Glass (Chapter 11)

District Eight wasn't that bad of a place to live.

Sure, there were some bad parts of town. There were dangerous people everywhere, and most citizens didn't have the comfortable home that she'd grown up in. To someone with well-off parents, that wasn't really a concern.

At least, that's what Nina Hester thought.

In her eyes, her house and living status were normal. Her mind was more concerned with things other than the state of the rest of the district. She wasn't oblivious, per say, but lived with the assumption that this was what life looked like.

Sitting on her bedroom floor, rug underneath her and window to her back, Nina had her eyes closed. She was humming a popular tune, lost in her own world. The people going by outside her street could have been a million miles away. Her mind was occupied with a daydream that frequently played through her head.

In her mind, she was at an altar, in a white dress with flower petals scattered around her. A gentle breeze blew her hair across her face, and the person across from her gently fixed it as he gazed lovingly into her eyes. Nina hadn't quite settled on a face for this mystery husband, as it changed from day to day.

Marriage was the ultimate goal in her eyes. To have someone that loved her, mind and soul? It was a dream that she'd had for a long time. Finding the perfect someone was a little beyond her reach, however.

It wasn't like she didn't talk to people. The perfect person just hadn't come along yet. As she sat, daydreaming, she let out a long sigh. The clock ticked away next to her, but she had plenty of time before she had to go to work.

The doorbell ringing made her open her eyes and turn to the window. She was slightly disappointed when she saw it was just her brother, before remembering that seeing him wasn't an everyday thing anymore. He'd recently moved away to live closer to their family's factory, since he was going to inherit the family business.

Waving at him from the window, she got up and started heading downstairs once she was sure he'd seen her. Their father was probably closed off in his room, so it was left up to her to open the door.

Unlatching the top lock, then the bottom lock, then turning the key in the doorknob, she smiled widely when the door finally swung open. Her brother, Chris, stepped inside before giving her a hug. When he stepped back, he held something in his hand out to her. It was wrapped in a spare bit of fabric, and tied with a small ribbon.

Nina's eyes widened, and she took the tiny parcel, feeling the weight of it in her palm. The gift was small and lightweight. It almost felt as though it had liquid in it. Oh! Could it be? She thought she knew what it was, but she wasn't sure.

"Good to see you, Nina. I brought you something that we talked about a while ago. I figured it would be good to bring it to you now, since I'm working a lot over the next month," said Chris, motioning for her to open the \present. She delicately untied the ribbon before letting out an excited gasp.

"Nail polish? Oh, thank you! I ran out a couple days ago!" she exclaimed, holding the bottle up to the light. It was in a pale pink color, just subtle enough that it had color but wasn't overwhelmingly bright.

Nail polish was a commodity from the Capitol that even her family had trouble getting sometime. It was manufactured in the district, which helped, though the tiny bottles were outrageously expensive. She wasn't sure how Chris had managed to get his hands on some, since their factory manufactured fabric and clothing.

"So, how's everything going at the studio?" he asked, taking a few more steps inside and surveying the room.

"Not bad! I have a class to help with today, I should probably get going soon so I make it there in time," Nina replied, checking the clock on the wall. One of her passions was working at the local dance studio. They didn't get many clients, but had enough to keep business going, and sometimes taught free classes for the youth of the district.

"I'll let you go, then. I should probably see how dad is doing," Her brother smiled at her before heading down the hallway to their father's room. Nina, knowing that she needed to get moving, ran upstairs and grabbed her bag.

Her teaching clothes were on under her t-shirt and jeans, so she could easily change at the studio. She made sure to put the nail polish up on her dresser before going back downstairs. Latching the front door, she then went to the side door, making sure to lock it as well when she made it outside. It was a habit developed from living in district eight for her entire life.

Walking down the street, she passed several other houses before turning onto the street most of the businesses nearby were located on. Nina passed the small bookstore, the cafe, and the bakery before arriving at her destination.

When she walked in, the girl at the front desk greeted her, and Nina gave her a wave back. They didn't have a formal receptionist, it was too expensive, so they balanced the job between the official teachers and the apprentice trainers. Most of what Nina did was paperwork for them, not teaching classes yet, though she frequently did some choreographing since that was her job title.

