Reese Haricot, 15

December 17th 2425

One year and six months prior to the games

District Eleven

Once upon a time, there was a boy named Reese.

Reese is a carefree and courageous soul who always sees the best in life. Whether it be the people he meets along the way, the adventures he has or just the simple things… like the sunshine on a beautiful morning day or the sounds of birds on the branches of the trees or the smell of fresh daisies.

His life is a story, an adventure, he just knows it, and like any great story, it will have a happy ending. The sun will come out. It always does. That's a guarantee, every day.

One typical winter morning, Reese is skipping along a narrow clearing in a field. His bright-red hair is wild and messy just like his mind. The air is crisp and is biting through his multiple layers of clothes, but the sun is out and shining in the clear blue sky.

Reese's lips are practically glued to his harmonica. The two of them are inseparable, him and his harmonica, like twins. In fact, Reese's harmonica is his only friend. Together they continue to produce music for whoever might be listening.

Once Reese clears the golden field, he investigates the inside of his large satchel for his old-worn hat. There it is! Just under his slingshot that he made from sticks.

He lays his hat down and begins blasting into his harmonica in the hopes that some people will enjoy his music and leave him spare change.

Workers start circling about him and heading to town. They are mostly dressed in dull, grey, worn clothes. Their tired eyes are turned downward, despite Reese's music. Surely, his music will bring a smile out of at least one of them? That's why Reese is here, to help others see the beauty in the world like he does, and he'll do what he can to make sure that happens.

As Reese continues to hum into his harmonica, colours appear to splash out of it - like paint out of a pot. The colours fly above him, over the people and begin forming into multiple unique shapes until the entire world around him transforms, becoming more fantastical. A dragon soars overhead, threatening to destroy the town until a brave knight, wearing plated armour steps up to slay it. Reese always imagined himself being one of those brave heroes that he would read about in the old fables. He would be the one to slay the monster, one day.

Yet, when he was younger, he was always scared of monsters… and as much as he hates to admit it, that fear has stayed with him.

All of a sudden, his stomach grumbles. He clutches it and is painfully reminded that he hasn't eaten in two days. Reality encroaches back around him, the colour disappears, and the world returns to its cold, dull, empty, grey self. Maybe he is just silly, naive Reese? Nothing more.

Finally, Reese releases his harmonica from his mouth and stares down at it. Unknowingly to him, tears form in the back of his bright eyes. This rusty harmonica was the only thing his father left him, before he disappeared all those years ago. Reese's mum always says he'll be back soon, that he left to bring back wealth, and one day he'll return. But Reese knows all too well that some stories don't have a happy ending. He doesn't know if his father was killed on his travels, got lost or decided not to return. He can't decide which is worse. Deep down, some part of him imagines his father returning on a mighty stallion, with a pot of gold and everything would be perfect once again.

Reese's eyes remain fixed to his harmonica. His mothers croaking, coughing voice echoes in his mind like a half-remembered dream.

"Reese, you'll need to sell your harmonica. We don't have enough money for medicine, and your father's not back. I don't want to leave you alone."

He has to sell his harmonica. He has to sell the last memory of his dad. Otherwise, he'll never get the medicine for his mother, and he'll be left all alone in the world.

It's a Wednesday. The market is always on a Wednesday. The boy swallows back his tears, takes a deep breath and puts on a brave face, like he always has done.

Reese plods through a path in the fields, holding his grumbling belly and heads to the town square, where the market is held.

The market is alive with people scrambling to sell what they can, whether it be trinkets, tools or food. Steam from one of the food stalls travels to Reese's nose, and in turn, his stomach growls even more. His eyes drift down at his harmonica again. It's now or never. They need the money. But parting with it would be like losing a limb, a part of himself, the last memory he has of his dad. But if he doesn't give it up, he'll lose his mum too.

In the centre of the market, in between all of the hectic buying, a particular merchant catches his eye like a sunflower in a field of shrubs. The merchant is wearing a brightly coloured, expensive, shining outfit, and his hair is combed and pristine. Reese has never seen anything like it in his life. His gawk turns to a smile, and he approaches the man. "Please, sir… would you like a priceless harmonica?"

