Chapter Thirty Two- A Special Message
(Fearne)
I stare out of the small window of the room that we've been sleeping in, and sigh contentedly. All I can see are walls and walls of trees, just like at home. Though I know it's not. If we were at home, Elijah would be out, working, and I'd be at home, looking after Hazel.
The cannons are another reminder of the fact. And the cannon that most haunts my mind was the one yesterday, which was for the mother from District Six. I can't imagine what her husband feels like now; he lost two lives from one, and the two that meant the most to him.
"This is strange," I hear Elijah mutter from the living room.
I turn away from the window, still leaning against the wall under it, and smile at the confused voice of my brother. "What's strange?" I ask.
"This," he answers unhelpfully.
"Is 'this' one of the girls from training that you were checking out?" I tease, knowing that there's only really one girl for him, and she is luckily not here with him.
"Hey!" he complains, laughing. "That's not fair."
"You're not denying it," I reason, laughing as well.
"Fine," he grumbles. "No, 'this' isn't a girl."
"Is it a person?" I guess, having fun doing this instead of going out to see it.
"No," he replies.
"A thing?" I question.
"It's kind of an alteration of a thing," he extends.
I raise an eyebrow. "An alteration of a thing?" I repeat. I hear no answer so I add, "I'm going to assume you nodded." Again, I hear no answer so I wait, wondering if he's waiting for me to say something until I hear a humane yelp and stand up straighter, calling, "Elijah?"
As I wait for his response to assure me of his status, I notice that this is the quietest that I've ever heard our house be. Usually, the old beams that support everything are creaking, and you can always hear something threatening to break.
You can normally hear Elijah or Hazel talking as well, because I know they don't like the sound of something that can't be fixed. Also, outside, you can't generally hear birds singing as their trees are constantly being cut down. But here, you can hear every note that a bird sings and the only tree related noise is them swaying in the breeze.
I'm too unnerved by this so I creep out of the bedroom and into the living room, gasping as I realise what Elijah was talking about and why the house is suddenly so quiet; everything has changed so it's perfect. I stare around before quickly slipping outside to see it in more detail, unsure of how to take what has transformed from my house in District Seven to a fairy tale cottage in the middle of the Capitol's Arena.
I look at it, open mouthed, still wondering how this has happened. It kind of looks like our house but then it kind of doesn't. The basic elements of the house are kept the same, but now they have been slight adapted to be more fairy tale like.
To begin with, the roof, which originally had tiles falling off in some places, has now been fixed by different types of tiles; although this looks messy, it gives it character. Also, the roof at home was swaybacked and undulating, due to how it had gradually began drooping over the years, and this roof still is; I am unsure if it's because it also looks unusual or just because that's what they used to look like in fairy tales. The chimney is oversized now too.
The walls of the house were as badly built as the roof too, the beams sticking out to everyone's view but these have been kept, perhaps to make it look more decorative; these now fit in with the rest of the house because they're pretty and blended in, not prominent as they used to be. The small windows that used to be hidden under shadows are now framed by the timber, making them stand out; inside the windows are now lace curtains, that appeared in the second that I turned.
The front door, and only means of entering the house, was the only thing that was cleverly made out of wood; most of this has been kept the same, apart from the top has been rounded, I assume like all the other door openings inside the house.
I glance quickly behind me to notice what had been an overgrown garden in District Seven, because only Hazel and I cared for it, is now a garden overflowing with beautiful flowers, all perfectly growing around the gate and over the wall and door.
Shaking my head at the madness that has occurred to the exterior of my house, I walk back inside, interested in, but also dreading what I'll see.
The first thing that strikes me is how clean everything is. Gone is the dust that coated everything because no one could find time to clean it. Next, I see that the sofa which used to Elijah's bed is now patched up with different, colourful materials, the chairs are no longer threatening to snap beneath the wait of whoever sits on them, and the walls have all been fixed, the beams once again showing.
My eyes quickly scan the rest of the house, noting how similar things have happened to most things. The only other striking differences are the new fireplace and the hi-tech looking television. But the pictures frames are still the same, still empty.
Then, slowly, it dawns on me that I haven't heard Elijah since that yelp of pain. I haven't heard a cannon either though, so he should be okay, shouldn't he? My face begins to drop as I look around for any signs of a struggle, hoping not to see any. Luckily, I don't, so I begin looking for my brother.
