District Eight: Darkness

Pre-Games:

Amelia Labrador's POV:

I covered my ears as loud bells rang throughout the streets. Not a single sound rang in unison; creating a cacophony of sounds that made me have an instant headache. I clawed the crust out of my eyes as I rolled out of bed. I stretched as much as I could in the tiny closet-like room before opening the door. I walked to the kitchen and ducked under the clothesline that was tethered to the cabinets. I began to unclip my work uniform as I checked to see if any drips from the drying clothes hadn't evaporated throughout the night. The floor wasn't damp in the slightest so I folded the clothes over my arm.

"Good morning, Lia," a voice whispered through the darkness.

I turned towards the tiny living space outside the kitchen. In the darkness, I could barely make out my mother. She was hunched over on the makeshift bed that years ago used to be our couch. Her hands were making the slightest motions, and I knew she must be working on her bracelets.

"Would you like me to get a candle for you?" I asked.

"Oh no! I can wait for the sunlight. No need to waste a perfectly good wick on me."

I nodded, doubting she was even looking at me, as I strolled into our bleak bathroom. I shut the door behind me and began to splash my face with the water left over in the sink from our shower yesterday. I always kept a bucket in the shower with me to collect as much water as possible. No sense in wasting perfectly good resources. It wasn't that I hated being wasteful. I just couldn't afford to be.

As I changed into my grey dress and smock, I pondered if I had enough money to pick up any kind of food from the store today. Mother had been especially productive this week with her bracelet making. Not that many people bought them when Riley, a merchant, came by and picked them up once a week, but every dollar counted. I knew he did it out of pity, but I wasn't above charity. In fact, I would accept every ounce of it. Charity was a hard thing to come by in District Eight.

I pulled my hair back and wrapped a piece of cloth around my head. I stepped out of the bathroom and scurried to my room. I reached underneath the mattress and pulled a thin, old envelope out. I picked through the small contents and took almost all that remained. I raised my dress and stuffed the money into my underwear.

If a pickpocket managed to get my money without me noticing, they truly deserved it.

I strode towards the front door and turned the knob. As I opened the door, my mother called "Have a nice day at school!"

I flinched slightly, knowing that wasn't a good sign. She began to mutter something about looking for a job as I shut the door behind me. My mother and I didn't just have a tense relationship… there was no relationship.

How could you have a relationship with a shell?

Being poor wasn't uncommon to me. Barely scarping by was something my family had done our entire lives. I went to school, came home, and made knickknacks for hours to be sold since I was a little girl. Ironically, it was my mother who first taught me to make bracelets. This was my life, and I was content with it. Then, three years ago, it all changed in a single day. I was at school, just like usual, when someone rushed in. He informed my teacher I was to come with him immediately. He led me outside of the building where one of my neighbors, Mrs. Wood, was solemnly standing. I asked her once what was happening, but she told me to stay silent and not ask questions. I followed her without a single word as we zigzagged through the busy streets.

I never saw him or his body. I was taken straight to my mother who had a completely blank expression on her face. After some time with no response, it was Mrs. Wood who was forced to tell me what happened. She told me how my father was caught stealing from a very influential, wealthy couple. The husband lost his cool and used his influence so that my father received the maximum punishment. The already strict Peacekeepers had no problem accepting his orders as they lashed him to death in the public square. Everyone watched the lashing stoically since this wasn't an unusual event. The only person to react was my mother, who had been there for the entire ordeal. Once they whipped him past the amount called for by the law, she began to panic. She screamed, cried, and even tried to rush towards him. Nothing she did changed the outcome as she gazed in horror at my father being slowly killed.

That night we both cried. We cried together in the darkness of her bed as we held each other. We cried for hours until we fell asleep from the exhaustion of it. That memory was the last one I had of the woman whom I still thought of as my mother. We continued to cry for days, but eventually I would only cry for an hour. Then for forty-five minutes. Then a half hour. While I slowly healed, my mother continued to spiral out of control. Not only did she sob uncontrollably, but she began to have small outbursts at work. One day, she snapped and began to scream hysterically. She shoved several boxes of material over and they got jammed inside a machine. Safe to say, she was fired immediately. After that, I dropped out of school and took her place. I used a different name and was put at the very back of the production line. I was paid minimum wage and melted into the lines of women who worked countless hours. I kept my head down, stayed quiet, and did the mindless task in front of my every day for hours.

