Luke "Daisy" Culvious, District 9 Female- Ripple237
Blade Blade Blade Blade Blade Blade no no stop YOU'RE NAME IS LUKE. NO YES you bitch, blood whisper whirl death sling blood splatter headstone scream death outcast whisper.
Licks.
Sun.
Morning.
Blade.
LUKE.
"NO, my name is Daisy." I awake from the endless night. Dandy is licking my face.
"I'm sorry if I scared you, Dandy." The German Sheppard just curls around me, like a shield.
LUKE.
LUKE.
LUKE...
The voice in my head dies.
"Thank you Dandy." I whisper to her.
Whispers.
Whispers.
"No, I have to continue." I stand up and approach the yellow, sickly paper. I begin to write. Most of my writings are on the walls, but now I use paper. I'm not sure where I got it, but it looks similar to dead skin. I stole pencils from a shop a while ago, most are broken.
Blade Blade Blade Blade Blade Blade no no stop YOUR NAME IS LUKE. NO YES, blood whisper whirl death sling blood splatter headstone scream death outcast whisper.
I gasp at my writing.
"Dandy, help me." She comes over and licks my hand. I begin to write again.
My name is Daisy. Dandy is my only friend. I live in a shack. I like axes. Blood. Blade. Blood. Blood. Pools of blood.
Dandy rests her head on my leg.
I am alone. My father made me a man. I killed him.
My fingers itch. I put down the pencil. People have whispered about me, called me "The Blade." Why? Because they think I killed my father. I did. I killed my father. I was not found guilty. I chopped his head off, but not before I cut off all his limbs. Then I cut myself. I tried to get the hair he would stitch to me off. I only cut skin.
I reach for my axe. Dandy picks it up and carry it out of my reach.
"Good girl." I say.
Ok, I'm in control now. I look at the mess of the paper on the floor. Every morning I write to get the thoughts out of my head and stay clear. Dandy helps. She was being beaten by boys when I found her. The boys ran way.
Boys.
Father wanted me to be a boy.
I hate boys.
I begin to laugh hysterically.
"LETS FIND SOME BOYS AND MUTILATE THEM. YES, THAT WILL BE LOTS OF FUN."
No, go away my name is Daisy.
Or is it Luke.
No.
It is. And you are a boy. With that nasty stitched on facial hair.
No.
The grey room appears before me. It always does. I start to cry.
"Please just go away!" I scream.
My father's body materializes in front of me. His limbs burst off, and his head turns all the way around to face me. His eyes are white.
"Join me, Daisy. Your flower will die!"
"No please!"
"I am Luke."
"No! You are dead!" I scream.
He lunges towards me and bites my throat.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH."
I wake up on the floor of the shack. Dandy is whimpering in the corner.
"Oh sweetie, I'm so sorry! It got control again."
My father, and the name he gave me, Luke, have merged together to form my demon. He always wanted a boy. And he would have one. He made me pee while standing up. He made me dress in rooms with other boys. He stitched hair onto me. Cut my hair. Unspeakable things. When he was drunk he would rape me, and then shove me into walls and throw me in the well outside. The Peacekeepers would get me, but not before the people threw things at me. When I got out, the Peacekeepers would beat and rape me. Then my dad would beat me for having sex with a man, because I was "a man."
I curl up. It is the Reaping after all. Another time for people to laugh at me, whisper about me, see my rags. I just tolerate it. It's the best I can do. I flip out once I reach my shack. Of course, Dandy hides, that smart dog. I'm always afraid I will kill her by accident, or the citizens will. I have a few more years of going to the Reaping. But what's next? What will my life become? I go over to Dandy, and cuddle with her. She is all I have left.
If my mother was still here, things would be different. I think. She died as I was born. That only added to the monster that my father became. I heard people say he was nice once. Still, they don't like the way he was killed. And I did it. I feel so broken. I want to be normal, but I lost it, and now a demon with my father's face and my birth name haunt me. I've wanted to kill myself, but Dandy always stops me. I was desperate for something, anything. I was insane, and I guess I still am.
The day I brought Dandy home, and I was about to stab myself, Dandy brought me a Daisy. Since then, I've called myself that. Unfortunately for me, no one else calls me that. Everyone at school, whispers behind my back. Even the little kids, who just don't understand, but just copy everyone else.
One day, I was walking home and 5 boys attacked me. They bashed stones at me. I had my axe up my sleeve though. I watched them cry, and I laughed. After I had calmed down, I was disgusted with myself. I attempted suicide again. Dandy stopped me again. Sometimes I wonder if she is an angel, sent to protect me from the demon inside me. Whatever it is, this demon is breaking me.