The merchant's gaze travels down to the slightly goofy boy, offering out his harmonica in his hands.

"You don't see that every day," the merchant says, now smiling.

"Really?"

Reese restrains himself from bouncing up and down like an excited bunny.

"Yes." The man shoves his hand into his pocket and begins rummaging around until he brings out a tiny, coin bag, tied with string. "I'll offer you these…"

After his visit to the marketplace, Reese has found himself bounding back down the lane to his wooden house on the edge of the town. He's never entirely sure how he gets from one place to another. As far as he's concerned, he's currently the luckiest person in Panem with what he got from that merchant. Still, in that moment, his heart feels like it was punctured - giving away his harmonica like that. His life will never be the same without it.

The little wooden house, in which he lives, is just up ahead under a bare winter tree.

Reese sprints the remaining distance and bursts through the door. "Mum! Mum!" He dashes into her room.

Hart Haricot is permanently bedridden and huddled under a thick blanket in the dim, yellow candle light.

"Mum! I sold my harmonica! Look what I got!" Reese kneels down by her bed and reaches into his sachet. He produces a small coin bag in his hand and empties out a dozen or so pale, white seeds into the other.

A deep, gravely cough rattles his mother's lungs. Her weary eyes steadily fold open then study the seeds.

Unexpectedly to Reese, his mum's eyes turn to sorrowful tears. "Son! You've been swindled! Didn't I tell you to take money for that stupid piece of junk?" She growls, tugging at her greying hair.

Reese's throat is suddenly tight and his chest is flooded by a wave of dread. He's never heard his mum speak like this before. He swallows back his tears. "It's not stupid!"

She seizes a handful of the seeds from him and hurls them against the wall in a fit of rage!

"Throw these away! We'll figure something else out. You have to stop being so naive, my son."

Reese turns and crashes outside into the darkening evening. Tears streaming down his face as a blustering gale picks up around him. He crashes through the fields and into the trees, getting caught by a sharp branch on the way.

The woods around him are now a gloomy-grey, but Reese can just about make out where he's going even with the tears clouding his eyes. A clearing approaches, and in the clearing is the tallest tree in the District and Reese's favourite to climb.

He frowns, trying to put on a brave face as always and begins hauling himself up. Up and up and up. The wind is now slamming into his lanky frame and threatening to knock him off entirely, which would surely be the end of him. But Reese is brave, so he continues all the way to the top.

He clambers onto the highest branch, that's still thick enough to support his weight, and clings to the slim trunk.

The wind has now blown away his tears, but they are still there, inside. He failed his mum; he lost his harmonica and he failed himself. Maybe he isn't a hero? Maybe he isn't anything other than silly, naive Reese?

The whirling, dark clouds begin to circle together and lighting flashes before Reese's eyes. With each flash, Reese swears he can see a castle in the sky behind the clouds. If anyone lives up there in that castle it will be something fantastical, like giants.

The boy diverts his eyes back down to the small bag of seeds in his pocket. Every good story has a happy ending and so will his. A deep breath runs through him and his hand clenches firmly around the bag. No. There's no way he gave up his only memory of his father for nothing. His story will have a happy ending.

He charges his way back down the tree and almost tumbles to the ground, but he quickly dusts himself off and races back through the woods to the yard outside his house.

Leaning by the tree is a small spade, which his mum used to use to plant flowers before she fell sick. Reese is shivering in the freezing winter air, but he doesn't hesitate to snatch the spade in his hand and begin ploughing into the soil. He makes a hole in the dirt just large enough for each seed and places them inside. His hands work gently to pat the soil down, tip a portion of water into the ground, and last but not least - he takes a handful of dirt and blows on it for good luck.

"Anything can happen. All it takes is a little bit of luck," he murmurs to himself.

That's what his mum always used to say… before she fell ill.

April 2nd 2425

One year and two months prior to the games

District Eleven

To Reese's delight, winter has finally come to an end. His favourite month was always the spring - it represents hope to him, hearing the sounds of baby birds in the nests and seeing the flowers preparing to burst open.