Heading to the back, where the staff kept their stuff, she changed out of her outer layers and put on her dance shoes. She needed time to start her stretches before she sat in on one of the teachers and their class.

Nina didn't often get to help out with the adult classes, mainly with the kids, but today was a special day. She'd be watching the teacher and helping with choreographing a routine for the class. The routine would be basic, mainly a warm-up. Still, the job was more exciting than what she normally did, so she was looking forward to it.

As she began her stretches, she looked out the window of the second floor, seeing the skyline of the tall apartment buildings in the distance. That's where most of district eight lived, in the sprawling city area. There were some factories in a couple of other cities around the district, but the population was mostly concentrated here.

She sat on the ground and reached out to touch her toes. Her legs were stretched out in front of her, and she could easily reach over her toes and beyond. Years of stretching had made this particular stretch trivial.

Some sort of commotion from downstairs made her stand up, frowning and heading toward the top of the stairs to see what all of the fuss was about. To her surprise, there were several peacekeepers in the entryway.

"We'd recommend that you stay inside for now, miss. There's been reports of criminal activity around here, and it's safest if you stay inside," said the man closest to the front desk. Nina recognized him as one of the nicer peacekeepers who patrolled the area. Most of the peacekeepers were quite brusque, so it was good that this particular man was delivering the news.

It took Nina a second to absorb what he'd said. Criminal activity was common in the city, though it never spread to this area. From outside, beyond the closed door, she could see and hear signs of a scuffle going on. There were people running, and the sound of muffled yelling made her wince.

"What happened? Everything was fine when I was walking here earlier!" she replied, her eyebrows furrowing. There was a nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach. Hopefully the peacekeepers were here to keep them safe.

Typically, the peacekeepers were more concerned about keeping the populace in line, not protecting them. These peacekeepers were nicer than normal, though, so she had hope that nothing bad would happen to her. She did wonder why they were inside instead of helping out with things outside. Nina could see peacekeepers out there, maybe this was just a precaution for safety.

It was slightly unfortunate that the one day she'd showed up early to something everything had gone wrong. They'd definitely have to cancel class because of this. A thought occurred to her. If there was violence outside, what if some of their students got hurt? She didn't want to see any of her friends injured. All she could do was hope that they'd found shelter somewhere. Maybe it was selfish, but she was also worried about herself. What if someone broke into the studio?

"If you two don't mind, heading upstairs might be your safest option. There's only one entrance to the building. This will all pass quickly," said the same peacekeeper as before. Nina made eye contact with the girl at the front desk, and the two hurried to the back and up the stairs. They found themselves in the cramped kitchen area, sitting under the tall bar-height table attached to the wall.

She heard sounds of some of the peacekeepers opening the door, and then closing it. There were still voices from downstairs, so not all of them had left.

The girl next to her was quietly crying. Nina gave her a gentle pat on the arm, and tried to muster a smile. If one of them needed to be brave, she could calm down and pull herself together.

"Nylona, it's going to be fine. The peacekeepers will make sure no one gets in. It'll all be over soon, and then we can head home. Don't worry about class, I'm sure everyone has already gotten word that it's not safe here," Nina whispered. Nylona nodded, but tears were still streaming down her face.

Shuffling out from under the table, her curiosity getting the better of her, she poked her head slightly above the bottom of the window to see what was going on. The dark haired girl didn't really think about whether it was safe or not before moving. Outside, she saw several people running with makeshift weapons, throwing things at the peacekeepers.

The peacekeepers didn't seem to be fighting back, they appeared instead to be protecting the businesses on the street. Across the road, she could see the bookstore had its front windows smashed in, and there were books strewn around on the ground.

"Nina! Someone is going to see you!," choked out Nylona through her tears. Nina hastily ducked down, but not before making eye contact with a scary-looking man in the road. She let out a squeak, then hurried back to the table.

Not wanting to let her overactive imagination get the better of her, Nina took a deep breath. No one was going to break into the studio. Even if they did, no handsome stranger was going to save her.