My mother, on the other hand, only became worse. After several weeks, she found another job. Then some time passed, and she brokedown again. Her episodes began to increase in number. It became a pattern of obtaining and losing jobs until no one would hire her. At this point, I never knew what I would be greeted by when I walked through the front door. Sometimes she would be slicing some bread as if everything was ok. There would be days she would forget I even dropped out of school or that my father was even dead. Then there were days she was completely unresponsive or an emotional wreck. It was as if I was dealing with a child as I, at first, tried to take care of her. I did everything I could to try to fix her… But I couldn't do anything. I finally gave up and decided to let her do her own thing.

Some might say I'm cruel for not caring about her. In this district, family was everything. No matter what happened, you took care of each other. My lack of empathy would be viewed as horrible, but I disagreed. She stopped taking care of me first. She left me, at the age of ten, to work twelve hour shifts and keep this shack of a household afloat. She left me to get food and feed the both of us. She left me alone in the bed and moved out to sleep on the couch every night. The only reason I didn't report her for being negligent or run away was because doing so would be worse than death. I would be forced into an orphanage. I would be given the bare minimum, still be forced to work, and then have my money taken from me. Living in one of those places would be pure torture. No, I'd rather be left alone in my tiny closet with my crazy mother. At least this way I had some control. It was only five more years until I was eighteen, and then I could leave. I could find an even smaller apartment, live by myself, and save money. Maybe someday I could earn enough to live contently with three meals a day. With enough hard work, maybe someday I would be happy.

The sweat dripped down my face as the heat assaulted me. I folded each pair of fabric that rolled my way. I never noticed how shiny they were or how soft they felt. The only thought I every struggled with was how a single article could keep me fed for days easily. I wondered how easy it would be to slip it somewhere. Would they notice one going missing? When the store received its supplies, could they really track a single number back to me? The answer was yes. The thieves were always ratted out. We were constantly surrounded by our coworkers and eyes tended to wander. As much money as I could make from stealing, they would make something too if they told the foreman of a thief in our midst. In fact, it was encouraged. People here waited in anticipation for someone to get the greed to steal so that they could earn the tiniest pay raise.

I had actually seen several people steal in the past three years. Each time, I thought about reporting them. For a split second, my taste buds would flare as I imagined the several more bites of food I could get. Then I would remember my father, and I couldn't bring myself to do it. I knew they would be fired, but what if more happened? What if I caused the same unhappiness that was done to me? I knew it was silly, especially since every one of them was caught anyways. Whether I took advantage of it or someone else did, the outcome was the same. Still, it was something I couldn't do… If I wanted to be left alone, I should show others the same courtesy.

"If we don't get lunch break soon, I'll break this machine myself," a girl spat as she stitched something to a shirt before placing it back on the belt.

"You say that every day," someone else chimed, "Try doing this with a bad back and then see if you have anything to moan about."

I ignored the women as they complained. I had heard their names countless times, but never bothered to remember them. They could be categorized into three categories: whiny, bitchy, and stupid. The whiny women did exactly what you thought. They constantly cried and droned on and on about how horrible this job and their life were. The bitchy women were created to be an opposing force. They complained as well, but they usually did it as they tried to tear the whiners to the ground. It was a constant struggle that had no clear victor. Then you had the stupid girls who could obviously never do any job but this. Some of them almost seemed cheery, which aggravated everyone. Even though I didn't complain and had resigned myself to this career, I wasn't thrilled by my work. It certainly didn't bring a smile to my face or, god forbid, give me the urge to hum. Just imagine being stationed to a stupid girl humming the same tune for twelve hours a day. That was torture.

Suddenly, the bell rang. I heard the deafening click of the metal doors as they unlocked, allowing us to leave. The women clumped together like suds as they flooded out of the large factory. I followed them with my eyes trained on the ground. The smoggy air of District Eight felt like the freshest of breezes after leaving the muggy room. I broke away from the crowd as swiftly as possible and made my way to the edge of the yard. Behind this factory, there was a concrete space surrounded by a raised metal fence that had to be at least fifteen feet tall. It wasn't meant to keep us prisoners. Most of us were lucky to have this job. It was to make sure no one tried to sneak away without clocking out or completing their shift.

Apparently the rich couldn't waste chump change on a single runaway girl who might need a break from this monotonous lifestyle.

I felt myself feeling bad for some of the girls here, even if they were older than me. It was easy to pick out the ones who weren't made for this way of living. Whether their family met financial ruin or they suddenly had no one, it was clear by their constant teary eyes that they had no idea what they were doing. I wish I could help them, but I knew it was impossible. Unlike me, they hadn't yet given up hope in an easy, happy life.