Over the months, Reese has been attending to the buds poking out of the yard, taking care of them diligently and carefully. Those seeds are the only hope for his mother and himself.

Reese rises up from his bed, rubbing his tired eyes. He peers out of his window and instantly, his eyes light up. Outside, the buds have sprouted into sunflowers, glistening brightly in the morning light. Reese's heart practically jumps with excitement! He throws on a worn, dirty jacket and bolts outside into his yard.

The sunflowers stretch up tall, almost taller than him. Their roots go deep. As he starts to inspect them, his chaotic mind finally focuses on his task at hand. He's going to save his mum, he's going to save them both… just like the heroes he used to read about in his stories.

The stems and roots can be weaved into chains and baskets to carry the chains, and he could sell them both at the market. He'd finally be able to get food on their table! They wouldn't have to sleep hungry any more.

Reese turns back, running into their petit kitchen to grab a knife. Then, he jogs back outside and uses the knife to trim the petals neatly into a bag. He turns back inside to the kitchen and grinds the petals and seeds into oil, putting together two soups for lunch. One for him and one for his mum. The first lunch he's had in a long while.

He scoots a bowl of soup into his hands and delicately knocks on his mother's door. "Mum! I brought you something!"

"Come in," she coughs from the other side.

He fights back his excitement, so as to stop himself spilling the soup on the floor, and nudges the door open.

His mum had been on the mend slightly over the last few months. Today she's finally sitting up in her bed.

Her tired eyes turn to Reese, but they brighten with excitement and widen with shock, at the sight of the bowl of soup on Reese's hands. "Did you…"

"Yes!" Reese beams. "I made it using the sunflowers I was tellin' you about."

At long last, Reese sees a weary smile line his mother's face. She plants a kiss on his forehead and begins slurping on the soup.

Now full of beans, Reese skips back to the window to gaze on his sunflowers swaying in the wind. They may not be as beautiful as his harmonica but as it turns out, the last thing his dad gave him, is the thing that saved his family. Reese is going to use the roots and seeds to create tea to help heal his mum. Maybe his dad knew all along that the harmonica would save them. Reese likes to think so.

He can see the sunflowers staring back at him, and in a way Reese's life is just like them. The sunflowers started from something small and hopeless and became something shining and beautiful.

Every story has a happy ending, he just knew it. Even more good things were coming… Reese can feel it.

Lilac Rafflesia, 16

March 3rd 2427

Four months Prior to the Games

District Twelve

The Seam Cemetery

"Mum, tell me the story about the skeletons!" little Lilac Rafflesia pleads, her eyes like a puppy dog's.

Her mother smiles warmly and fades into view under Lilac's bed lamp. Her pale face contrasts with her coal black hair. She plonks herself down on the side of her daughter's bed and begins recounting the tale of how she fought off three evil skeletons who were trying to desecrate the graves of the dead.

"Once, there was a girl who lived with her mother. She was deeply afraid of the dark and of monsters. But one day, when her mum was sick and she had no one to take care of her, the skeleton king sent his minions to steal the bodies from the graves,"

Lilac pulls the cover over her mouth at the mention of the skeletons.

"But the girl braved the dark, took her mother's magic golden sword and went out to face the monsters. Never again did they return!"

Lilac's heart jumps with joy and she rises above her covers, grinning with excitement. "And that girl was you!" She finishes.

Her mother nods and gently rubs her forehead. "See, you don't have to be afraid of the dark or monsters."

An icy, cold feeling suddenly infects the room. Lilac's smile fades away and the hairs stand up on her skin. Her mother suddenly coughs violently! Her eyes are bloodshot with terror. Then, Lilac's bedside lamp flickers out with a buzz and the room is drowned in shadow.

Lilac can only scream as a stone gargoyle bursts through the window, its eyes glowing like an inferno, and her mother is dragged away into the night….

Lilac jolts up from her bed, breathing heavily and sweating.

As soon as her heart rate returns to normal, she rubs her aching head and glances out her window. The sun has just peaked above the wooden roofs outside, casting a rosy hue in her bedroom.

A deep sigh escapes Lilac's lungs and she rubs her eyes. Her eyes shift to the clock on her bedside table.