After what seemed like an eternity, the sounds of violence outside stopped, and the peacekeepers called up to them. Nina and Nylona tentatively left their spot next to the wall and went downstairs. The same peacekeeper from earlier was there, looking slightly battered and bruised but no worse for wear.

"Our best guess is that the nearby deserted factory land was a target for the gangs. We didn't think this street would be a target for them. They most likely fled this way to try and avoid us, as there's too many people here for this area to really be their goal. We'll be escorting the both of you to a safe point, and then you can go home from there," the man said, adjusting his mask.

Nina nodded, breathing a sigh of relief. Nothing had happened to the studio. In all her years of attending classes and working there, nothing like this had ever happened.

Her brother and father would be relieved to know she was safe. As she was escorted down the street with Nylona and several other people from nearby businesses, she couldn't help but look at the damages. In a week, there'd be no sign that this had ever happened.

Chapter Eleven Part Two

District Eight was a shithole.
In Gideon's eyes, it was the worst district in the entire nation of Panem, though he was a little biased because he lived there. As the poorest district in Panem, with a small upper and middle class, he wasn't the only one in a situation like this. Gang activity ran rampant in the city, and outside of it, many other citizens struggled to make themselves a living. In the plainest of words, it sucked.
At the present, things weren't going very well. Gideon had found himself running along a back street, clutching his side as he ran, his lungs feeling like they were burning. Some would say that this was entirely his fault. He would disagree.

"Gideon! Get your ass over here!" yelled a voice from an alley. His head swiveling to the side, Gideon spotted Lorcan, a member of his gang, gesturing for him to run into the side alley that was encased in shadow. Still holding his side, he diverted his path, careful to not let anyone following him see where he was going.

Breathing heavily, he paused, then looked behind him to make sure the coast was clear. The alley was a dead end, but there were some crates that they could hide behind, which he promptly took refuge beside.

Lorcan crouched down next to him. With gritted teeth, Gideon examined his wound, and let out a quick curse. He was bleeding, not badly, but enough that the healing process would be difficult. Angrily, he glared at Lorcan, who made an apologetic face back at him. If Gideon had been uninjured, his "friend" would have surely been slammed into the wall by now.

"I thought you said the peacekeepers were on the opposite side of the city today?" questioned Gideon, letting a bit of air out between clamped teeth. Lorcan grimaced, eyes darting to the side.

"Yeah, but that was originally from Tucker! I already told you, man! He yelled it to me yesterday from the hideout. Surprised you didn't hear him," Lorcan replied with his palms up and a half smile. Gideon grumbled, before realizing something.

Tucker hadn't been at the hideout yesterday. He'd been out scouting for the gang, and hadn't returned until the early hours of the morning. He knew Lorcan, and while he was a coward, he wasn't a liar, at least not to him. That could only mean that Lorcan had his information incorrect, and thought he was telling the truth.

"Did you see Tucker? 'Cause he wasn't there yesterday. I swear, Lorcan, you've got to stop listening to the younger boys, they're all fucking stupid," shot back Gideon as he slid down further behind the pile of crates. With the confusion on the other man's face, he could only assume that this was another case of mistaken communication. This had been happening a lot recently, not to mention that they'd been getting mostly useless anonymous tips from an unknown source. Everything seemed to be going downhill.'

"No, I didn't see him, but I know his voice! That was him, man. Maybe he came back early or something? Though he did sound a bit… off? Like it was definitely him, but maybe he had a cold," Lorcan insisted as he scratched behind his ear.

"Well, either way, the information was fake. The peacekeepers were waiting for us. We're lucky we made it out alive," hissed Gideon, falling silent when he heard footsteps from outside the alley. For a brief moment, the two stayed silent, then looked at each other. It didn't sound like peacekeeper boots. After a few minutes of waiting, Lorcan peeked around the side of the crate, causing Gideon to tug on the back of his shirt to bring him back.

Lorcan's sigh of relief meant that there wasn't anyone there. Still, Gideon was extremely annoyed with him, and nothing he could do would fix that. Maybe if his subordinate wasn't such an idiot, they wouldn't be in this situation.