When I don't find him for a few minutes, I start to panic until I hear a soft tread behind me. I spin around and throw myself forward when I see him, tightly wrapping my arms around him as I nestle my face into his shirt. He takes a few seconds to react, after which he wipes his hands on his trousers before he hugs me too.
"Where did you go?" I ask, hearing my voice as a scared whisper.
"I'm sorry," he mutters, not really answering the question.
"I thought you'd died," I complain.
"Not me," he promises.
"Who then?" I quickly reply.
"Not a tribute, a mutt," he explains. "It was threatening you so I killed it. I noticed after I saw in here. It kind of looked like a wolf, but it acted like a human too."
I sigh and shake my head as he begins slowly rubbing my back. "It's still not right though."
I see him nod out of the corner of my eyes as he says, "But if they're threatening you, I'll do anything to stop them."
"I don't want anyone else to die," I admit. "I didn't want anyone to die in the first place."
"People die every day," he reasons softly, leading me over to sit on the newly fixed sofa, his arms still hugging me tightly. "You can't cry over the ones that happen so that you stay alive."
"I do have to cry about some of them through!" I argue, hearing my voice suddenly rising in volume. "All those people who died in the Bloodbath had families at home. The boy from Four who died later that day didn't deserve to die. His District partner deserved to live. And the girl from Six? She was eight months pregnant. She was going to give birth soon. And she died. How am I not meant to cry about that?"
He doesn't say anything in response as he gently rubs my back, running two fingers through my hair. He knows I need a few minutes to calm down and think through what we've said, and this is why he stays in silence, attempting to keep it like home. I just shut my eyes, forcing the tears back, not allowing them to fall in front of the cameras. He's right; I can't cry.
"Lee," I mumble, sitting up and looking at his face. He looks tired and worried because I know he's been thinking about Hazel and others at home as much as he's been thinking about me. "You have to cry about two people though. Don't say you don't, because I know you do. Every night, in District Seven, you would leave the house for an hour whilst me and Hazel were meant to be asleep. We usually were but I was awake one night when you left; it was the night before the Reaping and I was still awake because I was scared.
"When I heard the footsteps of someone leaving the house, I knew it could only be you going as Hazel's wheelchair makes a rather distinct squeak when it moves. Once I had heard you leave the house, I sneaked out of my room and followed you away. You obviously didn't notice me as I followed you into the woods, deeper than I had ever been. I had no idea where you were going but I also had no plan to turn back around. You finally stopped at some kind of clearing, or at least where the trees thinned a little. In the middle was a kind of gravestone, I presume for mum and dad. You put two flowers down and then knelt down, as if you wanted to talk to them.
"I left back to the house then because I felt I was invading on your privacy otherwise, that time you could still spend with them. I must have fallen asleep by the time you got back because I didn't hear you return."
He sighs and just continues rubbing my back. I lean my head back onto his chest and he then lies the side of his face onto the top of my head, and I feel the tears that I didn't see him cry.
This sets me off as well and we stay in the same position until a booming voice either calls across the Arena, or just where we stay, "Hello there, children."
Elijah stops running his hand up and down my arm, tightly holding the part where he stopped moving. I look back up at him, seeing so many mixed emotions on his features that I am unable to read him, something which is incredibly strange for our tightly-knit family.
"What's up?" I whisper; the only thing I can tell is that he doesn't like whatever's happening.
He shakes his head. "Nothing can be happening, little dancer."
I pull a face and follow his gaze over to the television screen, which appears to show the forest nearest to our home in District Seven. The camera is being held steadily and walking forward surely, in a direction I've only been once but would recognise anywhere.
"You're wondering how I know, aren't you?" the voice asks, voicing my thoughts.
I shiver and Elijah wraps his arms around me tighter, pulling me even closer to him. But it's not the cold that I'm shivering from, it's the fact that I'm sure I could place that voice if I really tried because there's some niggling thought at the back of my mind that is telling me that I know who it is. But I'm trying to tell myself that I don't.
"Little dancer, there's a reason that your brother knows where to go to remember us."