6:30.

She sighs again and forces herself out of bed, strolling straight past the mirror and changing into some baggy pants and a hand-me-down shirt.

The pale, wiry girl creaks over the dark-oak floorboards of her house. Black curtains cover almost every window, drenching the place in somber shadow. She makes sure to scoot around the cobwebs on her stairs. The floorboard at the bottom of the stairs is always the loudest. It attracts her father's dark, baggy eyes from the dining-room table, but they quickly descend back to his breakfast bowl, and he continues munching silently.

It's been like this ever since her mum passed. The house neglected and full of cobwebs, her father retreating into himself.

"I see the vampire has finally rolled out of her coffin." Her older brother Damon's voice snaps her back to reality. The dark-haired, pale young man appears from the kitchen, smirking.

Lilac shoots him a middle finger, narrowing her eyes. "You're one to talk," she fires back.

"I'm just playin'," he replies, punching her shoulder and chuckling. "C'mon… we're gonna be late to work."

Lilac shivers from the chilly air in the sparse dining room. She tugs on a worn, dirty jacket and slumps down on the jet-black dining room with her breakfast. After she's finished shovelling her porridge in her mouth, she walks straight past her dad. No need to waste words on each other. Her brother's best friend, Drik Erikson, is leaning by the door with him, fiddling with the coathanger.

Lilac finishes wrapping her scarf around her neck and halts in front of her brother. "What are we waiting for? The skeletons to come out?"

"Shut up. You're the one that still believes those stupid stories," Damon retorts.

Lilac purses her lips. "Fuck-head," she jabs.

"One big happy family, as always," Drik chimes in, sarcastically.

The two siblings glare daggers at him and his eyes fall down. He places his hands in his pockets, awkwardly whistling.

The trio then journey outside into the dim, grey morning. It's hard to tell that it's morning. Low-lying mist stretches all across the cemetery in which they live, like a ghost clawing its way across the ground. Bare, black trees rise out of the mist. Lilac's mum used to tell her that they came alive during the night to snatch up any unwary victims.

She hasn't told them about her dream, despite the fact that they are her only friends. Their mum taken by a monster… they'll tell her it's just children's tales.

They stop in front of a stone building in the centre of the cemetery. Their workplace. Lilac gulps. Her stomach turns. She always thought that she'd be used to seeing dead bodies by now but she's just never sure what she's going to see every day. She's seen almost every way someone can die and it's never pretty.

There's always ways to make the sight not seem so grim. Murder/execution? She sees them as comic book-type skeletons beating up those who wronged them. Starvation? She imagines them waking up with much needed food, drink, and travelling everywhere they want; She would make sure to bury them before breakfast.

Burying the tributes from Twelve was always the hardest part for her. It's hard to put a positive spin on that.

They push their way inside. An old, bearded man in a smart black hat and coat is preparing a body on a table. Lilac strides towards the table, glimpsing down at the lifeless corpse that's wrapped in a linen cloth. "What've ya got for us today, Ash?"

"Mid-twenties, male." The old man answers with his croaky voice. "Cause of death… electrocution."

"Shocking," Lilac responds, monotone.

The mortician's wrinkly face forms a smirk, and after a delayed few moments, Drik bursts into a chuckle.

Lilac notices the burn marks all over the corpse's face now. She always thought they looked like trees…

"He was murdered," she states, examining his face closer.

"Maybe," the old man shrugs. "But then, that's not our job, is it?" he states, handing her a shovel.

Damon's footsteps echo next to her on the stone slabs. "Take it from her, she knows a thing or two about murder, right sis?" He says with a smug smile.

Lilac's hands clench tighter around her shovel and she gives her brother a frown. "That was one time, now zip it!"

Damon nervously eyes her shovel and steps back with his hands up. "Hey! I'm not complaining. Ever since that night, half of the grave robbers have strangely never come back."

"But the other half will never learn," Lilac replies, loosening her grip again.

"Speaking of which… looks like we're on duty tonight," Damon mentions, his eyes moving between Lilac and Drik.

"Looks like it," Lilac sighs.

