Okay, so these first three chapters are like a preview. I'm usually busy so I'll try to update by midnight on Sunday. I might be able to update before then, but I highly doubt I'll have time.
I'm standing in a fancy room, leaning against the black leather sofa because my stomach has started to hurt again and if I sit down, I may never hoist myself up again. The doors have only been shut for a second when they burst open again, and Ian comes hurtling in.
His dress shirt has come untucked and his tie is loose but he's still the best sight I could imagine right now. He barrels into me and hugs me hard, as if he's afraid to let go. I give a little grunt that I'm not sure is from surprise or because he hit my bruise.
Even though my stomach hurts, I hug him as tightly as I can. I can feel his tears on my shoulder and I have to force myself not to start bawling. I shove my face into his messy mop of hair and breathe deeply, taking in the musty animal smell. His shoulders are strong, but thin. I pull back and memorize his face desperately, because I know I'll have to let go eventually but I don't want to ever forget him. I admire his tan skin, the same shade as mine, smooth and not yet whethered by the sun. I memorize the button nose with its little wrinkles that show he's upset. His chin, still soft, but with the promise of being angular just like dads. His brown eyes, the exact shade of dark chocolate, his favorite treat that he'd get once a year for his birthday. How his hair falls into his eyes because it needs to be trimmed, yet he insists on keeping it long. Every little perfect feature on his angelic face, carved into my memory like a solemn statue. The only thing out of place, are the tears replacing the usual twinkle in his eyes.
"Why you? Wasn't Jonathon enough? Why can't the Capitol have a rule of no more than one person per family?" Ian whined. He sounds so lost, so…young. He is young. I think. He's only twelve. Ian acts so mature, that it's easy for me to forget just how young he is. How much he's already had to face, and will have to face again. It makes me want to cry, just thinking about leaving him with the momster.
"Listen to me Ian," I say, cupping his chin in my hand, "I'm sorry this had to happen, but I need you to be brave, okay?"
"Okay." Ian sniffles.
"I want you to get a job from Hersh." I say. Ian tries to protest but I press on, "He's the only one who will pay you more than minimum wage. I know you don't like how he works, but $7 an hour, working part time in a grimy factory won't get you anywhere."
"But, I don't want to, you know, get hurt." Ian whispers. I could kiss him for not mentioning gladiator fighting in front of the cameras.
"He knows that, he'd probably make you a ticket boy or a concessions boy. I know you don't like watching, but you have to." I whisper vehemently.
"Alright, because I love you, I will." Ian mutters, hugging me again.
"I love you too." I whisper into his ear.
Nothing has ever hurt so much or been so hard as when the peacekeeper came in to escort Ian away. I had to force myself to let go, giving Ian a quick peck on the forehead. I watch him leave, the peacekeeper guiding him out, and my heart breaks into a million pieces.
The next people to enter are Hersh, Angus, Justin, Austin, and Miko. None of the others show up, not that we're all that close.
Miko's bawling and both Justin and Austin have tears in their eyes. Miko's the only one that hugs me, and he let's go as soon as he realizes what he's done. I've never been super affectionate with any of them, even though they're my only friends.
Miko stiffens as I embrace him, but hugs me back, tentatively. "I'm gonna miss you." I say.
I pull away and address all of them, "All of you. You're my only friends, but you're more than that, you're family." I say.
I walk over and give Justin and Austin, each a hug. They also return it, crying onto my shoulder. I give Hersh a handshake because I can't imagine hugging him, but when I get to Angus, I pause, unsure of whether to hug him or not. Fortunately, Angus makes the decision for me and pulls me into a gentle hug.
When he pulls back, I place a hand on his shoulder to stop him. He looks surprised, but I don't care. "Can you do me a favor?" I ask.
"What do you need?" Angus asks. I smile with relief, I should have known he'd be willing to help me, for Jonathon's sake if not my own.
"It's Ian. Could you take him in? I don't want to leave him with mom. You understand, right?" I ask. I can see the indecision in his eyes, and I try to plead with mine. I'm not sure if my look makes a difference, but he finally nods.
"Thank you!" I sigh, "You have no idea what a relief that is for me."
"Hrrmph." Hersh utters, clearing his throat.
"Oh, yes, I almost forgot, would you be willing to give Ian a job? I'm sure he'll want to help support Angus." I ask sweetly.
"Oh…er…hrrmph…ah…sure." Hersh sputters. "Mean, as long as you do something for us." He continues.
"What can I do?" I ask, puzzled.
"What you do best...fight!" Miko interrupts.
"Yeah, you got what it takes to win, we know you do. It's all fine and well if we help Ian, but it'll be a hundred times better if you can return and help him yourself!" Justin says.