And that's when the relations hits me: who I think he is. I think he sounds just like an older version of Elijah, the way he said "little dancer" just proved my point to me. The voice just has a certain tone to it, a slight drag on some letters and a particular pronunciation of others. And the way he said "little dancer," well, Elijah said it with such a large amount of love and caring that I never thought anyone else could ever match it. This voice just proves that someone can, and even more.
"Fearne, you know it's tradition in District Seven that weddings have no structure; it's usually 'find somewhere important and make the rest up'," begins the voice, voicing something I know very well and love. "Well, the particular clearing where Elijah went every night and where I'm headed to now, it was shown to him by his mother and me. Catherine and I first met there by accident and fell in love, but I won't go into any further detail other than that's where we got married.
"We took Elijah there when your mother found out that she was pregnant for a second time. She hadn't told either of us before then so this was special to us both. After that, we took Elijah to the clearing numerous times, just the three of us, until Hazel was born and only I could take him, and that was rarely. The last time I took him was on his fourth birthday.
"I'm sorry I could never take you there, Fearne, but I've been running for over eleven years now. I haven't been running because I did much wrong, I will admit I did a little but that was for the good, but I've been running because they thought I did wrong. I didn't want to kill or be stopped before I got the chance to see you all. So I've been working with other spies who have been on the run for a long time too, which is the reason why I can send this message to you from home. From our home.
"Children, believe me, I tried to get home for Elijah's first Reaping, then Hazel's, but the first time I could get away was the day of Fearne's. When it was Elijah's, the men I met did not completely trust me so they couldn't let me go. When it was Hazel's, we were in the middle of a mission. But I knew that Catherine disappeared a few years ago and I wanted to come back to be there for you. I was obviously too late. Two of you are in the Arena, too far away from my help unless I send you the money I don't have, and, well, we've always been poor and had very little help. How many friends did we have? I don't know but they tried their best at the beginning when they could afford to. But it's been over a month now and I think they've given up hope.
"I got to our house, knowing that you two had left the District. I was expecting to see a few people with Hazel but no one was. I hate to say this to you but she's ill, worse than I know you've had to deal with. I don't think it helped that I appeared after being gone for so long; I think shock partially got her. But she hasn't got up since you entered the Arena. She has been eating and I've been trying to help her but she just hasn't had the motivation. And it's breaking my heart to think of what I could lose.
"I want and need you two back, so we can have most of our family back together. I'm trying to persuade the men I worked with to stage a rescue mission for you, but I haven't heard anything back yet. Though I promise that, if they don't, I, your daddy, will save you."
The screen turns black as he reaches the gravestone, and the real tears from my eyes begin to fall. Everything now makes sense, and maybe some things will be better, possibly.
I look up at my brother, finding his eyes still fixed onto the screen. "Elijah, why do you look not so pleased?"
He shakes his head, not taking his eyes away. "We can't trust it," he quickly decides.
"But, you know that it was true," I argue.
The expression on his face momentarily changes. "But it's probably a Capitol torture weapon, to make us weak. They've probably captured him and are making him say those things. I bet Hazel's actually fine-"
"How do you know?" I shout. "What if she's dying at home and you've just destroyed her only hope by saying you don't believe in him?"
He sighs. "I do want him to be there but I don't want to end up depending on something we can't assure. We can't both come out of the Arena. We all know that. If dad is at home, I want you to go to him so he can see what a beautiful young lady you've turned into. I want him to have as much of a chance at loving you as I've had and more." He kisses my head as he whispers, "You're going to get out of here alive, even if it kills me."
Author's Note: Right, I've sorted it out now...
I am now going to apologise for not updating in two weeks. I planned to get a couple of chapters up during the holidays but then I remembered my exams and I had a few... But it's a long chapter to make up for it.
And then I'm apologising for killing two characters. I will admit I didn't feel too bad about Skye (your reactions about Stella were rather amusing and I don't think Ranger's playing!) but I was nearly in floods of tears when writing about Belle.
Also, a question: is there any questions that you have about the story that you need clearing up? I plan to sort out things about Ranger (his brother and Gemma) but is there anything else you can think of?
Finally, I have made a new blog on Tumblr for mine and RadMalfoyCookie's stories. When you're on Tumblr, look for 'thats the sugar cube effect', but with hyphens instead of spaces. I hope it works now.