I've always been skilled with axes. One day I tried to use them, and I was a natural. Is this talent my demon egging me on? I don't know anymore. But, if I get sent into the Games, I'm scared for the tributes, because Luke will take over. I know it. I can't go into the Games. If I do, the fragments left inside me will shatter.
The Reaping approaches. I can't go. I just can't. I won't be chosen. It's impossible. A horrible thought strikes me. What if Luke makes me volunteer? It could be the end of everything. And Dandy will die. The people will kill her. I'm sure.
"Dandy, come here." I say. She comes over wagging her tail.
"Sweetie, I love you so much. You're the only thing keeping me going. I promise I'll be home soon."
I hug her, and she puts her head on my shoulder.
"I love sweetie." The tears come.
"I'll see you soon, my angel."
She looks after me as I exit the shack.
I can't look back.
The walk to the Square always seems like the hardest. The feeling that you get is awful. You know you have to go, and you want to get it over with, but you have to walk. You have to walk all the way to the Town Square. I wish Dandy could walk with me, but they will only take her away from me.
People walk on either side of the street. I walk in the middle, so naturally, they avoid me. I can already hear their whispers.
Whispers.
I shake my head to clear it. The whispers are growing louder.
"She's shaking her head again."
"What a freak."
"We should just kill her."
"Or we can hope she is reaped."
These people are terrible. Don't they know they are just making it worse? Of course not. I can already feel…
I hunch my back, and let out a cry. The people start to whisper again. Some take off down the street.
Oh, they are not going anywhere. I'm going to cut their arms off, then their legs, and slowly cut and carve their bodies into something worth looking at.
"NO!" I yell.
"BLADE! JUST GO BACK TO YOUR HOLE AND DIE!" a boy shouts. My fingers twitch.
"No." I whimper.
Yes.
I run like a bullet over to the boy.
LETS'S MAKE THIS ASSHOLE SUFFER!
Just as I tackle him, a Peacekeeper grabs me.
"This is Reaping Day! That will be 10 lashes." He says. A grin lights his face.
"I'll make it 25. It won't hurt. Much."
HE DIES NOW!
I regain control at a very fortunate time.
"Yes sir, sorry sir."
"Quit you're yapping and go!" he shouts.
I rush over to identification and get into the 16 year-old's section. The Reaping is about to begin.
The escort walks onstage, and I am disgusted again. He calls himself Helier Wen, and his hair and everything is atrocious. I look away in disgust. I block him, and everything else out, until I hear him utter those words. I snap to attention. He has just reached into the girl's reaping bowl. My dad tried to get my name in the boys, but they didn't allow him. He was furious, and raged for months.
Wen pulls out a name and reads it into the microphone. It won't be me. I'll see Dandy again soon.
"Luke Culvious!" he says. Dammit. I start to walk up.
My poor Dandy. I have to get home to her.
Sure, sure, but first we get to kill 23 kids! Oh I'm so excited.
No, not now, please not now. I begin to shake and twitch, hunching over. The crowd is whispering again. I shake harder.
"Go to hell, Blade!" Someone from the crowd shouts.
I reach the stairs and stand there. Trying to keep it inside. The boy, Troy Nooly, stands next to me in no time. Everything is a buzz. Wen looks at us expectantly. It must be time to shake.
Ok, we'll shake, but let's kill this bitch first!
I reach for Wen's throat. Just as he starts to panic, Troy grabs my hand, and shakes it. I am grateful for his help, but I'm afraid to say anything. I might say something I would regret.
Goodbye Dandy. I promise I will get home.
Oh not yet, we have some very nice slaughtering to do first.
Troy Nooly, District 9 Male-
"What if it's me?"
"It's not gonna be you."
The straw rustles as he props himself up on his elbow.
"But what if it is? I may look big and strong, but you know on the inside I am not a fighter. I wouldn't stand a chance against the Careers!"
I have never seen Alixander this agitated. Even in the dim light of the lantern I can see his wide frame is shaking and his eyes are wide open. I grab a hold of his shoulders, so strong from working in the fields, and gently turn him so he has to look at me.
"It won't be you, I promise. Don't ask me how I know, I've just... got a good feeling this time."
"For real?"
"For real."
I kiss him, and feel his tense muscles start to relax. But then he pulls away again.
"But it's going to be someone."
