District 7 Male - EDGAR N. MOORE
!!DID NOT HAND IN!!
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District 7 Female - SORREL GOLDIE
When I was twelve, I got a horrible disease that left me bedridden for weeks. It was a stressful time for me and Laurel. Her eyes were just being opened to the cruelties of the world and a sick sister was not what she needed. I had hoped to keep her oblivious for a year or two more, but she’s smart. I couldn’t keep her in the dark forever.
At the time, we lived in a barn just outside the orchards. It had been empty when we first stumbled upon it, so we made the mouse-infested shack our home. And it was a home. Not a house or temporary living. To us, it meant everything.
I was never sure why District Eleven even had a farm, but that’s beside the point. Laurel made me a bed out of the softest hay she could find and provided me a stained pillow that must’ve been left behind. For days and days I laid there, slipping in and out of sleep. When I did wake up temporarily, skull-splitting headaches would send me back into my head.
This is how it feels when my eyes open for the first time since the arena. Pressure fills my head and implodes on it. The pain is excruciating and my vision falters, dark spots threatening to take me back to sleep. This time, though, I fight back the darkness.
As I struggle to rekindle my senses, a man in solid black, his face masked by a chainlink mask, appears above me. I panic, but my arms and legs are strapped down. After failing to loosen the binds, I look back up and the man is gone. The whoosh of air only Capitol doors make reaches my ears. He must have left.
Only doors in the Capitol make... No. It can’t be. All the events of earlier come back to me. The arena falling apart, the tributes getting smashed by broken pieces, and that beam flying towards my head.
Another whoosh of sterilized air.
“Good. You’re awake. Now, before you freak out, I’m gonna give it to you straight.” Whoever he is, he’s cute. I have to admit that, at least. I mean, I don’t go on dates or anything, but I know an attractive person when I see them. From this angle, I get a good look at his chin. It’s chiseled and has little sections of hair he forgot to shave off. His eyes are a nice shade of brown, framed by long eyelashes. The man has doesn’t have the standard military haircut I thought was required of peacekeepers though. His hair is a mop of curls.
“I am Rudy Dolff, the leader of the Rebellion. Lying in those cots are some of your fellow competitors.” The light leaves his eyes for a split second, a touch of shame on his face. “We rescued as many as we could. The Capitol was not eager to let us swoop in and take all the tributes. But, what does matter is that we rescued a good amount of you.” His smile returns.
It all hits me at once. The rebels got me out. That’s why the arena was falling apart. I want to patch together more pieces of the puzzle, but my brain can only do so much right now. Just keeping my eyes on Rudy is a struggle.
“I-I’m sorry. Everything kind of aches right now. I-I think I need more rest. This is all... It’s all just too much to understand. I’m sorry.”
He frowns and tilts his chin toward his ear. Rudy’s thumb presses something on his earlobe. “Get me some pain pills.” Must be some weird high tech. I’ve never heard of ear-talking before.
He turns his attention back to me. “I’m afraid you can’t go back to sleep just yet...” He looks down at my chest and I burn red, but then I realize I’m dressed in a hospital uniform and there is a name tag over my heart. “Ms. Goldie.”
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Author Games: Return To Seasons
ActionAurōrae is a wild and ravenous world. Dynamic biomes dominate the landscape, and the oppressing government split their people into four different States, and under them, Districts. Author Games has visited this place before, but a lot has changed si...