"And to help you remember what to fight for, we brought you something." Austin says. He pulls a worn piece of black leather from his pocket. It's a leather cuff, similar to the ones some of the fighters used, similar to the one's Jonathon used.
"It's the match to the one Jonathon wore when he fought. He gave it to me for good luck two years ago on Reaping day. He'd want you to have it." Austin says, buckling it tightly around my right forearm, the same side that Jonathon wore his on for his games. I my resolve not to cry fails, and a single tear leaks out. I rub it away quickly, but not before everyone sees. I feel ashamed to let them see me cry.
Just then the Peacekeeper enters, and tells them to leave. They shuffle out one by one, with Miko in the rear. Each one waves goodbye, and just before the door closes, I hear Miko shout, "Double tap!" I smile at that, but then I have to struggle not to burst out sobbing.
I'm taking slow, deep breaths, trying to calm down, when the last person I ever expected came barreling through the doors. Mom. Her eyes are blood shot and her teeth are bared in a snarl, she looks like she dipped her clothes in the mud before putting them on, and her hair is the same tangled knot she woke up with. It's not that what surprises me, it's that she looks like she's out for blood – my blood.
She starts pummeling me with her fists – or tries to anyway. My fighting instinct kicks in and I dodge her blows easily. She's screaming, but I can't make out the words. Suddenly all the fight leaves her, and she shuts up. It's official, she's finally gone off the deep end.
"When I told you to leave, this isn't what I meant!" She sobbed. I just back up, putting the couch between us.
"What's gonna happen to us? What's gonna happen to me?!" she squeaks, her voice jumping a full octave.
"You are gonna sober up and get a job, and Ian is going with Angus." I snarl.
"Noooo! I can't lose all my children like this!" Mom howls. Her knees give out and she sinks to the floor in hysterical sobs. I round the couch and grab her roughly by the shoulders.
"Mom! Unless you can change, this is for the best! Ian shouldn't have to put up with you by himself! You only care about your next drink, you're violent, and you're unpredictable! Angus said he'd take care of Ian, which is more than can be said of you!" I shout, willing her to understand.
"But, but… how can he leave his own mother?!" she blubbers.
"His mother?! His MOTHER!? He hates you! No, worse! He fears you! We've called you the momster since Jonathon died! Trust me, he want's to love his mother, but she disappeared four years ago!" I shout.
Suddenly, mom stops crying. I'm so shocked, I let go and back up, afraid of what she plans to do to me. But she doesn't move. Her glassy green eyes meet mine and she sighs.
"Your right." She croaks, "I need help. I do care about Ian, I care about you too, and if you both want him to go, if that's what's best, then leave." Mom rasps, as if it physically pains her to say this.
She just stays on the floor until the Peacekeeper returns. He actually has to carry her out. He gives me a questioning look, which I return with a glare. Mind your own damn business! I think.
The only good thing about mom showing up like that, is that I no longer feel like crying. I'm pissed, and just a little smug. It must show on my face because Verdandi looks slightly surprised when he sees me. The look passes quickly, replaced by disappointment. He hoped I'd be crying. I think sourly. At least Leo didn't disappoint you.
Leo, happens to be waiting in the car that will take all three of us to the train station. I've been in a few cars, most of them rusty and old, the majority of which were trucks meant for heavy duty farm work. That was usually on my way back from the arena, if someone was headed in the same direction, I'd pick up a ride.
This care is different though. First of all it's shiny, and looks brand new; second, the engine purrs so softly I can hardly hear it. The ride is smooth as I would imagine flying, it doesn't even feel like we're moving. No rattling, hardly any bumps despite the poorly maintained road, and above all, no driver cursing the engine loudly to 'keep running you god damned bitch'.
In fact, it would have been very enjoyable had I not been sitting next to a crying 14 year old and a stone cold sadist. I wonder if it felt this wonderful to Jonathon? But I know the answer, Jonathon would have been worried about the games, and the siblings he was leaving behind. Suddenly, I can't stop thinking of Ian. What if mom backs out on her promise to let Angus take him? I worry, biting my lip.
"Worried about the games?" Verdandi crooned in a mocking voice. Next to me, I hear Leo choke out another sob.
"No, my little brother actually." I reply, stiffly. The smirk slides off Verdandi's face, and I can't help but smile. Diana one, Creep zero.
The train station is full of reporters and cameras pointed at us. I give Leo's hand a squeeze before stepping out of the car. I walk as quickly as I can to the train, which wasn't nearly as quick as I'd like, but all that my bruise would allow for. I ignore the reporters, shouting questions at me and trying to hold out microphones. When I reached the train, I yanked the door open, and, because I could, I flipped off all of the reporters before stepping inside.
Thanks to all who have read this far! I'd really like some feedback on Diana and the story over all! Be brutal, I won't give up writing and the critiques really do help!