"Maybe it's your asshole of a brother this time," I joke.
"Heh. No, I'm not that lucky. And it wouldn't matter, he's strong as a bull, and just as stubborn. He would go ahead and win the Games, just so he can go on beating me," he says bitterly, and involuntarily rubs the place on his arm where a bruise has appeared only today.
I know he is right. Bant is huge, a lot larger than Alix and maybe four times my weight. He's also eighteen, which means this year is the last time he will be in the reaping pool. Alix and I still have three more years to go.
I couldn't imagine a life without him. Something clenches painfully in my chest when I think of what would happen if Alix's name really was pulled from that glass ball. He is everything to me. Maybe I would even volunteer…
"Please don't look so gloomy. Let's not talk about the reaping anymore, okay? We've only got a few hours left until dawn."
I nod in agreement, and pull him close to me. The softness of the straw and the warmth emanating from his body make me realize how tired I am, and I begin to drift off into sleep.
"I love you, Troy," he whispers.
"Love you too," I mumble into his hair.
When I wake again, the early light of dawn is already beginning to seep in through the cracks in the old barn's walls. The lantern is almost out of oil, but the wick is still fighting to keep its flame going. Brave little wick. As I watch, the flame finally goes out, leaving behind only a thin line of smoke.
Time to leave. I shake Alix awake, and we share one last sweet kiss.
The first rays of Reaping Day are creeping across the endless wheat fields as we sneak back into our homes.
"One of these days you are going to tell me who you are staying out all night for."
I had made every effort to be quiet as I snuck inside, but she caught me anyway. She is standing in the doorway to the kitchen. She's not angry, just looking at me with that intense gaze of hers. She pulls her bathrobe tight around herself.
The living room is a mess of colorful fabric, ribbons, and flowers. It looks like she has been up all night, sewing my and my sisters' costumes for the harvest dance. The rest of the house is still asleep, even the baby is snoozing peacefully on a pile of rags on the couch.
"Mom, what are you doing, the dance is still a couple of months away."
"Oh honey, you know I never sleep the night before the Reaping. I've given up on that years ago. When you're a child you may be scared half out of your mind, but once you have children of your own, it's so much worse..."
Her voice sounds thick, and I see there are deep shadows under her eyes. Six children are a lot to worry about. And soon, grandchildren. Thankfully, so far our family has always been spared. She smiles at me, but it's a little sad.
"Well, at least your father is always too tired from work to lose any sleep over this. I don't know how he does it anyway, two jobs and all. Help me make breakfast?"
Mom puts on a pot of coffee and starts preparing some cupcakes we will eat while we watch an old movie and wait for the ceremony to begin, and I cook the oatmeal and set the table. We work in silence. I am glad she didn't pressure me to tell her who my boyfriend is. I vow to tell her one of these days, but for now I need to keep it a secret for his sake.
The twins are the first to join us. I hear a patter of footsteps and all of a sudden the kitchen is filled with long, flowing hair and giggles. Their chattering wakes up the baby, but they are too busy braiding each others' hair to bother with the little one. Thankfully by now my second-youngest sister, Kaya, has come downstairs as well and picks her up right away. Kaya is almost fourteen now, and only a couple of inches shorter than me. She and I are very similar in appearance; we both have the same slender build, honey-colored skin, and almond eyes, while my other sisters have roundish eyes and lighter skin, like my father. Kaya is also the only one who comes close to my talent as a dancer, in fact if she keeps on working as hard as she does I think she will surpass me some day. But where I put my whole heart into it, dance for the pure enjoyment of it, she takes it totally seriously, and is always aiming for nothing less than perfection.
I love when our little kitchen is noisy and crowded like this, but it still feels weird to me to not have Tanaya around, my oldest sister who moved out and into her own place with her husband six months ago. We will see them both at the Reaping of course; everyone in District 9 is going to be there.
The Town Square is crammed with hundreds of people, but nobody says a word. Even my irrepressible twin sisters have gone silent for once. Kaya is standing a few rows farther back with her back completely straight, her head held high. Our parents are not far away, looking on with solemn faces. I also have spied Tayana in the crowd to my left with her husband, covering her rounded belly with her hands as if to shield the unborn child from the danger to come.
The mayor and the previous Victors from District 9 (only two of them are still alive) have already taken their places on the stage, but the escort is still missing. I risk a quick look at Alix. He is standing a little ways to my right, surrounded by some boys he often hangs out with at school. He looks so pale, and my heart goes out to him. I wish so hard I could be closer to him, to at least hold his hand. But his family would throw him out if they knew, or worse. I see his brother standing with the oldest boys way up front. Their parents must be here too, in the crowd somewhere.
