Hey there, lovelies! I am so beyond sorry that this took me so long to get up. My summer was absolutely crazy with work and other things. Caleb was in Australia, so I was also in charge of writing Thunder and Lightning. But I haven't given up on this story and I am excited to get back into it!
But I don't understand how you can keep me in chains
And every waking hour,
I feel your taking power From me and I can't leave
Myrrh Sensin, 12
District Six Female
People are always talking, it seems that no matter what the situation is, someone always has something to say. I like listening to all of the different opinions that float around in the district. People are so diverse and interesting. If you just take a moment to be still and silent, there is no telling what you might learn.
When people look at me, they see a small and defenseless child, but they don't know me. I have been small my whole life but the way I look at things, if your brain is bigger than average, your physical size has to be smaller. One person can't have everything, that just wouldn't be fair. I have always preferred keeping my thoughts to myself. I have big opinions for a girl my age, but I choose to keep them in my head where they belong.
"You know, Jackson Sensin. The one with the mysterious daughter that never speaks," A woman with stringy brown hair says, as I pass by her fruit stand. I duck behind the stand, tucking my long black hair behind my ears in order for me to hear better.
"Oh yes, she is a strange one that child. I don't know if I have ever heard her speak," says the other woman, tossing green apples into a sack.
"Oh, she speaks, just not very often. When she does, though, it's strange. She is only twelve but she has the wisdom of someone much much older. It's intimidating," says the brown haired woman, causing me to chuckle and give up my hiding place. The two women turn and look in my direction, shock coming over their faces.
"Oh, Myrrh! How are you darling?" She asks me, walking towards with me with outstretched arms. She embraces me into a tight hug, despite the fact that I can count on one hand a number of times that I have talked to this woman.
"Very well, Thank you," I say, nodding and sending her a slight smile. I nod at the woman standing to the left of her and continue on my way.
"Such a sweet girl," one of the ladies says as I walk away.
I observe all the people around me until I get to the stand where I sell a few of my crops for extra money for my family.
"Hey, Myrrh! How are you doing?" Mr. Malachi asks me, as I set the small sack of vegetables down.
"I'm great, Sir! How are you?" I ask him, giggling with a huge grin on my face.
"Good now, thanks to you!" He exclaims, taking the vegetables and passing me a few coins.
"I'm glad to hear that, Mr. Malachi," I say, still giggling at his excitement and turning around and leaving just as quickly as I came.
Growing up, it was just me and my parents. They didn't want to have any more kids for the fear of not being able to provide for them. Because of this, I spent a lot of time on my own as a child. I had plenty of time to think and come up with ideas in my head. I had time to learn the great concepts of life and decide who I wanted to be from an early age. Spending so much time alone, though, eventually made it difficult for me to verbally express my feelings, so I started to keep to myself more and more with each passing day.
I love smiling and laughing and I love being around people that make me feel good. In a world like ours, though, you need to be cautious. People are selfish and don't have good intentions a lot of the time. If you keep everything about your live private, you will never run into any issues. I like to people watch because of this, I can get a feel for what the people in the surrounding area are about.
I have amazing parents with great shoulders on their heads, they have raised me to respect everyone and be polite while being cautious and judgemental at the same time. It is something that I value very much. The traits that my parents have instilled in me have made it very easy to make friends. I have a small group of friends, and everyone knows me as the polite one. They say I am wise beyond my years and that I am like the mom our group. That makes me giggle because I am only twelve years old after all.
A few years ago, my dad broke his leg and he wasn't able to work anymore. Food started getting scarce and sometimes there was none at all. My parents had done way too much for me. I wasn't going to let my family starve, so I took matters into my own hands. I don't trust people who offered us food because there is always an ulterior motive. I sold my favorite dress and bought some potatoes with the money that I had made. I planted the potatoes in our garden to the best of my ability and watched them grow and grow.
My mom was so thankful that I helped provide for our family, but she felt bad that it had to come to that.
I don't need help surviving, I can do that on my own. I have had enough time to think about the different ways that life could throw curve balls at me. It can try, but I will see them coming.
In a place like this one, you have yourself to count on and that's pretty much it. People will try to walk all over you because you are quiet, young or small, but if you know who you are and if you know what it takes to survive in the life that you are given, then you don't need anything else. Just always be watching.
That's just the way it is
Some things will never change
That's just the way it is
Stefan Porter, 15
District Six male
The thrill of doing something that could possibly get you in trouble with the law is up there with one of the best feelings ever. You never know if or when you are going to get caught and even if you do, what is really the worst that could happen?
