A/N Yay! Another chapter! And I only took six days!
Anyway, here's a note on Animata from District Two. There are a lot of things that people got wrong (read: not showing something doesn't mean it doesn't exist), but the only one I want to address right now is that she is "bitter." There's a difference between being bitter and having strong opinions.
I sound so defensive… Sorry. It's my bad as the author for making things unclear.
I'm also going to start using the dividers; one of y'all said it looks cleaner. I've been meaning to do it, but I keep forgetting.
Here's District Three.
Render Axum, 17, District Three Male
I nail the thin board to the wall, covering the hole in the old, rotting boards. Someday, this wall will have to go, but I'll keep it as long as I can. There's no use spending extra money.
Besides, things will be better in a few years. Every single one of the recent government policies has been good for us, so I imagine that is President Romulus Snow keeps himself alive, we should all be fine. First, it was the raise of the minimum wage, and then it was the creation of more government jobs, such as cleaning the streets or waste management. Of course, no one likes those jobs, but they pay well enough for an unemployed person. Now there are rumors that they're ending the Hunger Games.
Someone knocks on the door.
"Come in," I call, tilting my head so I can hear better. My father steps into my room, and my entire body tenses up. "Dad."
"Hey," he says, slightly awkwardly, "I was thinking that you know, we should spend some time together. Make up for lost time?"
"Again?" It didn't go so well last time. Nothing bad happened, but we just sat there and stared at each other. It's not exactly an experience I want to relive.
"It didn't have to be a one-time thing."
"Umm…" What to say… what to say... "Like… what were you thinking, exactly?"
He stops and thinks about it for a bit.
"You know what," he says, "You're probably busy, so maybe another time."
He briskly walks out of the room and closes the door. I sigh. He can't expect me to just welcome him with open arms now that he has a job close to home. I saw him once a year for the first sixteen years of my life, and he expects me to act like nothing wrong ever happened? In my brain, I know that I shouldn't be so cold, but it's hard to be close to your dad when you barely know him. Even now, he's gone almost all day six out of seven days of the week, and he goes out on the seventh. Talk about a lot of bonding time.
I clean up my tools, but when I enter the living room, my dad looks up from his newspaper and stares at me. I stare at him. We both look away. If my mom were here, she'd try to get us to talk, but she's out of the house running errands. Maybe I'll take a walk. Admenta usually goes to her afternoon shift at this time of day; maybe I'll see her. Maybe I'll talk to her. Maybe she won't walk away this time.
I put on a thin jacket and leave the house. It's a little windy today, but now, trash isn't blowing everywhere because waste management came through yesterday. I walk briskly down the street. I hope I don't miss her today. I'll walk a little faster. I turn a corner into the slightly nicer part of town, where the houses are sturdier and the walls don't rot. As I pass a house with red brick steps, I notice that the upstairs light is still on. She must still be inside. I stop and squint, but I can't make out anything through the curtain.
Seriously, Render, that was stupid. What if someone comes out and sees you staring at the house? What'll they think? I jerk away from the house and continue walking.
After a few minutes, I turn around. I know she goes down this road. Maybe she's left her house. I quickly walk back and see that the light in the window is still on. Does she even work today?
Maybe I'll go home. I take a last look at the window just as the light disappears. She must be coming. I run back a few yards and pretend that I was just walking by. The door opens and Admenta steps out before closing the door and locking it. She turns to walk to work.
"Oh, hey," I call.
She turns to see who it is, but she turns back and doesn't reply.
I run to catch up to her. "Hey," I say, again. Was that awkward?
"What do you want?" she says, "I'm not falling for you, you know." She turns up her nose. "Some people are below me. Now get out of my way. I need to get to work."
She walks away quickly, and I let her go. There's no use chasing after her. It didn't work last time. But maybe it'll work this time.
Someone calls behinds me.
"Hey! Render!"
"What?" It's Cerulean, her brother.
He catches up to me. "Did she plow right through you again?"
I stare at the ground.
"That's a yes," he says, "Look, you need to let her go. She's a rude, ignorant b*tch, and you deserve better."
"Thanks for the sentiment," I say, "But I can't just let her go, can I?"
He plays with his fingers. "Well… this is a special case. She's intent on finding someone 'better' than you. And I know you hate giving up on anything, but listen to me. Just let her go and save yourself some heartbreak."
"It just doesn't feel right."
"I know it doesn't, but c'mon, there are hundreds of better girls out there. Don't waste your time on my sister."
I sigh. "But what's wrong with me? What is it about me that she doesn't like? Is it that I'm half-deaf?"
"No," he says, "It's nothing to do with you. She seems to think that only rich people are worth anything in this world."
I tap my foot, unsure of how to reply. There has to be some good in her, no one is completely bad.
"Well, thanks for the advice," I say.
"You're not convinced."
"No, I'm not, but thanks anyway."
He sighs. "You're so stubborn."
I just shrug.
Apple Kesari, 17, District Three Female
I screw another bolt onto the piece of metal that will become a refrigerator somewhere down the line. Then I do it again to the next one and the next one. It's not a fun job, but working at this assembly pays well with the new benefits. I've heard that they raised the prices for our goods in the Capitol; that means we get paid more. It also means that the Capitol isn't thinking about bombing us.
Bombs.
Pictures fill my mind of bombs falling, people screaming, buildings burning, and finally, my father facing the wall, held by Peacekeepers and shot, his blood splattering the wall.
