Blu Saint-Germain
14 months ago
I eagerly listen to Dad, as he lowers his voice slightly. I'm not sure why, as we're in the comfort of our own basement, where it's extremely unlikely for anyone to overhear us. "I know I shouldn't have to tell you this. You're a smart kid, but don't tell anyone about what I'm about to say." He waits for me to nod along and shake his pinky. "Word is getting out that there's a lot of rebellion going on in the Districts."
"Really? What's prompted it?" I ask, needing to know more. You should always scout for as much information as possible before making judgement, or a risky choice.
Dad shrugs, not too sure. I don't like seeing him so stressed. The wrinkles are growing more and more apparent every day. "The districts must be at their tipping point. Scuttle's really clamped down on them recently."
I don't know how I feel about Scuttle, but that doesn't matter. So I'll push it aside and not mention it. "Is that why you built this gym?" I ask, looking around the somewhat dingy basement. It looks a lot more cramped now with all the weights, treadmills and rowing machines. It must have cost a lot of money that we don't really have, which is how I know dad is being serious.
"Yeah. If push comes to shove and the Districts do rebel, you're going to have to be as strong as possible." My father says, pulling me a little closer.
"They'll probably enlist me in the war, won't they? One city against twelve districts doesn't sound like a good matchup." I think. But we do have an upper hand when it comes to technology, supplies, positioning and wealth.
My father thinks for a second, his eyebrows furrowed. "Possibly. I'm not sure how it'll turn out."
Dad has never mentioned which side he is on though. He must have had some contact with the rebels to find out this knowledge. "Who would you want to win?"
"I don't think that matters really. Just whatever happens Blu, pick which side you think will win." Dad pauses for a second, as he forms what he's going to say. "I know you're wise. You can make the right choice and do what's best for you. What's best for all of us actually. As long as you're realistic."
"I will. I promise I'll be."
That's a big decision to make, which comes with a lot of pressure. But I trust myself to ally with the right side. But is the right side always the morally right choice? Do I pick what's best for me and my family, or what's best for everybody? And which option is best for my family anyway? And what'll happen if I make the wrong choice?
I'll have to think about it when it comes to it. For now I should just focus on what dad's asked me too. I won't have to put as much thought into working out, aside from my routine and diet, which I can easily change. And there's no right or wrong choice, when it comes to morals, so it should be much easier.
I decide to test the treadmill out first, which my father applauds. I run for as long as I can, pushing myself as hard as I can. It doesn't matter if I'm struggling to breathe for now. I have to know my capabilities before I plan what my routine will be. I'll be doing this a lot for the foreseeable future, so I might as well get used to it. And it'll be so much worse if war does break out.
The Saint-Germain's have never been a rich family. In fact, we're rather close to the bottom of the chain of wealth in the Capitol. I know they always paint the Capitol as a perfect utopia where nobody ever struggles, where crime rates are really low and people party year round, but that isn't true for us. That isn't true for most people.
Sometimes I wonder if we're just pawns in the system too. Everybody must have a purpose to the elite, right? So what purpose do I have? Are we kept poor to convince the upper class of the Capitol not to rebel? I would have thought that's the purpose the Districts serve, but maybe it isn't close enough to home.
It's evident about how they clearly don't care about my area. Everytime I leave the house, I always have to be on edge. You have to be wary of the people around you. You have to be careful you're never in the wrong place, at the wrong time. Every step you make has to be planned.
For example, I know one of the houses at the end of my street is a drug den belonging to an infamous gang here, so I never go near there. The gang also likes to try to rope me in, though everytime I ignore them, or politely decline. And while you might think I'm overreacting, I know the peacekeepers have been surveilling the property for a while now. And if I'm seen there too often, or seen too close to the peacekeepers, one of the sides might get the wrong idea about me. I don't want to know what happens then.
So I went the long way today, through one of the parks, in the public eye. Nobody will be able to get me here. Nobody would steal, or stab, or try to get me involved with their gang in broad daylight, right?
Wrong. I still have to be cautious. The first tip is to stay as focused as possible. Don't use anything that might be distracting, like headphones or your phone. You'll be a prime victim if you're stupid enough to do bring them out in this area. You also have to blend in while simultaneously standing out enough not to be messed with. And don't approach anybody you see.
I walk quickly, squelching on the wet grass. But I notice something strange as I briskly go by the rusty railing and pile of dying leaves. There's...a lot more peacekeepers here than usual. Usually I'll be unfortunate enough to see one, or two, menacingly standing about. But there's an entire group of them. I keep my distance, unsure why they're all here today, of all days.
I guess I can ponder over it at school...maybe somebody there knows what's going on?
"Do you know why there were so many peacekeepers earlier?" I suddenly bring it up to my classmate Angelia while the teacher isn't in the class. She went to photocopy these pop quiz sheets quickly, for the next lesson.
