Heather
I nestle my fingers into the familiar dents of my mug and let its lazy steam warm my nose. It's a chilly morning, but the season's known for bipolar weather. My weary shuffle converges with those of other early-rising harvesters on their way to the Mess Hall.
Suddenly, a loud, shrill scream emanates from the Great Hall. I mutter an oath as hot coffee splashes over my fingers. Others around me are jolted from their walking slumber as well; I can hear their whispers and murmurs behind me. I turn towards the Hall, and can see through its open doors to the Unity Tree.
I don't notice my shoes are drenched until I hear the clatter of tin on stone. I don't notice I have stumbled off the path until I see dark mud and grass under my fingernails. And then I am running as fast as I can.
"Oh, my god."
"No. No, no, no. This isn't happening."
"Get her down. Get her down from there now."
"Somebody get help!"
"Someone call Rosemary!"
I tear off my jacket as I near the Tree, but he's already wrapping her in flannel. He lifts her, supporting her weight. Her feet are blue.
"The rope's too tight around her wrists. We have to cut her down."
"Who has a knife?"
"Wait, wait. Her shoulder's dislocated."
The dry, ripping sound of fibers being cut. Her hands are caught before they fall.
"I'll set it," Jordan's slow, calming voice is now tight. "I did it for Dale back when he fell out of that tree."
A sickening pop. A half-sob escapes my throat.
"Where the hell is Rosemary?" It is meant to be an angry yell, but it comes out much too high, almost a keen.
He staggers and almost drops her as he starts carrying her across the grounds towards the Healing Ward. He is saying something over and over again but I can't understand it.
I remember my jacket in my limp hand and run up beside him. As I throw it over her I can finally hear what he is sobbing into her neck.
"I'm so sorry, Mama. I'm so sorry. Please. Please. You'll be okay. Please."