Oh, the joys of writing chaotic family lives. Read on. . .
*Sigh* Only 2 Reviews from the previous chapter. . .That's depressing T^T Onwards~~~
"Linden! Mum says we're leaving in five minutes! Linden!"
Linden couldn't hear him. Sitting on a tree branch by the house's upstairs window (Linden's family were one of the few people in District 7 to have a multi-storey house), he was absorbed in his book. He had found it in the back of the library: Thoughts of the Forest.
It was once called poetry; now, Panem decreed it a waste of time.
Linden had discovered poetry a couple of years ago. The way the words were arranged, in such perfect measures of clarity or abstractness, ran up and down the pages in a dance of ink on paper. He particularly liked this volume, lamenting on the beauty of flora and fauna. It was strange how much more appreciation District Seven had of forest and trees when they were the ones to cut them down. A crinkly oak leaf drifted down and landed on the open page. Linden crushed it to dust in his fingers, listening to the sound it made. The leaves themselves were powerless, but the oak tree had stood for decades – his parent's parents hadn't known a time when it was a sapling.
Leaves were just like the districts. The pawns of Panem.
"Lindeeen!" This time the words were more prominent – Linden recognized his younger brother Poplar's voice, one of the mischievous red-haired twins. He sighed.
Climbing back up into the second-storey window, Linden descended back into the chaos which was the Woodloft life. The Woodloft family had seven boys: Maple, Linden, Ash, Rowan, Hemlock, Pine and Poplar. Maple was old enough to forgo the Reapings, and Hemlock and the twins hadn't had their first yet, but Linden, Ash and Rowan were fair game. And getting the whole family out of the door on time. . .
"Linden, dear, put something respectable on at once!" That was Linden's mother. She walked down the hallway, chucking clothes at each of the boys. She thrust a pale blue shirt and brown dress pants at Linden before he could object.
"And tie that hair up, for goodness' sake! Why you can't have a sensible haircut like Maple, I just don't understand…"
Linden fingered his messy brown hair defensively. So what if it came down to his shoulders? His mother had a mane of red hair, which she never tied up, and as for Maple, Linden shuddered at the thought of being like his sensible and responsible brother. He ducked into his cupboard-like room.
Pine was bouncing on his bed.
"Pine, have you seen a hairband anywhere?" asked Linden, ignoring the fact that Pine was on the verge of chucking his bedsheets out of the window.
"Hemlock had them. He said he was going to burn them," said Pine innocently. Linden wrestled Pine off his bed.
"Why would he do that?" asked Linden.
"Because Poplar styled his hair like a girl while he was asleep." answered Pine.
"Thanks, Pine," said Linden, shoving his little brother out of the door and closing it with his foot whilst buttoning up his blue shirt. It smelled weirdly clean and had tears on one of the sleeves. Linden was only the second-born but he still got hand-me-downs. No one got new clothes in the Woodloft house. He put one sock on, but then the cackles of eleven-year-old Hemlock drifted up from the backyard, and Linden had to run back down into the garden and stop his brother burning up all the hairbands in the house.
"Lindeeen," he whined. "Why do you always have to ruin everything?"
"I'm not the pyromaniac in this family," he answered, snatching the matches off his brother.
"Boys, we're leaving in two minutes! Get ready!" The voice of Linden's father resonated throughout the house.
Linden ran through into the kitchen, tying his hair back in a messy ponytail. Maple was slicing up a loaf of grainy bread. He handed a piece to Linden.
"Reaping day, huh?" said his older brother.
"Two more to go." Linden answered grimly.
Poplar trudged into the kitchen, whining.
"Why do we always have to have brown bread? White bread is way more yummier." he said, sticking his bottom lip out.
"Because every time we do, you mash up bugs to put in it and pretend its brown bread." answered Rowan, who was sitting at the table, his back hunched over.
"Oh, yeah," said Poplar. "Can I have some bread, Maple?"
Linden's father entered. "We're leaving now, boys. So hurry up unless you want to walk by yourself."
Linden wanted to go back upstairs and get his book, but everyone else was walking towards the door, and Maple gave him a stern look.
"Come on, Linden," he said.
Linden sighed. "Not a moment of peace and quiet."
Rowan laughed. "I thought you liked it that way!"
Linden smiled and walked out of the door into the grey street.
Camryn's day began with laughter.
Even though her fear of Reaping Day was immense, she swallowed it and occupied her thoughts by playing with Danny. Camryn's younger cousin was only three, and she loved him more than anyone else. His bright blond hair framed his pale face like a halo and his blue green eyes always sparkled when he laughed. Camryn often wished she looked more like him, instead of inheriting her father's dark brown hair and freckly skin. Today, since no one was at work, and the Reaping didn't start until eleven, she had decided to take Danny down to the eastern border of the district, where a clump of birch trees almost served as a park. The trees were small and thin - useless for timber, so they just stood around a small pond where frogs and ducks lived.