I noticed a group of teenagers walking in my general direction and immediately began to walk away. The older one with bright red hair was always the signal for me to keep my space. There was a small, but growing, sect of girls who I included in the 'stupid' category. They were the girls who had the most hope out of all of us.

They were the rebels of District Eight.

I refused to be anywhere near them. Not only did I think they were idiots, but I was secretly furious with them. I plopped down against a wall and glared at them. Before them, my life was fine. I got up, I worked, and then maybe would find time to myself before I went home. Sometimes I found a sunny place to sit or went window shopping for things I could never buy. Then they had to cause a ruckus. They claimed to be fighting for our freedom, but all they did was make life more difficult. Since they started rebelling there was an enforced curfew, an allotted amount of electricity and water per day, and I was paid even less than before. All they did was take my already crappy existence and dump even more poop on it.

All I wanted was to be left alone… I would obey all the rules as long as I was allowed that one thing.

The sun was beginning to set as I exited the entrance to the store. I held the bread close to my waist as I immediately marched down the street. The curfew started as soon as the sun disappeared from the sky. It wasn't an exact time, and it wasn't fair; but who said life was ever fair? People bustled to and fro, attempting to finish whatever they needed to get done for the day. Some citizens were frantically hopping from store to store, while others haggled with merchants on the streets. Several beggars filled dark corners before they would be forced to scurry away to hide from the patrols of Peacekeepers. Citizens out past curfew were shot, homeless or not.

I kept my eyes trained on the ground as I robotically walked the familiar route home. It was as if the walk was programmed into me. It was something I could never forget no matter how many years passed by. I weaved in and out of the crowds as I tried to shrink from existence. Every single day I walked to and from work I knew I was helpless. I was a tiny thirteen year old girl. Any minute a stranger could decide to whisk me away if I wasn't careful. They could take whatever I was carrying, whatever I was I wearing, and whatever else they wanted… Again, I accepted this fact and tried to stay out of sight. As long as I didn't draw attention to myself, no one would see how weak I really was. No one would bother me.

I marched up the flights of stairs to my home and pulled out my key. For half a second, I hoped that everything would be normal. Maybe I would stroll in and see my mother smiling and working in the kitchen. At the very least singing a tune as she continued to work on making bracelets. That second ended curtly when before I even made it near the top I could hear faint cries and shrieks. Once I reached the top the noise was magnified by loud thumping.

Mr. Wood was poised in front of the door practically beating it down. He turned around when my last step made a loud smack on the tiled floor.

"You need to go in there and shut her up," he yelled, "I've been listening to her moan and groan for hours now!"

"Yes sir," I nodded as I stepped in front of the door and wiggled the key into the lock.

"Don't make me do it for you," he hissed into my ear. I felt his hot breath on my neck and shivered. I glanced to my right to see Mrs. Wood's face peeking out of the door frame. She was stoic as usual, but I could see a glint of fear in her eyes. As I slammed the door behind me, I forced myself not to feel guilty. We all had our own burdens to bear. Hers was Mr. Wood and mine was my mother.

Now in my home the screeches were far louder. The sound was coming from the bathroom. She was in hysterics as her shrieks and cries came in between short breaths. I walked to the kitchen and placed the bread on the stove top. I pulled out a knife and sliced of a small piece. I munched on it as I removed my smock and placed it near the sink. I removed my dress as I walked to my room. I swiftly changed into my nightwear and brought my uniform back to the kitchen. I squeezed my eyes shut as her cries got even louder. There was nothing I could do when she was like this. I only knew that after many failed attempts. Whether I sat in there with her and tried to hold her for hours or ignored the entire event, it didn't matter. She would cry just as long because, as usual, she could see only herself. All she could ever see was her own pain.

I scrubbed the grime and dust from my uniform. My strokes got rougher as she got louder. Eventually I was practically ringing the life out of the clothes. Then the knocking started again. Mr. Wood's fists beat against the door as he yelled obscenities. The noise only seemed to escalate as bells went off, signaling curfew.

Finally, I just couldn't take it. I covered my ears and finally let the tears come. I ran into my room and shut the door. I threw myself onto my bed and grabbed my ears so hard I thought I might tear them off. It only muffled the noise. I could still make out each bell, each knock, each scream… I could hear every note and it was killing me. All I wanted was to be alone and away from all this pain and suffering. I didn't know if I could wait five years to get away from this. I didn't know much of anything anymore…

All I knew was that at least my mother's cries kept me from hearing my own.

