Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoy my writing.
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, although I TOTALLY wished i did. The ending would have been soooo much different. ;)
I had already made it to the merchant section of District 12 when I realized something; my father pretty much had bribed me to get out of the house, and I had overlooked this detail because the temptation to buy myself something was too strong. After I thought it over, I realized how selfish it was of me. I looked at the three coins that father gave me.
At school, we learned about the history of Panem, including the most recent and interesting part about District 12's last tributes, Katniss Everdeen, my mother, and Peeta Mellark, my father, and how they even changed the rules for my parents, the "star-crossed lovers of District 12." We also learned about the rebellion that happened twenty-seven years ago. I had seen pictures of them, my father and my mother in the textbooks. My mother, in the hideous Capitol attire that would make any other person look like a clown but made her look so attractive. I could see why my father fell for her. She was absolutely striking. I was also educated about how we are the wealthiest family in the District, even richer than the mayor! That surprised me, especially because my mother refused to wear any expensive, Capitol-like clothing that most of the shops sported for the whole year. When my mother goes to the Meadow to "collect her thoughts" as she calls it, she still wears the tattered boots that she has owned since she was my age at least. It seems every time she slips the supple leather onto her feet, a new hole opens up by her toes, which she tries her hardest to mend.
It was harder to learn about my father, though, having to read about the more than one time that he tried to kill my mother because of the false memories that the Capitol had made him think were true. And yet, it's hard to think that anyone would stay with a person who had been programmed to kill them.
Aden hadn't learned about this yet, and he wouldn't for a couple of years, at least. At the house, my parents made it pretty clear for me not to bring any of it up, them wanting him to live all of his childhood life without knowing about our family history. I think it's hard for my father to think of his past, where he begged my mother to leave him because he was too worried about killing her.
I have only witnessed one of father's outbreaks once, when mother was still pregnant with Aden. I was little, very little, maybe seven or eight. I remember that scary, distant look in my father's bright blue eyes, the way he snarled at my mother and called her a "mutt." I remember watching from the top of the stairs, too horrified to even let them know I was watching. Instead I watched my mother somehow soothe him. After that, he held her close and kept repeating, "I'm sorry Katniss," while stroking her hair.
I decided not to purchase anything that day, and that I was going to wait and spend it when I really wanted something. I headed to Posy's to pick up Aden.
Mother's eyes had been that way ever since, with no happiness to bring them back to at least the dull grey that they once were. Nor my father or mother has been the same since that visit. I can still hear their shouts from late one night, the shouts that sent Aden crying into my room, where I let him stay while I rubbed his back to ease his sobs, and told him that everything was going to be okay.
Today is an important day. President Galilee is making a very critical announcement that everyone must attend. What could be so big that we had to travel to the square to watch a big screen, I don't know, but I have a feeling that it has something to do about the President's visit, earlier this month.
My mother has made me dress up in a skirt that has been tucked inside her closet since her days a victor, or so she tells me. The fabric is almost unbearable, made of layer and layers of scratchy fabric which my mother calls tulle. I can't see how she could stand it, wearing this itchy thing for hours at a time.
Aden bolts down the stair, wearing his normal "special occasion" get up: tawny colored pants and a pale blue shirt, which he worn maybe once or twice in the past two years. His shirt was tucked in, but has become un-tucked in the front in his rampage down the stairs. "Why do I have to wear this?" he asks mother in a confused voice. She gets down on her knees and fixes his shirt, and then looks into his eyes, "Because I say you have to," she says. Aden wrinkles his nose in disgust, "But I don't like it!"
"I know you don't," She says, now straightening his tiny collar. My father walks down the stair wearing a fresh white shirt and beige pants. He looks at mother and she shakes her head, "Let's go."
How was that? Did you like it? Plz tell me what you thought in the comments. All you have to do is write, good story, awesome story, horrible story (hopefully no one puts that lol) or something like that. Thx again!
~luvkatnisseverdeen