After they've finished prepping the body for the coffin, the three of them march outside through the cemetery toward the plot. The midday sun is now out, which at least makes their surroundings more visible, even if it is just grey tombstones. The mist is illuminated by the bright sun, dazzling Lilac slightly but strangely giving the graveyard a more heavenly look.

She swears that sometimes, she can still see skeletons hiding behind the graves. Just like in her mum's stories.

The young gravedigger suddenly finds herself drifting through the mist to the edge of the cemetery. Her hands clasp around the metal fence and she stares outside, at the living.

They are mostly miners wandering past, covered is black dirt. But they are there. Alive. They are not corpses. They are not skeletons.

There was a time when she imagined being amongst the living, with friends and hobbies, but that's just a distant memory now.

"Lilac!" Her brother calls from across the cemetery. "Hurry up! This grave won't dig itself."

Lilac releases the metal fence, buries her hands in her pockets, and wanders back over to her brother.

Night has fallen over the cemetery in The Seam, and with it, a blanket of shadow. The only sounds that can be heard are the hoots of owls in the trees.

Lilac is sitting on a tombstone, leaning against a tree with a shovel resting on her lap. Her eyelids are flickering shut but her ears are on alert for the slightest sounds of footsteps on the grass or rustling in the bushes.

Her heart skips a beat. Despite her mum's stories, she'd never quite got over the fear of being alone in the dark.

Then it comes. A twig snaps to her left. The thieves in the night are here.

Her eyes shoot open wide and her hands dart to her shovel, gripping it tightly. The girl hops down off the tomb and begins prowling around for the source of the noise, her eyes narrowing like a big cat preparing to pounce.

A dark silhouette prances out from behind a tall gravestone, then ducks behind a tree.

"Gotcha," Lilac mutters.

She lunges at the tree, raising her shovel up to strike down hard but freezes at the sight of her brother.

"Boo!" he exclaims, grinning wildly.

"Fuck you! I could have taken your head off, you idiot," Lilac growls.

But he continues cackling to himself.

"It's not funny!"

When Lilac's heart relaxes and she scans around the dark misty graveyard. "Wait a minute… when was the last time you saw Drik?" She ponders.

Damon's chuckling drowns out, his grin fades. He begins scratching his head, also glancing around the cemetery. "Ermmm."

They shift around to begin stalking the tombs tensely, now side by side, shovels in hand.

"What's that?"

Just up ahead, a boy is slumped unconscious against a tree. "Drik!" Damon gasps, racing over to his friend.

Lilac jogs softly on the grass to catch up with him. "Shhhh… whoever did this is probably still out there," she whispers.

She crouches down and places her finger on Drik's pulse. "He'll be fine… looks like they used chloroform."

"We need to get a doctor!" Damon insists.

Just then, footsteps shudder against the ground at an increasingly rapid pace! Lilac turns but is tackled by a thief shrouded in a dark cloak and a hood.

The hooded thief slams his fist into Lilac's gut, and she gasps with pain, winded and disorientated. She then finds another cloth, laced with chloroform, being pushed towards her mouth.

"You guys are getting better at this," she groans.

Holding the assailant's arm back, she manages to wriggle free slightly and slam her heel into his stomach. "Argh!"

Her hands then crawl around on the grass for her shovel, until they find it laying just above her head. She swings the shovel hard like a baseball bat into the thief's head and she's sure she hears his skull crack!

He tumbles to the ground face down and Lilac pushes herself back to her feet, yelling into the night as a wild animal would.

She's about to smash the downed thief over the head a second time, but she notices her brother struggling on the ground against a second hooded attacker, armed with more chloroform. For a moment, she's sure that the thief is actually a monster. A living, evil gargoyle like the one that took her mum! It makes it much easier for her to wack him in the skull again, and again, and…

A hand catches her shovel! "Stop!"

Her brother's eyes are wild, and his chest is puffing heavily. "We don't need another murder investigation, thank you."

The red mist clears from Lilac's eyes, her grip on her shovel falls slack. She lets it drop to the ground, then stares down at the thief below them. It's not a gargoyle at all… it's a person.

