupt factory owner, is reaped, and tears flow to my eyes as a little girl is taken from her family, cruel father or not.

"Why?" she asks the district, and my heart breaks. "What did I ever do to you?"

"Watt Emerson!"

I look around, surprised but happy that a child isn't reaped and to be with my girls again, as I walk to the stage. The entire crowd burst with protests, some saying "No one voted for him!" or "Why him?". The Peacekeepers lift their guns, and the crowd silences.

Poor little Heather is shaking, tears welled up in her face. When we shake hands, I tell her it will be alright.

The neighbour kids, all ten of them, Albert, Isaac, Tricity, Deena, Ally, Wyatt, Freddie, Nina, and little Zippina all visit me, embracing me with hugs.

"It's rigged!" Tricity, the oldest at thirteen, exclaims. "I know for a fact that no one voted for you, much less the entire district!"

"She's right!" Isaac says. "No one would ever want you in the games, people only wanted Dave Myra to go to them!"

"It's okay," I say. "It's better for me to go, I'm an old man guys."

"But still!" Wyatt protests. "It's not fair!"

"I'll be happy no matter what guys. You guys are brilliant kids with a bright future, you'll figure it out."

Deena and Ally give me a bracelet. "So you remember us," Freddie says.

As the children leave, I smile at them, knowing I'll be dead in a few weeks.

Another one! So Heather Myra is the extraordinary Team Shadow's and Watt Emerson is the marvelous MiniMustache. I'm gone for a week, so District 6's update will be slower. Bye! :)