Rowan Marova's POV:

"Rowan!"

I heard my name carried by the wind as I ripped weed after weed out of the bed. I wiped the sweat from my brow with one hand as I tossed each wildflower behind me. I knew most of the tribe hated weeding; finding it tedious, but I loved it. Besides planting, it was the only time I really was able to settle down and dig into the earth. It was soothing to feel the grains in between my fingers and absorb it's warmth through my touch. I barely looked up as the figured approached, recognizing the voice.

"Come on, it's the day before the Reaping," Bear hollered, "You know what that means."

"Give me some time," I smiled as I blew hair out of my face, "I promised Selina I would get this done."

"Fine," he barked impatiently, "but don't get upset when we leave you behind."

My smile widened, knowing that there was plenty of time before our trip into the District. I glanced up as my tall brother stomped away with his shoulders tensed. It was very amusing seeing the usually stoic Bear so antsy about something. It was a sight to behold.

I, on the other hand, felt no rush to sneak into District Eight. That dark place held nothing of interest to me. The only things inside its fences were demons and prisoners. Two things I had no intention of becoming.

My place was outside those fences with the Marova tribe. They were my family, but I had heard the words 'gypsies' and 'cult' tossed around during the Reapings. I had asked the tribal leader, Fred, what they had meant, but he told me they were just words used by lost people. I was to pay no heed to anything they said.

And pay no heed I ever have. My brothers and sisters were the only people I needed. Besides them, the forests that surrounded me were my home. The treetops were my sanctuary, and the earth was my soft resting place. This was where I belonged. Not with those monstrosities.

I nodded and stood up as I smiled. Today was one of the very few remaining times I would ever need to sneak back into District Eight. I only had today and three more Reapings before I never had to see that wretched, soulless place again. Knowing that drove me forward as I washed the dirt from my hands and began to walk towards camp.

In our tribe, we were all brothers and sisters. Age was not a factor in our relations. We were all equals and treated each other as such. However, those of us below the age of eighteen still needed to learn. Until that age was reached, we had to learn every trade of the tribe. This included gathering, trading, scouting, crafting, cooking, and, yes, even sneaking into the district and stealing. Although I had at one point had moral qualms about stealing, it was shaken from me the first time I went to a Reaping. The tribal leader had always taught us about the horrible inequality the districts faced, but I couldn't believe it until my eyes saw the destitution some lived in while others walked around in riches. It was disgusting.

It was something I had wished to fix, but the tribal leader swiftly taught me that we couldn't save those lost to us forever. Only the young could be saved from the darkness… Once a person had reached a certain age, they were gone forever. It was a sad truth, but it only made me more thankful to be among the lucky few who were saved.

The mix of grief, anger, and repulsion only supported my decision to stay far away from the district. My hope was that once I turned eighteen I would be able to take the position of a gatherer. I wanted to scavenge, give life to the land, and then reap it for our tribe. It was a beautiful cycle of life. A glorious relationship between humans and Mother Earth. However, I would graciously also accept the position of a scout. Finding new locations for the tribe to migrate to and ensuring our protection was also a noble position.

Anything would be better than a trader or a thief. Even if we stole from the rich, I knew I would be miserable every time I saw the disparity in District Eight. It was better to put as much distance between them and me as possible.

I walked into camp and was greeted by the humming and singing of the tribe. Our tribe constantly played music to the spirits to appease them as we temporarily used their land as a sanctuary. I had learned to play a reed flute from a young age and always joined in making music whenever I had free time.

"Did you get the last bit of that bed?"

I turned towards a beautifully tarped tent as Selina exited it. Selina was a grey, wise woman who knew much about the spirits and magic. She never made an inaccurate prophecy or casted a spell that didn't come true. She was the most powerful person I knew, and I had nothing but respect for her.

"Of course. I always do as you ask."

"Oh, I know you do Rowan. You are such a bright soul."

I smiled, bowed, and continued to be on my way.

"You're headed to meet with the group by the fences, correct?"

I spun around and nodded. Her usual whimsical smile faded as she croaked, "Be careful, my sweet. The district is a dark place with many challenges and temptations."

My heart sunk. Did she really think so little of me that I would fall into any of those enticements? Or was… was this perhaps some sort of warning? A vision?

