Author Games: Return To Seasons

Task Five: The Embers That Lost Their Spark - ⚛ Spring Entries ⚛

District 1 Male - HEATH HAWTHORN [5]

The sky was a soft blue in District One, a few stray clouds dotting the otherwise clear sky. Overhead, two birds chirped merrily as they flitted about the meadow. Beneath my feet were wildflowers: purple, orange, pink, yellow. Although I could feel the flowers in between my toes, and the cold dew dripping onto the tops of my feet, when I looked down, I was making no impression on the flowers beneath me. I didn't mind though, I preferred this to leaving my mark on the landscape. 

The landscape was serenely beautiful. The meadow, filled with flowers, seemed to be entirely untouched by both the Oppidium and the rebels. Only the two birds, and myself, disturbed the peace. Even the birds seemed to respect the sanctity of the area's serenity, refusing to chirp as they flew. The only sound was the wind whistling through the trees that surrounded the clearing. I stepped forward. I didn't know why. 

My foot sloshed as it entered a puddle. Frowning, I took another step forward, just so I could get out of the muddy puddle. My feet entered another puddle though, this one even deeper than the first. Another step, another puddle, until I was waist-deep in a puddle and I couldn't move. Practically eye-level, with some of the flowers, I had to crane my neck to see the birds who still flew overhead. The smaller one, whose wings were speckled with pink fledging, flew above my head, and seemed to hover there for a second. 

He chirped. 

A gunshot echoed through the meadow. 

His blood splattered on my face as he fell from the sky, spiraling downward despite how valiantly he struggled. Another chirp, this one from his partner, whose breast seemed to be stained by grass. Another gunshot, and she fell to the ground, twitching in the flowerbed. The first bird, the pink one, started chirping erratically, almost screaming for his fallen partner. He flapped his wings but he couldn't move. He looked around for someone to help him, and his eyes found mine. They were green, and shockingly human. They were mine. 

I screamed. 

A gunshot echoed through the meadow. 

*

It was almost a relief that, once I opened my eyes, I was no longer in the meadow of District One. The rebel hovercraft was little relief to me, but its coldness, its distance, was soothing to me. One of the many monitors I'd been connected to beeped loudly. At first, its beeps were nearly incessant, going off several times a second. Now, after just a few moments of me being awake and listening to the beeping, it was almost back to what I would consider normal. 

The thin curtain that separated my small quarters from everything else slid open. Rudy, who hadn't left us alone since the day we'd been rescued from the arena, was standing at the entrance. His eyes had dark shadows under them even more prominent than the red that surrounded his nose. He obviously hadn't been sleeping well, but none of us had since we had been Reaped. None of that was as prominent as the woman who stood next to him.

Although she was clearly older than almost anyone I knew, she remained about as fit as Mom and Dad. Gray hair, probably about the length of Emerald Blossom's, was tied up in a quick bun. There wasn't any makeup on her face, nothing to hide the deepest wrinkles or aging spots, so she was almost unrecognizable. It wasn't until she opened her moth that I realized who she was. "Heath," she asked softly, her tone endearing and soft. "Are you alright? We heard you yelling, and wanted to check on you."

I nodded softly at my mentor. Although she had won many years ago, before even Dad was born, she was one of the only Victors from our District who was able to mentor us. The most recent Victor, Hyacinth, was unable to get out any more than a few words since she won. They said she should get better soon, but she only left her house for official duties, like the Reapings.