Lilac's and Damon's eyes meet each other again, then simultaneously go back down to the three unconscious people at their feet. "Can we get a doctor now?" Her brother asks, wiping the sweat from his head.

Lilac ignores him and gasps, charging over to one of the larger tombstones. It is upturned and broken open, smashed to pieces and its contents spilled out.

Lilac hurries to try to collect up what remains on the ground. "Damn it!"

Damon runs to join her by her side. They let the monsters steal from her mother's cemetery. They dishonoured her name. Has she let her mum down? If she was like her mum, she would never have let them sneak up on her like that. Her mum would always fight the monsters off… until she was taken.

Auren Demerre, 16

March 20th 2427

Four months prior to the games

District Ten

Rustvale

The sun shone down upon the town of Rustvale, lighting up the gently swaying grass and the soft green leaves on the trees.

A bee glimmered in the sunlight and buzzed past eleven-year old Auren's head. A smile appeared across her face and she trailed after the little insect, across a narrow dirt path. It zig-zagged and darted off towards a branch into its hive, where it was joined by its friends. It's just returned from its little bee adventure, no doubt. Auren imagined that they could have had a tough winter, so her eyes scanned around the path until they fell on a flower.

"Here!" she said, skipping over to it and tugging it off the ground. She held the pollen up to the bees and grinned again as they swarmed around it. One day, Auren will be a beekeeper, delicately taking care of the bees, and she would be happy.

"Hey weirdo!" A voice sneered from behind Auren.

Auren's heart jumped and she spun around to find Letta there, standing with her arms crossed. Letta was taller and bulkier at that age, not to mention she was surrounded by her clique who made Auren feel smaller than a bug.

"You know the bugs can't hear you, right?" Letta smirked.

One of her friends leaned towards the lead bully's ear. "She's a fucking weirdo, let's just go," her friend whispered, loud enough for Auren to hear.

However, Letta did not leave Auren alone. She strode up to the smaller girl and all Auren could do was stare, and step back slowly towards the wall of a business building.

"Whatcha starin' at, freak?" Letta spat, giving Auren a firm shove.

The smaller girl was sent tumbling down and her forehead was cut on the wall, blood now dripped from her head.

It didn't end there. Letta and her gang proceeded to stomp and slam their feet into Auren's gut until she could barely breathe - both from the wind being knocked out of her, and from shock.

Auren eventually managed to crawl away and stumble back towards her home, tears dripping from her eyes.

Jiya. She still had her sister, Jiya. She was the only one that seemed to listen to her when she tried to talk about the bullying. Surely, she would hug her and tell her it's not her fault that the other kids treat her this way?

"Maybe if you made an effort to be normal… then they'd stop."

Her sister's words that day never left Auren.

She hates hanging out around this wall. It brings back memories of that day. But then, why should it bother her? That Auren was somebody else. It's also much cloudier today and the leaves on the trees seem a lot more… grey.

Sixteen-year old Auren leans against the wall of the business building and brings a cigarette up towards her lips, inhaling the smoke before puffing it out. She's never entirely sure what Letta puts in her joints, nor does she care, frankly.

Her hair is cut short to remain out of her face, and although she only stands at 5'4, she looks taller due to her build. She wears a permanent half-frown on her face which forces passers-by to divert their eyes from hers.

In the corner of her eye, she spots a ladybird hovering towards her. She fights off the urge to smile and say hello to it, but doesn't stop it from landing on her other hand. She instinctively twirls it between her fingers, her eyes suddenly glued to it.

However, luckily she glances up and notices Letta strolling towards her, alone. Auren quickly waves the bright-red bug away.

"There you are," Letta groans, leaning beside her on the wall.

Auren raises her eyebrows and takes another puff from her cigarette. "There I am," she replies, monotone.

Letta reaches into her pocket and pulls out a bag of pills. Auren's hand extends out to take them but Letta pulls her hand back. "Ahem… remember your side of the bargain?"

Auren rolls her eyes and inhales again on her cigarette. "Can't you get your own damn lunch money?"

Letta's mouth forms a closed-lipped smile. "Why would I, when I've got you?"

"I've been expelled," Auren retorts. "Remember that incident with the chair?"

"Now that wouldn't stop a girl like you, would it?"