Before I could ask, she disappeared back into her tent. I wanted to chase after her, but I knew the others were waiting for me. Bear was right when he said they would leave without me and when they came back… they would be most disappointed in me.

And that was something I could never afford to happen.

"Do you understand your instructions?" Robin asked as she stared at all of us.

I nodded devotedly as I glanced at the group around me. Every year the day before the Reaping, a group of the Marova entered the district. Those that entered scouted out potential targets. They usually looked for houses brimming with wealth or those that had multiple entrances and exits. One thing that was always a given was that they had to have wealth. Stealing from those that already had nothing was unforgivable in our eyes.

Then those same houses the scouts had marked would be raided the next day when every citizen was gathered at one central location. Those wealthy capitalists would complain to the Peacekeepers, but nothing would happen. Although we had to watch out for the Peacekeepers every other day of the year, during the Reaping we were safe.

Long ago, Fred had made a deal with the Peacekeepers after years of them trying to catch us. During the Reaping, we would have a truce. Those under eighteen would attend the Reaping to satisfy the Capitol, but not a single Marova would be apprehended or touched unless reaped. This gave us one day a year to get as many resources as possible with no penalty to us.

Still, that didn't make today safe. My heart still shattered whenever I thought about the brothers and sisters we lost due to Peacekeepers. Some of us had been incarcerated, while others were flat out killed. Stealing was despicable in District Eight, and it took very little to give them the 'right' to end a life. A right that no person should ever have.

"Here are the places you will be going," Robin said to those of us whose first time this was as she handed out pieces of paper.

This year, the only people learning this trade were Bear, Crystal, and me. It was always at the age of sixteen that we first entered the district during any other time besides the day of the Reaping. We would only continue to enter besides that day if we were being trained to take up this position or the position of trader later in life.

Our job was simple. We each only had one house to scout out. We were to break in, take in the surroundings, and deem if it was worth stealing from or not. Since this was also a lesson on observation, we were supposed pay more attention to those that lived there then one usually would. This would also teach us the true greed and evil some of these people had in their hearts, or perhaps how helpless they were if we were tasked with scouting a house that those in poverty possessed.

Before we began to take our positions, Fred hobbled in front of us. Fred was the oldest in the tribe and was also one of the founders of it. It was through him that we all found light. He opened every single one of our eyes and helped save us.

He closed his eyes and chanted, "Great Goddess of day and night. Protect them with all your might."

We all repeated it once and gave a moment of silence before we rushed forward.

"Good luck," Bear panted as we sprinted.

"The same to you," I shouted back as I surged ahead.

I was no stranger to running. I took great pleasure in racing through the forest as I acquainted myself with it. I had spent most of my life running, climbing, and working the earth that surrounded me. As much as I loved to sit and mediate with Mother Earth, racing through her creations was what truly made me feel connected to her. It gave me a primal, animalistic sensation that nothing else could ever hope to achieve.

I looped around the outskirts of the district as I followed the map that was drawn out for me. The trees blurred on one side of me as the chains flashed past on the other. I finally made it to my specified entrance and smiled. This was nothing.

I ran right up to it and immediately began to climb it. Robin told us that they had vandalized the power system, as per tradition, the night before. There was nothing to worry about except the barbed wire at the top. While others were most likely directed to places they could squeeze through or dig underneath, mine was actually a challenge. I wouldn't have been surprised if someone was observing me to see if I could rise to meet it.

When I launched myself over the top without even brushing the barbed wire, I knew I had not only risen but flew above it.

As soon as my feet hit the ground, I launched myself forward. Buildings melted into one another as I dashed through the shadows. I darted into designated alleys to avoid high traffic areas; although at this time of day most people were stuck inside their prison cells they called 'factories'. It was depressing to know that they were so completely brainwashed they thought they were willingly doing it as a 'job'. It only made me hate the Capitol more with every passing second. They were condemning so many people to a life of misery and blackness.

Finally, I made it to my destination. It was a rather large estate. It had several stories and, what appeared to be, a patch of grass behind it. In a district with nothing but brick, this place was wealthy enough to 'possess' nature. How disgusting that this capitalist society could even turn nature into a commodity.

I easily vaulted myself over the fence and snuck through the patch of grass. I scurried up the steps to the flimsy-looking door. I peered at the lock as I grabbed several picks. This one looked different than the ones Robin had brought back for us to practice on. It seemed higher-quality… Much better than the old, clunky locks we used.

