SONG: Dreaming Of A White Christmas
District 12 Female - NEVE OPHANIM [3]
A white new year was a symbol of luck, as they used to say in Twelve. Whenever snow fell on the first of each year, it was supposed to be an omen of prosperity and good fortune. Yet as the white flakes fell in droves and the resources slowly depleted into nothing, the new year did not signify the prospect of luck, but of another year of low food and nonexistent crops of herbs. Everyone felt the stress of the inability to import food and export their own livelihood, and the Ophanim family was of no exception.
Neve, her white hair nearly matching the flakes that descended from the never ending grey sky, sat with her nose against the frosted window. A weak fire lit the room behind her, sputtering ash of wet log that made the house have a lingering smell of pine smoke. Adair was at a friend’s house—one less mouth to feed for the night—and Neve felt her absence greatly. Sure, there was Yule, who was three years her junior at five, but his years made all the difference between Neve’s loneliness and his inability to comprehend the situation at hand. Her grandmother provided her company, though. A fragile old woman with hair that seemed as pale and grey as herself, she sat in the weathered old rocking chair near the fire, knitting with the final remains of the yarn that was in the home. Eliora, with her weak hands yet strong and caring heart, looked up from her work—mittens for little Yule—with sad eyes, she looked towards the thin Neve who sat so innocently near the window. Never had the Great Frost been so long or as cold as this, and she pitied that her grandchildren were suffering. No planes or trucks had been able to get through the constant bombardment of snow, ice, and frost, for the last five months.
“Neve?” Eliora called, setting her knitting onto the small table that had not yet been used for kindling. Neve turned to look at her, her hair swinging behind her so that as she pushed herself off the ledge her hair stuck on the frost-lined pane. Eliora stretched her arms out, and Neve scrambled over, eager to sit on her grandma’s lap. Protective arms rocked Neve back and forth as if in rhythm with the fire and the snow. “Neve,” she said, tenderly stroking the small girl’s hair, “Where do you suppose your grandpa and brother are? We should get looking, and then maybe after, you and I can help your mother with dinner.” Dinner that consisted of the very last potatoes, strawberries and herbs left. After tonight, Eliora’s son would have to endure the struggle of finding food that everyone in the District was hungry for. He would have to find enough food to feed a family of seven.
As Eliora and Neve walked hand in hand, strong hand in small hand, out of the small, homey, living room, Neve thought of how even if she was often hungry, how thankful she was for her grandma. A hug from her could make everything better And so as they stepped into the kitchen that was nearly barren of food, Neve gave a side hug to Eliora, her hand meeting protruding ribs that held such a loving heart.
The lone pot that was held on the stove boiled with melting snow that was to be in an hour a pot of boiled potatoes. Her mother, Noelle, a beautiful woman in the normal months, was sat at the kitchen table, scribbling notes onto an already filled piece of paper. She gave a weary glance up towards Eliora, seeming to avoid Neve’s curious stare. Her mother gave an almost indistinguishable shake of her head towards Eliora, and at that moment Eliora gave Neve’ hand a small squeeze as if an act of finality. Neve looked up, her large eyes meeting Eliora’s watery smile.
Neve turned away, giddy with naïve happiness and the remembrance of the task at hand, breaking from the grip of her grandmother. “Mama, where are the boys? Can grandpa come play a game with me? He promised he would teach me how to play that chess game that’s on the mantel!”
Noelle broke out of her attention on the paper, and with a distant look to Neve, responded, “They’re just outside for a bit, but dinner is almost ready as soon as I put the potatoes on; so don’t you go looking for them.” Her mother, once radiant like the stars her grandmother so loved to talk about, now held the eyes of a dying one. No one in her family wasn’t hungry, but Neve thought the hunger to be only a temporary thing. Even if her mother told her the other day that the neighbour’s young boy, Evis, had passed, Neve still thought of her sheltered world as the nicest place in all of Twelve.
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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...