"Come on. We've got to get moving," said Gideon, still holding his side as he moved to get up. Lorcan offered him an arm, which was promptly swatted away. It didn't matter that he was in pain. Accepting help meant that he was weak, and Gideon Merino was not weak.

As the two exited the alley, carefully watching to make sure there were no more peacekeepers, he nearly stepped on a piece of paper at the entrance. Leaning down to pick it up, he grimaced in pain, then nearly fell over while reading it. It was signed with a large letter E, and only had a few words on it.

"Your primary objective is doomed to fail. Better luck next time," read Lorcan from behind him.

Whatever that meant, it couldn't be good. Their gang had no primary objective, minus taking over old factories and keeping themselves alive. What was with this better luck next time bullshit? This wasn't a video game. This was real life, and whoever left this note was getting on his nerves. Maybe the note wasn't meant for them.

Flipping it over, his face crumpled into a furious expression. Never mind that. It was addressed to "The son of Racham Merino", and that pushed his buttons in such a way that he immediately ripped the note into shreds. No one should know who he was, let alone who his father was. What kind of sick person was pulling the strings in the background?

Quickly moving, or as fast as he could move, the two kept along the edges of the streets until they reached a side street that would lead them out of this area of the city.

"Are you sure it wasn't Tucker yesterday? I mean, I swear it was him!" Lorcan brought up as they rounded the corner.

"No, you dolt. He got back early this morning. I would know," hissed back Gideon. At the present, all he wanted to do was return to the hideout in their old abandoned factory and yell at some people. Lorcan raised an eyebrow at his words, but this was hardly something he cared about right now.

As they moved in the shadows, they eventually found some other members of their gang, who fell in line behind them. By the time they made it back to the hideout, they had around seven people with them, and almost all of them were injured in some way. Gideon did a headcount, and realized that they were missing several faces. Must have been caught by the peacekeepers. If they didn't return by tomorrow night, they'd have to move hideouts. He didn't want their location being leaked.

As they ducked under a tarp being held up with two shaky metal poles, Gideon surveyed the bottom area of the building. Most of the small sleeping areas were empty, and those that had been left behind were playing cards at a table in the middle.

"I take it that your raid didn't go well," said Elliott, throwing down his hand and standing up to greet him.

"No shit. Get me some bandages, will you?" replied Gideon with a frown. As he collapsed into a chair, he leaned back, making a show of still being strong and in command. No matter how hurt he was, he wasn't going to show weakness. He'd made it this far as a leader, and wasn't about to become a follower after a moment of pain.

Two of the other gang members came out from behind a tent, and Gideon simply rolled his eyes before gesturing for them to get cleaned up. That wasn't his problem right now.

"Hey. boss," said a voice from behind him. Tucker, looking tall and bulky per usual, came up to him with a grin. The grin fell when he noticed that Gideon was injured. Simply waving him off, Gideon sighed, and glared at his compatriot when he didn't leave.

"I take it that the raid didn't go well?" said Tucker, not getting the hint.

"Nope. I'll scout something else out tonight. We might need to move soon," he replied, ignoring Tucker's obvious concern. This abandoned factory had been a great place to run their operations, but nothing good could last forever. With the Games coming up, there was a chance that the peacekeeper security would get worse, and that they'd have to find somewhere else. Given that there was also a good chance they'd have an information leak soon, it was high time they got out of there.

If a day ever came when District Eight wasn't a shithole, Gideon was sure that he wouldn't be around to see it. The poor suffered while the rich thrived, and the games only made it worse. They were a far off concept, but they were hard to ignore. It had been years since he'd actually watched them, and the last time they'd had a district eight victor, things just hadn't gotten any better.

Their small abandoned factory was all they had, and even that could be gone soon. The cycle of life was brutal, and it wasn't ever going to get any better.

It's been a while, but it's the 2 year anniversary of TWSOR, and I had two intros done, so here's a chapter! I'm moving things around a little bit, and making chapters a bit shorter, but hopefully this will allow me to actually write and post them. As a reminder, reserves will open back up on February 1st, so if you have a reserve, either contact me or get them in as soon as possible! Thanks for sticking with me, and here's to two years of The Wrong Side of Revival!