I stuck one pin in with my tool and began to work it. I dug and listened as I tried to feel for the sweet spot. Every lock had one. This one just had to be…

Crack

I fished out the broken pick and inserted another one. After several picks, I finally managed to open the cursed device. I let out a huff of frustration. I should have been able to do that on at least the second try…

I entered the premises and shut the door behind me with my foot. For several seconds, I was taken aback by the beauty of it. Mother Earth and her creations were the most beautiful things I had ever seen, but the belongings in this house held their own in comparison. Pieces of canvas were stretched across walls with vibrant colors splashed across them. I walked up to one and touched it. These colors were nearly impossible to replicate on our cloths, and even if we succeeded they swiftly faded in the sun.

I walked over to an adjoining room and stared openly at the shiny devices. There was a large metal door, which I assumed led to riches. I looked for a lock of some sort and was deeply confused when I could locate none. In a vain attempt, I pulled at its handle. To my complete and utter shock, it opened on its own. Cold air blew across my skin and light blinded me. When I blinked, there were fruit and vegetables lining glassy shelves. My jaw dropped at the amount of food located in one place.

"What a strange place that food is so valuable one must keep it in a vault," I whispered aloud, "Even stranger that they don't lock it."

I shut the vault and continued to a different room before I confused myself even more with their strange crafts. When my tribal leader had described the types of places these people lived in, I had no idea what to truly expect. My mind imagined our objects, except golden and decorated with jewels. I never once expected them to have completely different things! Perhaps in the Capitol, but not in a place so nearby!

The next room appeared to be a place of meeting. Objects for sitting lined the room, but they weren't stools or mats like I was used to. They were plush eyesores that looked like they could swallow you whole. I tentatively walked towards one and sat down. I gasped in shock as it melted to my body's shape.

"Selina told me that only our tribe could perform magic," I whispered, "But surely these people possess some form of it."

My latest fascination was the pieces of soft, silky fabric that hung from the windows when I saw a glittering piece of furniture. As I walked towards it, the piece seemed to be some sort of trophy case. Objects of worth were lined on its shelves. I shrieked in surprise as I saw someone on the other side.

I covered my mouth, chiding myself for my childishness. The entire back of the object was lined with a mirror. It was only my reflection, something I didn't see much of. Although we had mirrors back in our tribe, I very rarely used them. Vanity was a trait we did not admire, but did not stop. I knew several brothers and sisters who loved the jewels we collected and enjoyed adorning their body with them. I, on the other hand, abstained from putting much worth on my appearance. It seemed silly and useless when there were so many other things I could be doing with my time.

However, for this one adventure, I decided to indulge my silly side. I observed my messy red hair that reached my shoulders. My small nose sat in the middle of my face framed by high cheekbones. My dark eyes bore into every detail of my appearance as I memorized it in this moment in time. The sad thing was that it would change in a very short time. This was why vanity was so silly. We should embrace the change in our bodies instead of fighting against it.

Right as I was about to turn around, a row of objects on the shelf caught my eye. They were pictures, something we rarely saw back in our tribe. I located the handle and opened the glass barrier that stood between us. I reached inside and found a picture of a young couple. They were both smiling from ear to ear as they stood beneath some sort of arch. They were both clad in white and seemed far too young to be able to possess this wealth. The man had dark brown hair and a serious air to him, but the woman reminded me of Selina. Graceful, intelligent, and full of love. Her eyes were glimmering ponds and her hair was auburn oak. It was odd to see someone who grew up in this darkness have such light inside them.

The next picture was obviously the same people, but they were much older. They were surrounded by two children. Both were girls and they shared their father's dark brown hair and eyes. They seemed to have the same serious air, although the girl on the right had a mischievous look in her eyes. It was as if she knew something the rest of us didn't. The mother, though, looked the same. She shined like a bright flame, but this time her eyes held a hint of sadness in them. It seemed old… Like an ache or scar.

Then there was one more picture. This was of the same woman, but young again. She had lost the sadness, but gained exhaustion. Even though she seemed tired beyond belief, she wasn't miserable. In fact, she seemed the most joyous in this picture. I picked up the frame as I looked at the small infant in her arms. The child couldn't be more than one. It was wrapped in a blue blanket, which signified it was a boy. My brow furrowed in confusion. Why wasn't this boy in the family photograph? Had he died in infancy? It wasn't unheard of.