Auren shrugs. "I guess not," she sighs.

Then she snatches the bag of pills from Letta's hands, taking a final swig from her cigarette and stamping it out on the path.

Auren stands up tall, striding towards the entrance to her old school. She pulls a hood up from the hand-me-down hoodie that she was given by her sister. The hooded girl then cracks the door open carefully, aware that she's now technically a trespasser.

Her eyes face downward, but her pace doesn't falter. She places her hands in her pockets and barges through the crowds of schoolmates. However, her intimidating aura automatically creates a circle of empty space around her, giving her a free path to the cafeteria where kids are lining up, anxiously awaiting their lunch.

Auren approaches the corridor wall. Students pass her in rapid succession, heading to the kitchen to buy their lunch. So, Auren lets her back rest against the wall, awaiting her victim.

There he is… Aaron, a small, fidgeting boy with his eyes constantly facing the floor. About half-way through his journey to the kitchen, Auren casually places her arm across the corridor to block his path.

He pauses, his widening eyes move up to Auren. He gasps with dread. "You gotta be kidding me, I thought you were expelled!"

This grabs the attention of her classmates and now all eyes are suddenly on Auren.

The girl removes her hood from her head and her lips form a smirk. "You know the drill," she says, opening out her palm.

The boy stumbles back, shakingly peering around at the other pupils for help. "I-I don't have any money today, p-please."

"Okay," Auren replies. "Would you like to tell that to Letta yourself?"

"Fuck you!" He hisses, jabbing his fist towards Auren's gut but the taller girl easily catches the punch and plants her boot into his stomach!

He coughs in pain and falls down to his knees. Auren then proceeds to lift him up by his shirt and slam his head into a nearby wall, cutting it open. She clenches her fist, preparing to do a number on him. Her hand finds its way to his collar and grips it tightly, almost choking him. She raises her fist, about to break his nose, but his own shaking hand stretches out to stop her.

"Ok! Ok!"

He finally gives in.

He rummages around in his pocket and produces a few scrunched-up notes. "Here… it's all I have," he stutters.

Auren yanks the money from his hand then stuffs it in her own pocket. "Much obliged," she says.

She shoves another student out of the way and storms back out of the school before the teachers arrive. A path through the pupils naturally clears in front of her.

Letta is still waiting by the wall, just where Auren left her. She slaps the money in Letta's hand but hastily strides past her.

Letta inhales. "One more thing."

Auren stops and turns back to her, frowning deeply. "What?"

"One of my customers hasn't paid her way. It seems you and I need to pay her a visit tonight," she answers, staring at the money in her hand.

Auren nods and turns back to head home. Looks like she won't be getting an early night tonight.

A few hours later, after dark, Auren shuts her farmhouse door behind her. Her brother used to practise baseball in the field before he moved out. However, he left his bat here. It's thick and sturdy, so Auren packs it in her backpack. She wrapped the bat with a thin but sharp rope to do extra damage and potentially cut her victims.

(Is this what she is now? Another Letta? A villain? One thing is for certain, she's sure as hell she'd rather be a villain than a victim. If she even realised she has a choice.)

As Auren strolls down the lane through the countryside leading to the main town, she feels strangely comforted by the noises of the night-time rural animals. From the croaking of the cicadas, to mooing of cows, to that strange sound that foxes make. Her heart is calmed for a brief moment in time.

That is, until she remembers that this is the path she used to use as a kid…

Her lungs tighten. She instinctively peers around her, almost anticipating a bully that could jump out at any moment, like a soldier caught in no man's land.

No! Auren shakes the thought away. She's the bully now. It's the only way she can guarantee her safety in this world.

Letta's silhouette in the night comes into view at the end of the path. Aureen picks up the pace, adorning her usual frown. Once she's reached the other girl, she produces the baseball bat from her bag and rests it over her shoulder.

"Shall we?" Letta smirks, gesturing to Rustvale.

Auren doesn't answer. She simply sticks some gum in her mouth and begins chewing on it.

The pair proceed through the town silently until they reach an apartment block at the end of a quiet street. Auren steps forward and barges her way inside, and the two of them storm up the stairs heading straight for apartment twelve.