Camryn sat next to the pond, staring into the reflections of blue sky and white birch branches when Danny came running up to her.
"Cami, look! I got a froggy!" Danny burst out of the reeds, running awkwardly in that toddler-like way. His plump arm was outstretched, and a small splodge of dark green was visible in his pudgy fist. Camryn peered at the frog. Its black eyes were bulging in a comical fashion from Danny's tight grip, and it looked as if it was about to explode. Camryn laughed.
"He's massive!" Camryn exclaimed. Danny grinned with pride. Camryn stroked the frog's damp, sticky head with one finger. "Do you want to go put him back now?"
Danny waddled back into the reeds. Camryn heard him whisper: "Go home, froggy," as he unclenched his fist, and the frog hopped back to freedom. Danny continued stomping through the reeds, looking for more strange beasts.
Camryn Parrish never had an older sister to look after her. She had grown up not knowing her mother, an only child with a loving father and not enough food on the table. Camryn was only seven at the time but she could remember asking her father why they never had enough to eat.
"The Capitol won't pay me enough money for food, Cami." was always her father's reply. Kenny Parrish would often sit for ages in their small, rickety house. Camryn knew he was planning something big – his eyes were always squinted and beady, and towards the end he whispered in his sleep.
One sunshine-y day, Kenny shook eight-year-old Camryn awake.
"Daddy, where are we going?" she had asked. He had backpacks in his hand, stuffed to bursting point. He slung one over his shoulder and threw the other to Camryn.
"We're leaving, Cami." he said, his voice tense with nervousness and excitement. Camryn could tell from his grinning face that where ever they were going, it would be a good place. An amazing adventure. Camryn giggled and pulled a threadbare jumper on. When she stepped outside, she saw the sun had not risen. A faint pink glow was visible one side of the sky. She clutched her father's hand as he ran towards the district fence. And then they were free, running across the wilderness. Kenny laughed as Camryn danced across the forest floor.
Camryn tried to close her eyes, tried to stop the memories. But they erupted forth like a chain of explosions, and, in her mind, a single, point-blank gunshot echoed across the surface of the pond. Peacekeepers. Such a misnomer. They were the real cause of all rebellious thought, thoughts which turned to actions, actions which were always silenced with gunshots and whips.
A cycle of pain.
"Look! I found a tadpole! Cami look!"
The reaping was silent, except for the rustle of flame-coloured autumn leaves, flying along the empty streets. Hundreds of children stood, staring up into the face of the Capitol escort, silently defying her with stares. The look on Daedala Frisk's scaly face was slightly unsettled, as if someone had just walked over her grave, which gave Linden a strange sense of cruel satisfaction.
He was standing with the rest of the crowd. Linden stood a little taller than most of the other sixteen-year-old boys, his tall and stringy frame making him stand out of the crowd. He didn't like it. At the reapings, it was better to be as inconspicuous as possible.
As per routine, Daedala strode over to the reaping bowls. Her gait was different to the other escorts seen on TV; instead of the expected bouncy high-heeled stride, Daedala walked afraid and hurried, like the teens would pull out weapons at any minute. A hint of a smile played on Lindens lips. She lowered her hand into the reaping bowl, never taking her eyes off the crowd. Her long-lashed eyes flickered around the crowd for a moment, then fixed onto the paper slip in front of her. She blinked nervously.
"Camryn Parrish!"
Heads turned towards the fifteen-year-old girls section. A small circle formed around the condemned child.
Linden could see her: a short, skinny girl with dark hair pulled into a loose ponytail. Her face displayed an expression of pure shock. She squeezed her eyes shut, then managed to assemble her face in an expression of confidence, and walked up to the stage.
Daedala examined her. No friends had come to scream in protest, so she decided this wouldn't provoke more stares from the crowd. She was very wrong, and flinched as she turned back to face the district population. Linden almost chuckled. How great it must be, to live somewhere so safe that defiant stares were the absolute pinnacle of torture.
Sobs echoed across the square. Linden turned to see a small woman holding a bawling toddler in her arms. She stroked his hair and whispered to him, trying to calm him down. But screams of "Cami no leave!" ricocheted against the walls of the Justice building.
Daedala looked mildly annoyed. Linden imagined her train of thought: Oh, stop crying, annoying child. She's only going to be killed in the Games. It's not as if she's going to a formal party wearing a top and trousers!
Camryn was barely coping.
The confidence she was showing was beginning to crack at the edges. Seeing Danny cry for her was making her break. Her eyes were watery. She blinked again to hold back a monsoon of tears. Instead, she watched the escort stride over to the boys' reaping bowl.