No wonder she was sad. She must have lost her firstborn. The boy was gurgling with delight as he shook some sort of toy. His hair was a bright red, even more vibrant than his mother's… And his eyes… His eyes were a dark shade of brown much like his father's…

I looked up into the mirror in front of me. My eyes widened as I nearly dropped the frame. Instead, I instantly clutched it to my chest.

"I was wondering how long it would take you to figure it out. I thought I was going to have to tell you, like we do with the… less bright brothers and sisters."

I spun around and watched as Robin walked out of a shadowy corner.

"What… What is this!" I yelled angrily

"That's a picture."

"You know exactly what I mean."

She sighed as she walked towards me, "This is the home of the people who gave birth to you."

The Marova tribe believed in purity in the highest form. They did not procreate and reproduce. They believed that not only tainted them, but also was selfish. Instead of giving their resources to new life, they needed to give it to those that were already in this world. Those that needed to be saved… The infants of the wealthiest people.

The infants they stole from cribs in the dead of night.

I shook my head. "Why… Why would-"

"We do this to give every child of our tribe a choice," Robin recited, "This is the world you were saved from. Now, as you reach the brink of adulthood, you are given the choice to return to it. You can turn your back on the light and be swallowed back into the darkness."

"I was told they were monsters!" I accused.

"You wouldn't call them that?" she asked in genuine surprise, "Look around you. Look at what they hoard for themselves when there are people dying in the streets every day. People like them are the reason for so much strife and death. Their selfishness and greed kills innocents every minute!"

"But…" I whispered.

I thought they were too selfish to love me.

"But what?"

I said nothing as silence occupied the space that surrounded us. My mind was thinking a million of thoughts all at once. I never once thought of the humans who gave birth to me as people. They were greedy monsters who could love nothing but power and wealth. But now… now my entire world was shattered, and I only had seconds to make a choice that would affect how it would be rebuilt.

"You must make a decision. Will you leave your brothers and sisters, who have only every cared for and loved you, for these fiends? Or will you turn away from the temptations of greed and gloom and step back into the world of the light?"

I looked at the woman who was in the palm of my hand. I had so many questions… Questions that if I left would be unanswered.

"Is that really your decision?"

I looked up and felt guilt run through me as she glared at me with betrayal.

"I expected better from you."

As she turned her back to me, my body was filled with terror and dread. In a matter of seconds, she would be gone and I would never see my tribe again… my family.

"Your expectations are met," I responded.

She turned to face me as I placed the photograph back on the shelf. I looked at my surroundings in disgust. This was what Selina was warning me of. All these riches emitted dark energy. They tempted you to forsake the truth. Selina knew I would struggle, not because I'm weak but because every person who faces this trial must. It's this crash test that prepares us for every visit we will ever have to this district. We see what we could have had, and we scrap it. We reach the point of no return.

"You reject the darkness?"

I stepped towards her and spat on the ground underneath my feet, "I more than reject it. I despise it."

I watched gloomily from a tree stump as my brothers and sisters danced around the fire. I had removed myself from the festivities some time ago and went to meet the cool breeze. Every night before the Reaping, we held a ritual for Mother Earth. It was to ensure that not a single Marova child would be reaped.

To this date in history, the ritual had rung true.

Afterwards was the biggest celebration of the year. Before tonight, I thought it was to counteract the negativity of the Reaping, but I was wrong. It was to celebrate the return of the brothers and sisters who faced the darkness and came home.

"Why are you all the way out here?" Bear asked as he approached me.

When I didn't respond, he sat down next to me. We hadn't spoken much when I came back from the district that afternoon. I was the last to return and many accounted it because of the distance I had to run. Only Robin and I knew it was due to my struggle with my inner demons.

"Is everything ok?" he asked.

For the first time in a long time, I craved touch. I leaned my head against Bear's broad shoulder and left it there. In our tribe, touch wasn't uncommon. Certain rituals involved very uncomfortably close settings and situations. It wasn't uncommon to greet your brothers and sisters with hugs or kisses to the forehead. However, it was never prolonged or intimate. It was seen as taboo since we were taught it could lead to… carnal actions.

Instead of moving away, he placed his head on top of mine.

"I know we aren't supposed to talk about what happened today… But you can… If you want…"

My heart began to beat faster. I didn't once think about what me leaving the celebration looked like to everyone else. Normally, I was the first one to begin dancing. I was full of energy and positivity. I always had a smile on my face and a hop in my step. I filled the silence with music and laughter whenever possible. With how I had been acting since I returned… Everyone must have thought the worst!

"There's nothing to talk about," I stated.