"Stefan, come on! Move faster, boy!" Friedman says, gripping my arm and dragging me towards the train.
"I'm coming, relax!" I yell towards him, mostly playing. I tug my arm out of his grip and keep up with his long strides on my own.
"Don't tell me to relax young man, we could get busted!" He shouts over the loud roar of the train tracks as we get closer to the train station.
"What is the worst that could happen, it's not a big deal," I say softly, rolling my eyes.
"Getting executed isn't a big deal? We already have it hard enough son, let's not add more to our plates," he grumbles, coming to a complete stop at the back end of one of the trains that transports cargo.
For as long as I can remember, Friedman and I have been train hopping. There isn't much to do when you are out on the streets but the views from the back of the trains are incredible. I know it makes Friedman happy, so I am happy to tag along on these adventures.
"Hurry up, get up there weakling," he says, erupting into a deep belly laugh at his own joke.
I roll my eyes and pull myself up on the back of the train. I don't eat a lot, but I am by no means a weakling. Friedman just likes to pick fun at me.
Friedman does the best he can to take care of me, he always has. He is the only person that I have ever known that has been remotely close to being family. The way he tells it, he was a lonely homeless man roaming the streets of District Six. He was wandering the streets late one night when he heard a baby crying in one of the broken and rusty windowsills of one of the buildings he passed every night.
He walked up to the window and saw me laying in there, wrapped up tightly in a faded green blanket. He says that he knew the moment he laid eyes on me that he had to take me and raise me to the best of his ability on his own. He did everything that he could to keep me healthy and alive while living on the streets. If that meant that some nights he wouldn't get to eat, so be it.
Now that I am fifteen, I find myself wondering about my parents and what they were like. I don't miss them, though. I don't think that it is possible to miss someone that you never knew. They didn't care to know me, so I can't let myself get wrapped up in thinking about them. It's not even a big deal. You can't change it, so you can't worry about it.
"Are you ready to hop off?" Friedman looks in my direction, steadying his feet as he gets ready to jump.
"Let's do it!" I say, jumping from the back of the train and rolling into the soft patch of grass that catches me.
"Let's go eat," he says, wiping grass blades off the back of my shirt.
When we haven't eaten in awhile, we go and visit our good friend Orwan. He is a bartender at one of District Six's most well-known bars. When we walk in there, peoples eyes flock to us, almost as if they know we don't belong in there but we just don't give them a second thought. If Orwan is the bartender on duty, he tries his best to slip us food. Bar food is greasy and filling, So I really couldn't ask for more.
"How is life, young man?" Orwan asks, tipping a bottle of scotch into a glass and sliding it across the shiny glass counter to a man who probably shouldn't have any more to drink.
"It's been alright, nothing exciting," I say, shrugging my shoulders and sliding a french fry into my mouth.
"Nothing exciting? What about the reapings, those are getting pretty close," he says, looking at me with sympathy.
"Those aren't a big deal, they don't mean anything," I say, annoyed by the fact that people keep bringing this up to me.
"You know Stefan, one of these days you are going to have stop being so carefree about everything. It's going to come around and bite you in the ass one of these days," Orwan says, setting a glass down on the counter with more force than he probably intended.
I know he is frustrated with me, but I just let it roll off of my shoulders. I don't take many things to heart because you can't. No one else is living my life for me, so I will only worry about the things that I want to worry about.
"Well, I wish you the best of luck, friend," he says, sliding me another small pile of food and smiling at me before walking away and serving his regulars.
"You don't have anything to worry about, son. We're gonna be just fine," Friedman says, stealing a fry off of my plate.
We sit at the bar talking and eating greasy food until the stars come out and the lights go off.
I would like to run away from
Reflections of me in your eyes, oh please
Myrrh Sensin, 12
District Six Female
"Are you nervous for the reapings today?" My friend Candice asks with a smile plastered on her face.
Candice is the most upbeat person I know. I don't understand how someone can be so happy on a day like this. It's really perplexing.
"I wouldn't say nervous," I say slowly, being cautious about admitting my real feelings.
"It's kind of exciting if you look at it in a different light," she says, shoving a forkful of the potato scramble that my mother has prepared for breakfast. She doesn't do this often, but on a day like today, I think that she was just trying to take the edge off.
"Exciting how?" I ask her, keeping my eyes on my plate.