Calm down, calm down, calm down. If I were at home, I'd look at my paintings to quiet myself, but at work, I don't have that option. I have to do it myself.
The Capitol isn't out to get us. The Capitol is generous to us. I repeat these sentences like a mantra, shutting the pictures out of my mind. I have nothing to fear. Since we're not resisting the Capitol, it's helping us. Just look at our raises. The number of homeless people has plummeted. If the Capitol were trying to destroy us, it wouldn't be helping us. They bombed us before, but that was because we rebelled. That should've been expected.
"Psst," someone whispers. Startled, I drop the bolt in my hand onto the conveyor belt. I scramble to get it back. "Hey, Apple." It's Leda, standing a yard or two to my left.
We're not allowed to talk at work. This might get us in trouble. I look at her and shush her. She rolls her eyes.
"Shh," I repeat.
"C'mon," she says, still whispering. "It'll be fine. It's too boring if we don't talk."
I screw another bolt and reply. "We'll get in trouble," I hiss.
"It's okay," she says. I hear Archie, working across from her, snicker. I go back to my job, ignoring her. Finally, Mr. Escalt, the supervisor for today, walks by, shutting Leda up.
After the end of our shift, Leda, Archie and I meet outside.
"What was that all about?" I say.
"I got bored," Leda replies.
"Bored?! That's not a reason to break the rules. If Ms. Scrift was the supervisor today, you'd be fined!"
"She wasn't here today," she says, "So it's okay."
"But the Capitol sees everything."
"Do you think it cares?"
I sigh. "Archie, tell her that what she did was stupid."
"It was stupid," he says, "It made it a little less boring, though."
"You too?" I say. "Fine, but next time, don't talk to me during work. I can't afford to get a pay cut."
We walk in silence for a few minutes.
"Sorry," Leda says, "I didn't mean to scare you."
"It's fine," I say. We've reached the bar where I work as a waitress after my shift at the factory. "I'll see you tomorrow."
I loop around to the back of the bar and enter through the back door. After quickly changing into the uniform, I begin taking orders in the dim-lit room. Most bars in Three are quite run down and dirty, but this place is a little higher class. This is usually where Peacekeepers, officials, and well-to-do people go for drinks, and I would never have gotten a job here if Archie hadn't pulled a few strings for me.
I put on a smile and go to the first table, where a group of men and women in tuxedos are sitting. They're definitely government, and if I had a guess, they just got off work and decided to go out to eat. Further conversation tells me that I'm not wrong; I'm sure I've seen them around before. I know everyone that comes here to some extent.
After a while, a man in Peacekeeper whites holding his helmet comes in and sits at a table in the corner. My body still involuntarily tenses up when I see his uniform, and I remind myself that he's not here to hurt anybody. He doesn't look familiar, though. He must be one of the new ones that were sent here two weeks ago. Usually, new Peacekeepers are sort of a wild card; you never know what they'll do to you. I've often seen them yelling at servers; the ones from District Two tend to be mean like that. Some from the Capitol are so picky about everything; they're a pain but they tip well. I take a deep breath and muster my courage. Here goes nothing.
"Hello," I say, "Welcome. I'm Apple, and I'll be your server."
He looks at the menu as well as the list of drinks before settling on a glass of hard cider and a basket of fried potatoes. Whew. That wasn't so bad. He seems okay.
Minutes later, when I bring him his food, I find him staring at the wall.
"Thanks," he says. That's rare for new Peacekeepers. Most of them are either too proud or too lost in this place. He seems to be Capitol, but his accent is really light.
"Are you new in District Three?" I ask. I hope he doesn't mind. I don't think he will.
"Huh?" he says, "Pardon me. What did you say?"
"I… just wanted to know if you were new here."
"Oh, yes," he says.
"Are you from the Capitol?" I ask.
"Yes," he says, "And no. I'm from the Capitol, but my family was originally from here."
"Really?" I say. I didn't know that these people existed in the Capitol. I always assumed that everyone there was always from there.
"Yes," he says, smiling for the first time, "I'm sorry, I'm a little tense. I'm Velleius."
"Nice to meet you," I say, "If you need anything while you're still here, just wave me over."
I move on. He seems like a father. I don't think I've ever thought of Capitolites that way.
After a few hours, I finally get to go home. As I walk up the creaky, wooden steps to my room upstairs, I can barely keep my eyes open. I flick the light switch, turning on the single light bulb. My paintings cover the wall. Green meadows run across the wooden walls, and an unmoving orchard sits in the corner. Looking at all of it calms me down, reminding me that the Capitol isn't out to get me. I lay down on my bed and close my eyes.
I hope no one rebels.
Questions:
1. What do you think of Render? Keep in mind that I haven't revealed everything about all the characters. Do you like him? How do you think he'll be developed?
2. What about Apple? Do you like her? How does her personality compare to standard District Three tributes? What about other tributes in general?
3. Predictions?
4. Did you notice my hints to the overall plot in this chapter?
5. Do y'all remember Velleius? It's only been a few chapters.
A/N We need 12 more reviews to reach 100 reviews! C'mon guys! So pumped!
Also, District Four is next! Get ready to get wet! You know, because it's fishin, and fishing means water...
...that was cheesy. Or should I say, "fishy." :) Do I sound hyper at all?
See y'all,
~Joseph