Ember ' s POV
Run. Don't look back. But it's hard to run when words are weighing you down. Bastard child, dirty little brat, he accused. Tears are forming in the corner of my eyes, freezing as they streak across my face. Piece of trash, just like your mother, worthless little bitch, he roared. The winter air bites at my exposed skin; frozen ground tearing at my bare feet, but this was all numb compared to the pain of his final words to me. Get out, your not mine so why should I care if you die out there?.
Suddenly I lurch forward, stumbling down the incline, yet all I could think about were the words. Your. Not. Mine. Why should I care if you die? The worse pain of it all was the fact that he said it with such little emotion, letting it out like he was breathing air. It was worse than all of his blows, and insults. It left me questioning everything.
I finally find the bottom of the hill, lying there in the soft snow, contemplating staying there and dying like he wanted me to. That's when I hear my name. Its a soft whisper, gently kissing my ears like a falling snowflake. I rise to find the source, wondering if I was going crazy when I hear it again. It is at this moment that I realize where I am.
No. Not here, anywhere but here. I try running, getting as far as I can from this place, but it is as if I'm nailed to the ground. I try struggling as mine workers pass by me, walking to their imminent death, in the middle of them is the face that has never left me all of these years. My name is still echoing, and I now know who is calling me. My mother's voice, like honey, is screaming my name.
They're now in the cage and I try warning them, but there is a weight on my chest, preventing me from crying out, much less breathe. My name is pounding through my head so much that it is has lost all meaning. Ember, Ember, Ember. I know it's my mother chanting my name, yet her face is un moving. I glance up and make eye contact with her, and her gaze paralyzes me. She mouths something incomprehensible as the gates begin to close. All I can do is stand here and cry, watching them being lowered. Seconds later, an explosion sends me flying into a white oblivion.
I wake up to piercing gray eyes staring down at me. Frannie, my brain registers. She looks at me a quivering lip, and sobs,"Did the monsters come again?" I look up at her, immediately feeling a wave of guilt overcome me. You have to be gentle with Frannie, she's several years older then me, but has the mind of a child. When she was about five, peacekeepers came and killed her parents while Frannie sat there, forced to watch. They left her there hugging her mother's mangled body. She was there alone, until her grandmother, Greasy Sae came and found her. She's been taking care of Frannie ever since.
"It's alright Frannie, the monsters are gone. I'm alright, they didn't hurt me, and they won't hurt you." I consol as my hand strokes her mangled blonde hair. Even though she's fifteen and I'm thirteen, we are often mistaken as each other. We have the same light build, we're about the same height, and have the same blonde hair.
The only difference is our eyes. She has grey seam eyes opposed to my hazel ones. It is her eyes that I notice when she looks up at me and replys,"The monsters will never be gone, but I'll be okay." In those storm cloud eyes I saw all the pain, evened out by her strength. I am telling the truth when I say Frannie is one of the strongest people I know.
She holds my gaze a little longer, the says,"Grandmama needs you." Then she stands up and walk into the only other room of the house. I soon follow, seeing Sae has already began cooking a pot of stew.
She sees me enter and gives me a smile that feels me with warmth. "Good your up, I need your help bringing this to the hob, these bones aren't what they used to be. But, first you need to eat, you're so thin, twigs would be jealous", she jokes. We eat, and are soon on our way down the dirt path in the very dim light. The stew sloshing providing the only noise in the late spring dawn.
We reach the rickety warehouse, nodding at the few early ones setting up booths. We head to ours, and I place the pot down on the old table then take Frannie into the back. I keep her preoccupied while Sae begins to ladle out bowls of stew, chunks of meat plopping into the bowls.
The soup makes me think of everything Sae has done for me. She took me in when I was nine, ever since the day I came to her, offering work for food. She's fed, clothed, and cared for a child that she didn't even know, for about four years. I don't know how I could ever repay her. It's hard to have enough for yourself in district twelve, much less yourself, a handicap, and an orphan.
Before I can ponder over it any longer, Sae called out,"Ember dear, I need your help for a second." I give Frannie a dirty piece of ribbon to play with and imerge from behind the ratty blanket, noticing several people eating at the counter.
"What do you need?" I ask noticing Sae standing near Ripper, the old, auburn - haired liquor maker.
"Ripper here needs someone to make a delivery, and I said you could."
"I'm a little limited", Ripper replied holding up her stump of an arm,"And I would get one of the kids running around here, but they all refuse this run. They're not as brave as you.", she winked.
"Why? Who is the delivery to?", I questioned, running through a list of people too drunk to get their own liquor.
They both glance at each other, hesitating a moment then in sync answer,"Haymitch Abernathy."
Hey guys, so if you didn't know, the top is Ember dreaming. It was sorta a flashback to when her 'father' kicked her out when she was nine, but it was also her dreaming of her mother's death. Her mother died in the same mine explosion as Katniss' and Gale ' s fathers. She was not actually there when it happened. I don't know when I'll post again, hopefully soon. Please review! I need your guys feedback to improve! Tell me what you like, what you dislike, or whatever you want! Thank you to all who read this, I hope you like the story.