Disclaimer: I don't own the hunger games. Just a obsessive 13-year-old here.
For the rest of the day, Lian keeps on trying to talk to me. It continues for the rest of the week. I have to rush out of school before anyone can notice that I'm gone already. Every time I walk in the hallways to my next class, I get bizarre looks from everybody. But that's not the worst. I'm surrounded by whispers, whispers that suggest that I'm this, and that I'm that, and that my outfit makes me look fat, that I have uneven fingernails, that I'm…
I just can't stand it.
So when the weekend finally rolls around, I'm in the woods full-time. If not, I've locked myself in my room painting white roses with whispers of red on the edge of the petals. It's ironic that I was names after not only my deceased aunt, but also after President Coriolanus Snow. Mom and Dad decided that remembering the past would somehow make their future brighter, but I have no idea how. And the funny thing is, that Snow's signature flower is a single, white rose. President Snow, the one who wore roses so the smell of blood surrounding him wouldn't be overwhelming. President Snow, the one who sent out 24 kids every year, just so the panem et circuses would stay in order. President Snow, the one who tried to extinguish my mother, and tortured my father. He's sick.
…
On Sunday, after Dad coaxed me out of my room (He has a better way with words than my mother does. If she ever tried to coax me out of the room, it would just end up me still sitting on my bed and her sitting in front of my door. I got my stubbornness from her.), Finn and I were sitting in front of Mom, who was on the verge of tears. When I was just about to ask her what's wrong, she burst out : "I'm leaving!"
"What?" Finn and I asked in unison. She's leaving? This doesn't have to do anything with the freedom-fighters on Monday, right? I was wrong.
"On Monday, some freedom-fighters came over to inform me about something. President Paylor was recently murdered by Snow's grandson," Snow has a grandson? "Yes, he has a grandson. He was a little weird in his earlier years and was hidden from the cameras for his whole life. His name is Tyson Snow. And he is very dangerous." No duh. "So district 13 wants me to go back and be their Mockingjay. So, I have to leave you." she is bawling like a baby by now.
"No. This isn't real. It's just an April fool's joke." I say. But I'm just kidding with myself. It's not even close to April, and Mom rarely cries. And when she does, it's only a few tears, and not a whole meltdown. Meanwhile, Finn is frozen in place.
"Nooo." he whispers to himself. His grey eves look down to his hands, which are fidgeting like crazy.
"Yeah, Finn. It's the real deal." Dad says as he steps over to Mom to try and cheer her up. After 10 minutes of just sitting there and looking at my family, I recede back to my room and sketch mockingjays. And endless number of mockingjay sketches litter my room by the time Dad calls me for dinner. He made Mom's favorite. Yet, dinner is once again very quiet and awkward.
So since I didn'tupdate for a whole week, I tried to write a long chapter. Ideas for this just comes to me in tiny and fast bursts, not in looooong, slow pulses, or something like that. Thanks for reading my fanfic! And maybe, just maybe, I'll update my usual fast little burst chapters. : )