This escort scared her. She was dressed in a long orange dress, elegant and flowing, but her skin was criss-crossed with stripes of scales. One stripe ran across one eye, and that eye was inlaid with white gems, scary yet glamorous. The escort once more lowered her hand into the reaping bowl, and pulled out a slip of paper with her green talons. Camryn listened eagerly. Maybe someone strong could get reaped, and she would be able to make it back with his help. The escort smoothed it out, and-
"Linden Woodloft!"
Ripples spread through the crowd, many more this time as they seemed to originate from several points in the boys' section. A tall boy with long, light brown hair walked up to the stage. Camryn saw he didn't have any shoes on, just one holey sock.
The escort was snickering. The mayor, an elderly woman, stepped forward and told them to shake hands. She smiled at them sympathetically, which Camryn returned half-heartedly. She took Linden's hand. He shook it firmly, but didn't look her in the eyes. His thoughts were somewhere else, and his eyes followed a single autumn leaf drifting down a faraway street on a current of swirling wind.
So free. . . But they had metaphorically slapped chains on Camryn and Linden. Camryn wondered if she would ever see this district again. As much as she had wanted to escape, the rustle of trees and dull streets were home.
And a lot safer than where she was headed.
The room in the Justice Building could barely contain the entire Woodloft family. Emotion was leaking out of the windows and under the door. Linden's family had been allocated the lounge of the Justice Building. Cabinets filled with age-old tomes and dusty china ornaments leaned against the walls. Linden thought it smelled weird. Like stale perfume and old people.
His enormous family was piled on one of the couches, Linden squashed in the middle with them. They all just sat there crying for a while. Then Maple stood up.
"Uhm, the guys and I would like you to have this," he said, handing a roughly carved circlet to Linden. It unsettled him to see his older brother, usually so smooth when speaking, tripping over his own sobs.
Linden examined the crown. He knew what it was instantly.
For as long as he could remember, the back garden had been the best place for a troupe of young boys to play. They made noble stallions out of broomsticks and swords out of spindly twigs. His father had laughed at this, but came back from work one day with this crown. "For the rightful King of the garden," he had said in a booming voice. The next day, they had held a coronation for King Maple, using tea towels as cloaks. The other boys swore allegiance to Greenwell, the name of the make-believe kingdom, and were named knights of the realm. Linden found fresh tears in his eyes. This token was perfect. He wasn't sure if he had fully realised how lucky he was to have such a good family before. Linden tried to speak, but his voice caught in his throat.
His father came up to him. His voice was shaking, but he squeezed the tears out of his eyes.
"Linden, you can do this," he began, "train hard with survival skills, get away from the Cornucopia, and find some food. I know you can do this."
Linden's father broke off in sobs. He couldn't lose another family member; first his brother, now his son. Linden could see it in his eyes, the death of his uncle again. The Woodlofts were so rebellious. Peacekeepers always pointed them out as bad examples, rotten eggs. But the Capitol were always the ones to strike first.
Camryn lay on the couch, shaking. Sometime soon she would just wake up, and it would be all over. One person's life couldn't have that many tragedies in it. Couldn't it? Could it?
Her aunt Margaret and Danny came in. They didn't say anything, just sat there, crying. Danny kept mumbling "Cami no leave," but his sobs were quieter and quieter. Her aunt cradled them both in her arms, stroking Danny and Camryn's hair.
When the Peacekeepers came in to take Margaret and Danny away, Danny started up again. He screamed and kicked against his mother, who was desperately trying to calm him, hears running down her own cheeks. The last part before Danny left was him staring into Camryn's eyes, reaching out a hand, and mumbling tiredly: "Cami no leave." Camryn tried to imprint the moment on her memory forever, but it slipped away before she could catch it.
Evelyn Hayes entered. She was a tall and extremely skinny girl with straight blond hair. Camryn didn't really consider her a friend, since she was super-annoying, but today Evelyn's face was grave. She sat on the couch with her hands in her lap, not really knowing what to say. Camryn smiled.
"So, I heard the Capitol is a pretty nice place," she began. Evelyn looked at her strangely.
"Some people would even die to go there," said Camryn. Evelyn snorted. Camryn knew it was a lame joke, but comedy wasn't her number one priority now.
"Do you have a token?" asked Evelyn. Camryn held up a small leather circle. It was simply plaited, and worn at the edges.
"It's pretty," said Evelyn.
"My dad gave it to me for my eighth birthday," she said, and promptly burst into tears.
Evelyn awkwardly tried to put her arms around Camryn. She made soft shushing noises. Camryn continued this way for about ten minutes until the Peacekeepers came again. Evelyn was hesitant to go, but Camryn pushed her aside and smiled bravely.
"Go, I'll be fine."
Evelyn stood up, smiling.
"No you won't."
Camryn laughed.
And then she was alone.
Expect fast updates, I'm trying to get through the pre-training chapters really fast since I have all the tributes (Well, almost)
Please don't forget to review~! *Wink wink, nudge nudge* ;D