I heard a hardness in my voice that had never truly been there before… It felt bitter and wrong.

"You don't need to lie to me. I get it."

"Get what?"

"I understand that it was a struggle. It was so hard to see all those things… The things we could have had…"

I sat up and looked straight at him. His eyes were soft and his face was inches from mine. My heart fluttered in an unnatural way as I hissed, "I didn't face any kind of struggle."

"Rowan, you took a long time to get back-"

"It was a big location to scout out," I interrupted.

"Ro-"

"And furthermore," I continued as I stood up, "I find it offensive you would intertwine your unsavory desires and thoughts with mine. How dare you assume that simply because you failed to fall back on our teachings that I did the same!"

Bear stood up, and I couldn't help but feel insignificant. He was at least a head taller than me, if not more.

"I get it."

"Stop sayingthat."

"You can't admit how you're feeling because it's so fresh."

My blood began to boil with both fear and anger because of how well he knew what was in my heart.

"Don't you dare tell me how I feel."

I spun around and walked away before he could get another word out. I wasn't going to let Bear fill me with doubt and fright. I had to stay optimistic. I had to continue to rely on Mother Earth and my tribe.

I felt bad for leaving Bear alone in the dark as I stepped into the light of the fire. I knew we would talk everything out once the terror of the Reaping had passed. After that, everything would go back to normal. I would spend months in the woods away from that wretched place… I would reconnect with Mother Earth and my tribe. I would be the shining example of spirit and faith that Selina believed I was.

I refused to lose myself and be a failure.

Hey everyone,

For those of you that don't want to read the long explanation and update below, here is a quick summary. I'm back, I'm not giving up on this story, and updates will be more frequent but not consistent. College is time consuming, to say the least.

For those that want details, hi.

Let me start off with saying I'm sorry for the long, unannounced hiatus. I got many PMs from people who were worried/just wanted answers and I never responded too many of them. For that, I apologize. It's time for me to come clean about something. For two and a half years now, I've been struggling with an illness. I've been sick for a long time and it's finally starting to get better. Don't worry, it is not currently life threatening and wasn't ever really except for one incident when it first flared up. It's not something I ever really talked about because I didn't find it important and fanfiction was, at times, my escape. I didn't want to be asked about it or hear about it in one of the very few places where I could escape from it.

Now, that isn't the only reason that I've been so infrequent. Because, in all honesty, there were times all I did was write so that I could forget about it. It helped me write more often. It's getting better that took me away from fanfiction. I got better around the same time I started my first year of college last year, and I needed time to experience life. I met some amazing people, and some not-so-amazing people, and did things I had never even done during my high school years. It was almost as if I was catching up for all the years I spent going to school, coming home, and spending the rest of the day doing fanfiction things (something I would never trade away for the world, by the way).

Here's an update on my life. Classes are hard, but I'm learning a lot. I dated a boy for a while. He taught me more about romantic love and the feelings associated with it than I had ever read about. He also taught me more about what heartbreak feels like than I ever thought I would learn. I made some lifelong friends. I made some manipulative friends who taught me how to distinguish lies from the truth. I learned who I really am and how to stand up for that without being a complete and utter bitch.

I traveled to a lot of places. I've kayaked miles up a river and gone to hidden ruins and waterfalls. I've felt the tropic breeze on my face. I've laughed until I've cried and cried until I've laughed. I've lived life in a way I never thought I could.

I spent a summer living a Sarah Dessen novel, which for those of you who don't know what that is, it pretty much means I lived a cheesy, teenage novel about growing up. What she writes about, cheesy as it is, can be surprisingly true. I've felt things I've only ever read about and thought I could never understand.

And now I'm ready to write about it again. I spent six years straight writing fanfiction. I burned myself out and ran out of creativity. I sponged all the creativity I could get from every television show and novel. I took every experience from others and put it into my writing. I put myself and my feelings and thoughts into characters, but wrote about situations I had never been a part of. And now I have refilled myself and can get that creativity from me. From my experiences. From situations I've been in.

Long story short, I'm going to finish this story and I'm going to finish it strong. I'm going to write about all the things I've had trapped in my mind for a year since I started it. After that? Who knows. Maybe I'll write a book. Maybe I'll never write again and will continue my schooling. Maybe I'll get a Masters in Social Work and become a therapist. Maybe I'll work for a non-profit.

But for now, this is my project. My child. And I thank you for always being there for me and being there when I come back. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this last adventure with me.

Until the next update,

Europa