hitchhiking in the hearse - d11 train

[Bella 🌻]

n o r i - ♥ - h a l l i d a y

When Ezra, Tucker, and Remi leave the justice building, it feels like all the air goes with them. I sit there for a moment, teary-eyed and hollowed out, thinking about the ones who can’t be there. Four years isn’t so long, but it’s enough to make it harder to muster up a mental image of Mom and Dad. After a while your brain takes the needle off that record so it can stop spinning obsessively at the end. Thinking about them now feels almost like looking at a picture within a dream. More of a shopping list than a picture, even.

Mom’s perfume had smelled like daisies and rubbing alcohol; the first because she loved them, the second because she’d made the perfume herself. Dad had hands like sandpaper, like baseball mitts, but he never held anything hard enough to hurt it. Mom liked raisins, as much as we’d teased her for it. Dad’s face got all twisted up when he concentrated on something–the TV, the newspaper, cooking, tying a shoe. Dad liked to play guitar, and Mom would sing about freedom. Their songs were all sorrowful minor scales with that silver-shining hopeful note threaded in.

In the end, they were full people, with lists so much longer than mine. Now I’m wondering if I’ll get burnt up too, without much to show for it.

My lips pull tight across my teeth as the peacekeepers usher me onto the train, just chewing on the bad taste left in my mouth. We step in, and I’m not sure if I should take my shoes off. I never had carpet. They wear their boots, the dirty pigs, so I take my sandals off just to show ‘em. But they leave as soon as they get there, leaving me standing with my toes sinking into the greasy fibers.

Home rolls away, not a single whistle blowing like they said in the old songs. I take a seat next to the window, pressing my temple to the crystal-clear glass as the train starts to roll backwards. When footsteps approach, I squeeze my eyes shut, not at all willing to talk to anyone right now.

But then a heavy sigh leaves my lungs and I find myself blinking up at the other unlucky kid from Eleven, throwing my hands up in the air.

“If you’re waiting to take advantage of my most vulnerable moment, this might be the time.” I glance back out the window. “Don’t think I’ve cried that much in a while.”

Folding my arms over my chest, I watch him warily. I don’t know what kept me from ignoring him. Just my upbringing, or gallows humor?

[Cato]

Diomedes Adama

Saying goodbye to district eleven is hard, it's one of the most difficult things ever, but I'm kind of excited to see more of the world. Ever since I was young, I dreamed of running far away. Never imagined it would be this way, though. I climb onto the train without a care in the world, and my mind is blown. It's huge, and it's the most beautiful scenery I've ever seen. My family would have to work for years and would only be able to afford less than a percent of this. It almost makes me angry, but being angry won't do me any good right now. It's all directed at the wrong people, the wrong place, and maybe that's why I'm stuck this way. My parents didn't do anything wrong except never notice my own sorrows, but that isn't anything for now. All I want is a chance to take it all in and see what I'm going to live in until I'm tossed away like a piece of garbage never to see the light of day again.

I take a deep breath as I walk through the train. My hands run along the wooden tables, the table cloths, everything. It's impossible to understand. How can anyone have this much money? The Capitol is richer than I ever imagined, and yet my family and friends are starving to death because we barely have anything. It's disgusting and only makes me want to retreat further away. I close my eyes and gather my composure the best I can. It's all I can think of and do at the moment, it's the only way to survive. Maybe it'll fuel me, it'll give me the strength and courage and everything else I need to make it home. Not that it matters. I shake my head and slowly move on. Sometimes I want to be alone, but this is one of those moments where I need a friend whatever that is right now seeing as my partner is truly my enemy, but I do care about her, and I want her to have a good chance to survive.

I walk into one of the cars, and it's there I see her. I don't know what to say to her or how to help her. We're both in this horrific situation, and I don't know where I'm supposed to go from here. I can't offer her help or promise her anything because I don't want to break it. I've never been good at this anyway despite soothing myself for a long time. I could talk down about myself to her, it would maybe make her feel better. But then I'm not sure. It doesn't matter, though, because she's throwing her hands up saying words that absolutely make no sense, and I take a step back. I would never bring her down. I would never destroy her. Not now, and it pisses me off that she jumps to that conclusion. I haven't even done anything to her. I wanted to help, but now I'll let her sulk. It doesn't bother me any. I'll just say a few words then leave. "I won't do anything to you. All I want is some peace and quiet."

District Eleven

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