Angelia shrugs. "Why would I know?"
I tap my fingers on the desk, covered in obscenities and inappropriate drawings carved via a compass. "I'm not sure."
Yeah, she really is naive and carefree. How can she not be worrying about this? It's never a good sign when the Peacekeepers increase in numbers. And it's so close to my house too. Could it just be the drug den? Or is something worse going on? I don't think what we're doing in the basement is illegal, but will they get the wrong idea?
"Your outfit is very...monochromatic." My classmate Angelia suddenly tells me, as if I didn't know this.
"Yeah, I thought it was only fitting to dress like my namesake." I chortle. My entire school uniform has been dyed blue and I have blue highlights in my blonde hair. It's a lot more simple than the rest of the Capitol. For example, Angelia is wearing a fake halo right now, with swan feathers glued tackily all over her outfit. She's also wearing a puffy white wig.
Angelia squeals and claps, dropping her pen on her notes. "Same! Aren't we so in sync?"
I nod, not too sure what to say. I'll happily respond to her, but I'm not really looking to become friends or anything. I still haven't gotten a good read on her yet either. I think she seems trustworthy because she seems as vapid as the rest of the Capitol girls, but it could always be an act to fit in. Regardless, she's rather harmless at the moment.
The teacher suddenly rushes in. "Sorry, sorry! I should really keep on top of things."
I go back to scribbling some notes down, but it's still at the back of my head. Maybe I'll get some answers tonight.
I hear gunshots from inside the house when I'm walking home. The windows are wide open so I hear everything. There's the screams and the cries for help and the apologies and the explanations about how they're innocent. But in seconds, they're gone too, as more gunshots fire. I guess that explains why the Peacekeepers were here.
It was a family, probably. I know I heard a parent and child at least. There was a more masculine scream. And the screams of apologies afterwards were definitely feminine. But worst of all, I could hear a baby crying. I think the baby was spared. I hope the baby was spared.
I don't know who lives there. I don't know what crimes they committed. I probably won't ever find out what they did, as I know this will slip away from the officials and there'll be no new stories or reports on what happened.
They're probably criminals. I can keep repeating that to myself to make me feel a little bit better though it isn't working well. They could be mass murderers, or abusers, or traffickers. They might be terrible sinners who deserve a punishment worth more than death. But I don't know that. All I know is that there was a family, who's screams were so terrifying. All I know is that there's an orphan, who'll never remember their parents.
But even if they didn't sound like criminals, I've learnt by now that nobody can be fully trusted. Criminals can come in all shapes and sizes. So they're probably criminals right? Right?
The screams still echo in my ears, haunting me, as I walk into my home.
The five of us are squeezed tightly on the living room sofa, Inigo in the centre. I'm sitting next to her, as I'm the second oldest and take up the most space. The youngest are scrounged about on the arms of the sofas. We've told them many times not to do that as they'll ruin it, but they don't care.
"Ok, so, Violetta...today, you'll be cleaning the back of the storage area." Inigo decides, looking down at the sheet of the responsibilities.
"Aww, that's the worst job though!" Violetta jumps up, stomping her foot. She's clearly not happy.
Redd laughs at her dismay though. "At least you're not the sucker cleaning the front."
It's now Inigo's turn to laugh, as she sinks in slightly. "Redd, that's your job."
"What? But I did that last week!" Redd lies, as he frowns.
"No, that was me." I smirk a little. "We all have to have a turn some day, buddy."
The two of them frown, but they accept their jobs with little complaining. They know they have to help out to make sure we stay afloat. The two of them rush upstairs to the storage area of the store, to get the cleaning supplies. We live underneath the shop, as it's much cheaper.
"Ella, I think you can join dad serving customers today. That's alright, isn't it?" Inigo asks. She knows that if she'd ask Redd or Violetta about their responsibilities, they'd say no straight away, so they didn't get a choice.
"Of course!" She hums a little tune as she hops up, disappearing to her room to put her uniform on.
I assume as I did till last time, I won't be doing that again. "So does that mean I'm making dyes today?"
Inigo nods, placing the clipboard down. "Yeah. You'll be with Mum. You alright with that?"
I nod too. "Yeah, I've been meaning to speak to Mum…"
Inigo raises an eyebrow, but she doesn't ask. I thank her, also disappearing upstairs. I won't need to wear a uniform for this, as I'm already wearing a set of old clothes. We never had to make dyes before this, but prices have ramped up recently and there seems to be less output recently, so we've been making some natural dyes. We still buy the synthetic dyes though.
Mum's waiting for the water to boil, as she stares blankly at the wall. There's nothing to stare at, so I can tell something is on her mind. She looks distressed too and I assume it's because of the earlier events.