Finally Helier Wen arrives, the escort from the Capitol. He looks flustered and keeps rubbing his nose. The weird apple-green lump of hair on his head is shaped like a nest, and it reminds me of a strange and nervous bird. His face is very pale, and his eyes are so cold and devoid of color they look like they are made of glass. His skinny legs are sticking in plateaued shoes, but he still is so short he has to pull the microphone down to him.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the Reaping ceremony of the 97th annual Hunger Games."
Even his voice is thin and airy, like it might fly away any moment. His gaze sweeps the crowd indifferently as the movie about the two rebellions and the history of the Hunger Games plays on the big screen behind him. It is followed by a long moment of silence, until the mayor clears his throat loudly, reminding Wen he has a job to do.
"Well, let us begin. May the odds be ever in your favor."
He says it in such a flat tone of voice I want to slap him. Our very lives are at stake here, and he's acting like this is all very boring to him. Slowly he walks over to the bowl with the girls' names and pulls out a slip of paper from the very top. It takes him several seconds of awkward fumbling to unfold the paper, and then he finally reads out the name.
"Luke Culvious."
I breathe a sigh of relief. It's not one of my sisters, thank heavens. Tonight we will celebrate, all of us together.
Now someone is pushing forward through the crowd. I see a head covered with thick dark hair and a face that's… covered with more dark hair. Now I remember where I have heard that name. That girl is an outcast, orphaned, living in the streets, fighting to survive. People tell lots of stories about her; some are contradictory, but none of them are nice. As she slowly but steadily shuffles to the front, there are jeers and catcalls from the crowd, and somebody cries out, "Go to hell, Blade!"
Everybody, the mayor, the mentors, especially the escort, seem to shy away from her when she comes onto the stage. She just stands there, wordlessly, staring at us with eyes that are hidden behind a thick veil of hair. Wen casts nervous glances at her as he asks for any volunteers. There are none, not surprisingly.
Now Wen, visibly in a hurry to get the ceremony over with, proceeds to the other glass container. All the boys around me tense even more as Wen reaches into the bowl. I look over at Alix once more, and see that he and his buddies have gathered together and have put their arms around each others shoulders like a sports team prepping for an important game. For a split second he meets my gaze, then looks back toward the stage. I keep staring straight at him, willing him to look at me, so I could at least communicate with him with my eyes. But he stays still as a statue. I see the arms on his shoulder tighten as a rustle of paper echoes through the speakers.
"Troy Nooly."
Just for a moment I wonder why somebody called my name. A heartbeat later the realization catches up with me and my stomach drops right out of my body. I was right, after all. It's not Alix. It's me. I've been reaped.
My feet start to move on their own, carrying me toward the stage. I am used to having everyone's eyes on me, but this is very different. Instead of dancing for the enjoyment of my audience, I will soon be bleeding for the Capitol's entertainment. My knees shake a little as I ascend the steps to the podium. The escort gives me a very weak smile and quickly herds me to the front of the stage.
"Are there any volunteers?"
Out of the corner of my eye, I see someone in the crowd start to move It's Alix, and he is still not looking at me, his eyes are fixed straight ahead. Oh no. He has shaken off his surprised friends' arms and is walking forward stubbornly. Now he is almost at the edge of the roped area. He opens his mouth.
"I vo-"
His older brother grabs Alix from behind and yanks him back roughly, one hand clamped over his mouth like a vice, smothering his words. Alix struggles against his brother's grip, but Brant is way too strong for him. As he drags him backwards into the crowd, Brant shoots me a murderous look. And I don't even mind; instead I will be forever grateful to him. For he just saved his brother's life, and we both know it.
Suddenly I feel very, very queasy. One of the mentors, Omri Rice, quickly places a steadying hand on my shoulder, which makes me feel a little better. I've never had a big brother, only sisters, but I imagine this is what it must be like.
The ceremony is almost over now. The escort motions for Luke to come join us at the front of the stage so the two of us can shake hands. I can tell Wen is very nervous, and I too find this girl's presence strangely unsettling.
"Hi," I say. She doesn't respond, just continues to stare at me. Yeah, she is creepy as hell. I don't even want to imagine what it would be like having to face her in battle.