"Well, It's not every day that you get the chance to bring your district honor and respect, at least that is the way my daddy puts it," she says.
"There are plenty of other ways to earn respect and honor than by killing people," I state before excusing myself from the table and hurrying into the restroom.
I find that as soon as I have a moment to myself, the tears start rolling down my face. I quickly wipe them away because I find it preposterous to cry over things that you can't change. Every day, I listen to people tell me that I am wise beyond my years and that I seem way older than I am, but at the end of the day, I am still just a twelve-year-old girl. Twelve-year-old girls are allowed to cry and have it be okay, but not me.
I don't want people to know that I have doubts, I don't want them to know anything about me really, so I keep quiet and just watch.
When I have collected myself, I emerge from the restroom to find that Candice had hurried home to get ready for the reapings.
"I laid a dress out on your bed, Sweet Girl," my mom says softly from the kitchen.
I walk into my room and find the second nicest dress that I own laid neatly across the bed. The dress is black and sleek and my favorite pearl bracelet is set next to it. I slide into and run a brush through my long black hair before heading downstairs to join my parents.
Today could go both ways, but I'm hoping it goes my way. I've programmed myself to hope for the best but always prepare for the worst.
That is just the way you have to be in life.
Said hey, little boy, you can't go where the others go
'Cause you don't look like they do
Said hey, old man, how can you stand to think that way?
And did you really think about it before you made the rules?
Stefan Porter, 15
District Six male
"Are you ready for today?" Friedman asks me, searching for something in his bag.
"I don't know why everyone keeps asking me that, the hunger games aren't a big deal," I say, buttoning the only semi-decent shirt that I own.
"I should smack you silly, boy," he says.
"Can we just go?" I huff, walking in the direction of the reapings.
Friedman has insisted on coming with me to the reapings. He says that he has stuck with me for too long to just leave me now. I appreciate that but I will be home in just a few hours so I don't want him to take time out of his day to come and watch the boring event that the Capitol puts on every year.
"Fine, Let's go," He says, straightening my shirt and urging me to move faster.
When we arrive, people are already forming groups. The boys on one side and the girls on the other. The young kids are in the front and the older people are in the back. I find my rightful place with the fifteen-year-old boys and stand there. It takes them awhile to get started, but once they do everything moves pretty fast.
The escort walks out onto the stage wearing a long pink gown that is almost like a tutu. It has large chunks of something sparkly in it. Her hair is in big poofy brown curls and she has a tiara on her head. The makeup on her face makes her look almost doll like.
"Oh God, did someone order a fairy godmother?" I mumble under my breath and the boy next to me laughs loudly, causing us to get a look from the PeaceKeepers.
"Hello all, My name is Fauna and I would like to formally welcome you to the District Six reapings. The hunger games are something we should all be excited about, so hold your horses because we are about to get started," she says, slowly walking over the bowl with the names of the female tributes inside.
"Your female tribute for this years hunger games is… Myrrh Sensin!" she shouts.
A small girl with long black hair and a tiny figure from the twelve-year-old section slowly emerges from the group. She stands still for a moment, seemingly to try to get her knees to stop shaking before slowly walking towards the stage. When she turns around the face the crowd, silent tears are falling from her eyes. Her face is stone cold and when Fauna offers her the microphone she doesn't say anything.
"Well, looks like we have a woman of few words. Let's get on with the boys," she says, holding up her big dress and walking over the other side of the stage.
"Your male tribute this year is… Stefan Porter!" She shouts, overly eager into the microphone.
For the first time in my life, I am nervous. I get a feeling that I don't like in my stomach as I slowly walk to the stage. My back starts to get sweat and all of a sudden my palms are clammy. I walk to the stage and take my place next to Myrrh. Everything that the escort is saying sounds like mush in my ears.
The last thing I remember is making eye contact with Friedman as I'm being led away.
Hey, guys!
Do you even remember me?
Thank you so much to ElementalEvolution and PrinceOfCorinth for submitting these gems. I like them both a lot and I am excited to show y'all their growth throughout the story.
I also wanted to clear something up here. I'm not quitting Thunder and Lightning. I'll still be writing both stories, it just got a little stressful with college, work, and everything but I wouldn't quit anything. Caleb and I are excited about that story.
I am also really excited to finish this one, I forgot how much I love these tributes.
Expect more frequent updates.
What did you think of these two?
Question of the day: What is your favorite subject?
XOXO
Jenna