"Oh, Blu! Are you ok?" She suddenly snaps out of her trance as she sees me in the corner of the eyes.
"Yeah! I was just worried about you, you looked-" I start as I sling an apron on.
She shakes her as she interrupts me. "No, no, I'm fine, really."
"Is it about the gunshots earlier?" I bluntly say it. There's no use skirting around the issue.
Mum nods, as she suddenly collapses against the wall. Tears begin to brim in her eyes, as I see the weight on her back disappear. Her legs are shaking so much, it seems like she'll fall to the floor any moment. Instantly, I go over to her to pull her into a tight hug, feeling slightly guilty. I see the tears form even faster now, as she struggles to keep them in.
"No, don't cry…" I rub her on the back, while not letting go of the hug. She replies in incoherent babbling, as I reassure that it's all going to be ok. I don't like seeing her like this. I don't want Mum to be upset.
After a minute or two of crying, she manages to pull herself together. Mum wipes her eyes and blows her nose. "Sorry, sorry. It feels good getting it all out."
"Yeah, it's better for you to vent your emotions." I say, though I think it's funny as I'm quite stoic a lot of the time.
"But I should be the one listening to you vent and looking after you. I'm your mother." Mum just about manages to get out, her jaw still shaking. That's not fair on you though. You can't hide all your struggles in front of your children…
I turn the heater off, deciding that it can wait. "It's completely ok for you to do it too. Would you like to talk about it?"
Mum hesitates, before nodding. "Yeah, I'm sorry...it's just...it's just worried and disturbed me. They killed an innocent family, just like that. In seconds, they took their lives and they're going to completely get off, scot free, no punishment. How is that fair? How is that allowed?"
It's...true. It's clear the peacekeeping system is corrupt and nothing will come of their murders, but that's how life has been. It's why we need to adapt our lives to work around it and take the necessary precautions to survive. It's what I've done. I've tried my hardest to protect us by becoming as street smart as possible and that's sadly what everybody else must do.
I wonder if they took the necessary precautions to survive though.
"Yeah, but they must have done something wrong…" I start, but my mother silences me. That probably wasn't the smartest thing to say.
"I knew Decima. She...she must have been innocent. She was such a lovely lady. So caring and protective and loving...she couldn't have done anything wrong." My mother cries, as more tears start to fall.
I...I think it's likely they were rebels then, though I'd never say that. That doesn't mean they deserve to die, but…it's justified in their eyes. They'll never see it as a miscarriage of justice. I wish I could complain and protest and try to get justice for their death but whatever I do will just result in terrible punishments for us.
I think back to what my father told me. About making the right choice, joining whoever will win. I still think it's smarter to do that, but when I hear of Decima, I wonder if it's better to go with the morally correct choice. Would it be better to side with the Districts? Or do I just follow that advice?
I don't paint often. I normally just do tie dye if I'm ever feeling creative, but...I've got a lot on my mind right now and I think I'd rather paint to be honest. So I get a canvas out from Violetta's and Ella's room (I don't tell her though as I know she'll be annoyed.), and the paints from upstairs.
I'm about to put my paintbrush in the water, when I hear a knocking on my door. "It's Inigo! I've got your wages!"
"Thank you!" I say, as I take it. I know it isn't much, but I still appreciate it. None of us want to be paid really, as the business and mum and dad need it, but they still insist. But as I open it, I see her face is rather blotchy, from crying…"Oh, is everything alright?"
Inigo sighs. "Yeah, I'm just annoyed and stressed right now…I'll be fine by the morning."
"You can join me with the paints, if you want. It's very relaxing." I wave to the canvas.
"That sounds quite nice actually." Inigo smiles. She wanders in and sits by the desk. She can have the canvas I was going to use, I don't mind watching really.
Before she starts though, I ask: "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really...actually, no I will. I was just annoyed, as I don't really want to take the business over…" Inigo starts, though she stops herself from continuing. "Sorry, I probably sound really selfish right now."
"No, that's understandable. Do you still want to go into journalism?" I say, as I watch her mix the red and blue paints.
She nods. "Yeah, but I gave up on my dreams a long time ago." She looks down, frowning. "What do you want to do?"
I'm...not really sure, actually. "I'll probably just work in the business for a while, until I find something else to do. Maybe I could take the business over."
"Wouldn't that be nice?" Inigo mutters.
As we're about to continue the topic though, I hear a loud shouting. "Redd, did you take my art supplies?" Ella shrieks, as she bursts in. I share a room with my brother, Redd. But he isn't here at the moment. "Blu?"
"Sorry, I should have asked." I awkwardly laugh, though nobody else does. I guess it was out of order off me...it wouldn't be very smart to do it to anybody else, would it? If she wasn't my sister, she'd probably shoot me…