Auren pauses outside the door; her hands tighten around her bat. She begins chewing on her gum more aggressively. She glances one last time at Letta. Her accomplice nods. Auren kicks the door open with all her might.

A girl and a guy are inside, slouched comfortably on the sofa. The pair of them jump up to the sound of the door smashing open, yelping at the sight of the baseball-bat-wielding thug.

"Knock, knock," Auren exclaims, grinning ear to ear.

The guy charges straight at her but she swings the bat hard against his head. He thuds against the floor, knocked-out cold.

Letta leaps past her partner in crime and swiftly tackles the girl into their coffee table, smashing several glasses in the process. "Hey Tori," she says. "Are you forgetting something?"

"Letta? I'm sorry. I-I'll have the money tomorrow. I swear!" the girl stammers.

Meanwhile, Auren prods the unconscious guy on the floor with her bat before peering around the room. There are dozens of valuable looking ornaments, plates and pictures on the cabinets.

So, Auren lifts her bat up again and starts swiping at them. One by one, she violently smashes them to pieces.

Tori, still pinned down by Letta, tilts her head over to Auren. "Hey! Those aren't mine! They belong to my family," she pleads.

But Auren ignores her and slams her baseball bat into several family pictures.

"You're insane!"

Still casually chewing her gum, Auren stops in front of a particularly expensive looking vase, places the end of her bat against it then shifts her gaze to Tori.

Tori holds out her hand in desperation. "Wait, no! Please! My grandma gave me that!"

Auren nudges it lightly with her bat but hard enough that it topples off the side and shatters to pieces on the floor. "Whoops," she shrugs, strolling over to Tori. "Tell your grandma she has terrible taste."

Letta huffs and shakes the girl to divert her attention back to her. "Tomorrow. Or we'll smash more than your grandma's vases."

She forcefully releases the girl's shirt and heads back out into the corridor. Before Auren follows her, she crouches down to the terrified, shaking Tori. She notices a shining, white crystal necklace neatly fitted around her neck. That'll be worth a handsome sum.

"Your granny give you this as well?" she questions, raising an eyebrow and hooking the necklace with her bat.

Tori shakes her head frantically. "My d-dad!"

Auren smirks and yanks the necklace. It snaps away from her neck and Auren holds it out to examine it.

As she heads back to the door, the broken pieces of glass and ornaments crack beneath her feet. She spits her gum out on the floor just before she leaves.

She jogs downstairs after Letta and soon finds herself back out in the night air. She shuts the door behind her, then releases the bat. Her face sinks into her hands. She's not exactly sure what she did back there, it was all a haze, but a small part of her feels like it was someone else.

SNAP

Auren's hands slide from her face. Letta is lighting a takes a drag and then places another in Auren's mouth.

"Ya did good back there," Letta comments, snapping her lighter until Auren's cigarette is also burning.

"Uh huh," Auren responds, clasping the cigarette in her two fingers and puffing out smoke.

She doesn't waste time chatting with her "friend" and is soon strolling back through quiet Rustvale, ready for bed.

She may be a monster. But monsters survive in this world. Those who pretend otherwise are deluding themselves.

It's not long until she's back at her front door on the outskirts of the town. Hopefully everyone's asleep. It's late enough. Not that any of them likely know she's even been gone… or care. She gently turns the handle and nudges the door open, strolls inside and then lays her baseball bat against the wall.

"Where have you been?"

Auren's eyes dart up. Her sister is sitting on the stairs in her pyjamas, leaning forward on her hands, furrowing her eyebrows. "It's past midnight… what the hell have you been up to?" she asks, the harshness in her voice drift into concern.

Auren shrugs. "Being normal," she answers.

And that is her only response.

She plods up the stairs past her sister, not even sparing her a glance.

It never occurs to Auren that there was not a single second throughout her day that she was happy…

Hey everyone! We're here with our second intros. Thanks AuroraMiri25 for Reese, SakuraDreamerz for Lilac and District11-Olive for Auren! I really enjoyed all of these 3, they were all unique to write, I hope you enjoy reading them! See you next time!