Caleb Bronx: What Would You Do?
What WouldYou Do? by City High (Bastille Cover)
What would you do if your son was at home?
Crying all alone
On the bedroom floor
Cause he's hungry…
Note: Caleb's chapter will be a series of flashbacks. Certain parts will be thoughts, instances, etc.
Caleb Bronx (22) D3 Citizen
Oh, Caleb. You're so stupid, so utterly stupid.
You really thought I loved you?
How pathetic.
Demetri?
Do I love him?
No.
Why you ask?
Because he's your son.
I couldn't afford an abortion.
Crying you say?
I don't give a fuck.
Have a good life, Caleb.
"Where's Mommy?"
"Mom is… she's away for awhile, Dem."
"Awhile? How long's that?"
"I'm not sure."
"Why aren't we with Mommy?"
I crouch down to his level, meeting his clear green eyes. Her eyes. "She left to…"
"Did she lose herself?"
I chuckle as the memory of telling the small 4 year old that McKenna needed to 'find herself' just several weeks ago. "I'm not sure when she'll be back, son."
He lowers his head. "Okay…"
I ruffle his brown hair, one of the few things we share in common. "That's my boy. I have to go work tonight, okay?"
Demetri nods his head firmly. "Okay, Daddy." He lowers his head and drags his feet to our bedroom, his mouth tight and eyes strained.
Before I leave, I collect all of the photographs in the small home of McKenna and set the oven stove aflame, setting her pictures and my memories into ash…
The city lights of District 3 are solemn, the street light lit dimly against the black void of darkness that surrounds the tiny District at midnight. The cool breeze wafts through the area, chilling every bone in my body with shame and regret.
Shame for what I must do at night to support Demetri and I, to recover the debt that McKenna left us with. The regret for starting in this clandestine business, selling my body to wealthy citizens in the northern area while my son cries all alone in bed because he is lonely and hungry.
As I attract the attention of an older woman, blonde and slim with a wad of cash in her small hands, the pain and memories begin to suppress me. The weight of living like this not beneficient, but noxious and deadening. The one thought though, the one thing in my life that shines through the long, vigorous hours of factory work and this is a small boy with captivating green eyes and a big heart.
Demetri.
You have one missed voicemail…
Beeeeep
"Hello, Mr. Bronx. This is Icelynne Winterrose from the Capitol. You have been chosen from a large list of factory workers from Districts 3 and 5 to work alongside myself and six others for a Gamemaker position in which you will be head of visual performances for the Hunger Games. Further details will be sent to you. I wish both you and your son a wonderful day."
Beeeeep
"Daddy, I don't wanna go to the Capitol."
"We have to."
"No."
"Yes, Demetri."
"Mommy's not there."
I open my mouth to respond, but no words come out. I sigh and continue to pack the few belongings we have, collecting old photographs and treasures for that necessity like clothes and food will be provided while staying at President Echo's mansion temporarily until an apartment becomes available.
"That's the last bag." I wipe the sleek film of sweat from my forehead as the afternoon heat begins to beat down in the cooling deprived house. "You ready, Dem?"
"No." He pouts and crosses his small arms around his chest. "I'm going to miss kindergarten and my friends and Grandma and Ms. Langston and…"
"You'll make new friends, and we'll come down to visit during the winter and spring. This is just for a little while…"
He frowns. "You said that about Mom, too. ' For a little while.'" His voice is rough, broken. "Mommy's never coming back for us, isn't she?"
I stare into his mother's eyes and see the young spirit of a boy vanishing before my eyes. "No." I grit my teeth, the tears beginning to form in my eyes. "I'm sorry."
Demetri's face and ears begin to turn a reddish tinge, his eyes closing and fat tears cascading down his slim cheeks. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" He drops his head into his hands, sobbing and screaming.
Taking the small, underfed boy into my arms, the honking of a car sounds and three men enter into the kitchen/living room and collect the few bags that we will take on our long journey to the Capitol. A young man escorts me to a black car, Demetri snugged in my arms as the muffled sobs and hiccups send him to sleep.
As the streets and buildings in 3 begin to grow smaller and smaller, I glimpse out the window and watch as McKenna is strapped onto a gurney. Her figure anorexic and sunken, her once lively green eyes now dead and cold as the paramedics pump restlessly into her chest. She is long dead, her bone white skin aged and wrinkled. In that one instance I was able to note each imperfection that befell her in the years she had left me, Demetri.
The effects of heroin abuse sending her into oblivion as her corpse in bagged and thrown into the ambulance, the faint beeping of the luxury car sending me to sleep as the source of my demons is put to rest…
A/N: Next chapter will feature Mimzi.
1. What did you think of Caleb? Demetri?
2. How do you think Caleb will fit into the Gamemaker circle?
Love Always, Domi