Suddenly, instead of extending her hand to me, her arms reach for Wen as if going for his throat, and the little man shrinks back with a frightened little squeak. I am caught off guard, I don't know what else to do, so I quickly grab a hold of both of her hands and sort of shake them both at the same time. It must look really awkward to the audience, but I guess that is still better than a tribute attacking her escort. I think everyone is relieved when the anthem starts to play, signaling the end of the Reaping ceremony.
I am barely in the room when my sisters burst through the door, closely followed by my parents and my brother-in-law. Kaya and the twins slam into me and hug me so hard it hurts, and a moment later Tayana, Mom, and Dad join in until we're just a big warm hunk of loving family. Everyone is crying, and I too have to fight back tears.
"They can't do this! They just can't!" Kaya sobs into my shoulder. I hug her even harder.
"Hush, my dear, you know they can," my mother says, quietly. "All these years, so many children... We've always known this could happen."
She takes a deep breath and wipes her eyes. "But now's not the time to be angry. We only have a few minutes to say goodbye. Everyone, let's try to be brave for your brother's sake, okay?"
I reluctantly pull out of their embrace, brushing away my own tears, but seeing all those miserable faces looking at me somehow makes this even worse than it already is. Even the baby is sensing something is awfully wrong and getting fretful.
Cora makes an effort to cheer me up.
"Hey, at least you are going to get some professional training now. Maybe you'll learn to use a sword and find you're really good at it?"
Ana, her twin, chips in immediately to contradict her.
"Don't be stupid, Troy can't fight! But he's nice and good-looking, so he'll find lots of allies, and sponsors, and-"
"No, you're both wrong!" Kaya interrupts. "Troy is not going to master the sword in a week. And being nice makes you look weak. Making allies is silly anyway. Sooner or later they will have to kill you or you have to kill them. But he does have a chance, because he's quick, and he's agile. He should run away and hide, like climbing a tree or something."
I am deeply touched by their confidence. I wish so badly I could share it.
Suddenly there is a commotion outside. My dad goes to the door to check what is going on, and through the gap I glimpse Alix, screaming and struggling with the guards who are refusing to let him in. Dad, looks at me, confused, then back at Alix.
"Troy, who is this?"
"Alix! Let him in, please let him in!"
My hearts feels like it's being torn apart when I see the pure desperation on his face, as well as the fresh bruise that is blackening his eye. It takes all my self-control not to try to force my way through to him. Now Dad is talking to the guards in that calm yet authoritative teacher's voice of his. They are still pretty young and I think he recognized a couple of his former students. Grudgingly, the peacekeepers finally allow Alix to pass, after threatening to arrest him should he give them any more trouble. He flies into my arms, and I kiss him, hard, on the mouth, answering any questions my family may have had up until now. I hadn't realized how scared I was that they would take me away before I got a chance to see him again one last time. My mom shoos everyone away, to give us just a little privacy.
"I can't lose you, I just can't," he rasps. "If something happens to you, I don't know what I'll do..."
His shoulders are beginning to shake. I want to hug him again, but he won't let me.
"Promise me you'll try."
"What?"
"Promise me that you'll try to win. That you'll do anything it takes. Anything. For me."
"I, I don't think I can-"
"Promise me!"
"I promise," I whisper. And I mean it. At that moment, I know I'd do anything for him. I hold on to this determination and store it deep inside of me. I know I'll be needing it soon enough.
"This is for you. I wanted to give it to you for your birthday."
From his pocket he pulls a thin golden chain with a pendant, carved from dark wood and shaped like a flower. A chrysanthemum.
He slips the chain over my head.
"Thank you."
I gently touch his cheek.
"What did your folks do to you?"
His face goes all hard, and he looks away.
"I'm never going back there," he says, fiercely.
"But where are you going to live?"
"It doesn't matter. Don't worry. I'll be okay."
His flat voice tells me he is anything but. I want to say so many more things to him, but at that moment the door opens abruptly and the guards come in to collect me. My parents protest that the time is not up, and my younger sisters start to cry again loudly. But the uniforms won't listen anymore, they just grab me by the arms and drag me towards the exit.
"Take care of him, will you?" I call over my shoulder. I know it's a lot to ask, taking in another mouth to feed, but so far we've always managed to get by, with just a few tesserae. And now that I will be gone, there will be a spare bedroom…
Mom and Dad both nod solemnly. Then I am through the door, and I can't see them anymore. My sisters' wailing accompanies me all the way down the hallway and the staircase leading directly to the underground train station. I didn't even get to really say goodbye.
Of course, this was just the easy part. The really hard part hasn't even begun yet.