choose what stays and what fades away// tsiuri&georgie

[d11a tsiuri dermott ☕ minie]

I’d like to believe that Irena had found dog in perfect condition. He was sitting there happily by the post, maybe Barnie would have even put out a bowl of water out while he waited. Unlike myself, dog was a patient creature. He would always be there in the morning when I came home from a long shift, lying with me in bed as I cried out all the frustration. Big puppy dog eyes and I swore he would smile from time to time when he knew I needed it.

Guilt washed over me when I came to understood I might have taken him for granted. Told myself I was doing him a favor by never claiming he belonged to me. Scared that anytime I dared think of something as my own, it would be ripped away from my fingers in a matter of moments.

That’s the hidden violence of trauma; found in patterns you cannot begin to fathom until it is a little too late.

My fingers grazed the covers of books beholding a beauty that could only be poisonous. A reminder of the riches of the capitol, dangling the privilege in front of us as they prepare us for slaughter. I did not belong in the library. Too rotten of a person, decaying away in self loathing longing for something that was never to be mine again.

I missed everything I never had.

And everything I could have wanted was found between the pages in these books.

One of them open on a wooden lecture. Prompted open to a page that had me laughing in bittersweet memory. I could have cried, but I don’t think that I am capable anymore. A portrait of a dog, it looked hand pained in the light. Beige and white blending together to replicate its fur, the creature in the book maybe a little bit bigger than dog. He looked more at peace, probably did not have to wonder if anyone would come back home every time someone left. Dog really did deserve better.

There were footsteps behind me, one of the small girls from six. A child, the older of the two.

“I have a dog back at home” I contemplated my sentiment, but there really was nothing worth elaborating to a stranger. “Looks a bit like that one in the book.” It was quite silly how I as explaining myself to a little girl who did not ask for an explanation. Even more ironic that a few years ago I would complain about people and their pets. Never getting why people cared so much until dog was forced into my life.

“You got a pet?” I asked trying to shift the focus away from me. I hated talking about myself, I had always rather talked about someone else’s misery, not that I was hoping the kid had anything to complain about.

ELEGANT

[d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel]

                                                                                      

G E O R G I E
C H A M

                                                                                      

There must be something in here about snapping turtles. Georgie runs her finger across the titles of the books that are at her eye level. She wants to learn about a deadlier version of Tortoise. Not that Tortoise is a turtle. Her dad gets that mixed up all the time. Tortoise is far from a monstrous mutt, the only thing he destroys is lettuce leaves.

Now what is she going to do with the information once she has it?

Maybe ask Uncle Teddy to sponsor her a few snapping turtles so she can set them loose into the arena…it is an idea!

Since discovering the library, she has spent more time here than in the actual training center. Seems a more enjoyable place than the other one that is filled with sweaty big kids.

There is nothing on shelled beasts that she can see, and she is just about to ask a girl much taller than her to look but she is shown a book with a picture of a dog. A dog. Seems a very normal kind of pet. Not exotic like her reptile or the koala that she used to share a house with way back. Now that’s a story she needs to share with someone! Though she is sure Uncle Teddy has already told them.

”Yeah I got a pet. He’s exotic, not like a dog!” Georgie recalls the boring lecture from Flynn about all of the other tributes, this girl is from Eleven. ”Have you got tortoises in Eleven? He has a shell, not furry like a dog. Really rough but he loves strawberries.” Maybe a tortoise in Six is just as bizarre. There’s not much wildlife for Georgie to catch back home, most of them end up in test labs anyway.

Georgie pulls her nose out of the book the girl shows her. She peers behind the girl, just making sure she is not hiding the book she is looking for. It is not there. Georgie shakes her head and taps her chin.

”What’s your dog called?” She bets it has a proper name, unlike Tortoise.

Dars.

[d11a tsiuri dermott ☕ minie]

Tortoises sounded like the kind of animals that would only exist in between the pages of the books in the library. District eleven, unlike our counterparts in ten, did not have that many animals. Our fields populated with crops, only the wealthiest of the landowners able to afford horses to help on the land. My mom and sisters worked on a farm tending to the horses. I grew up with them, but that was about as close to an exotic animal that we had.

Dogs on the other hand were a luxury. Marcus hadn’t been rich, but he had a celebrity last name that probably helped. I never asked how he could afford dog and I never questioned it afterwards. We got by and that was what mattered.

Something this little girl did not seem to know much about. I’m pretty sure she had just called me poor in her own strange way.

“Well, a tortoise would love district eleven; we got plenty of fresh strawberries. Probably taste much better than the ones you have because their straight from the fields. But no, we don’t have anything of the kind.”

I pushed the book towards her allowing her a better look of the dog look alike before she continued her line of question.

A laugh escaped my lips as she asked for his name. She seemed to ask all the right questions, and maybe who knows, she just might understand the answer. Even I it was just for her entertainment, the sake of something lighthearted amidst the dread of it all. I continued to entertain the child.

“It’s a bit silly” I spoke as if I were letting her in on some kind of secret. “His name is dog, or at least it is for now. He isn’t really mine, but I take care of him now and never got around to giving him a name. I promised I would after the reaping, and I have a few contenders but honestly dog suits him pretty well.”

I closed the book and tucked it underneath my arm.

“C’mon I’ll show you where I found the animal books and you can show me what a tortoise looks like, I can’t really imagine what it looks like. What’s your tortoise’s name?” I asked.

ELEGANT

[d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel]

                                                                                      

G E O R G I E
C H A M

                                                                                      

”Err some of the strawberries we have don’t come from fields.” Georgie scrunches up her face at the thought of them. There’s an obvious difference in taste, even if her dad denies that the genetically modified crops are no different. ” They’re grown or maybe just cloned…in laboratories!”

So many kids have teased that Georgie is a test tube baby. Her mom’s story isn’t as public as her dad’s. Just the name Aeryn Kight, a girl whose brother died in an arena. The Hunger Games really runs in the family. It better start running fast, well away from Georgie!

The other girl shows off the picture of a dog in the book and Georgie does try hard to look interested. A serious ooo that’s fascinating face hangs like a loose mask on her face, even a finger on her chin adds to the act. She is just not interested in dogs.

Even dogs called Dog.

But the Dog the dog has found Georgie a new friend, someone taller than her that can reach the higher shelves.

”Thanks. I’ll follow! They’re real neat animals. Imagine being able to carry your whole home all the time. Life would be so easy! They’re really slow though…” Georgie exclaims as she follows behind, holding her tongue on the reveal of her pet’s name. Maybe they could find the section on guides of giving proper names to pets. Except Tortoise has been Tortoise for ten years, there’s no way he could learn another name.

”My tortoise is called Shelly.” That’s kind of true, ”On some days, it is one of nicknames because of his shell. But his proper name, the name on his egg certificate…” Georgie taps her finger on her lips again, recalling the certificate she made her dad’s secretary write up a few years after she got the reptile. ”Is Tortoise. My tortoise’s name is Tortoise.”

Then she recalls the reaping list of names as she looks up and down the girl with the book tucked under her arm. ”Your name is Tsiuri? Unless it is secretly just human…Human the human!” Even that makes her giggle a little.

Dars.