I ~ Need \\ A FAVOR ;; of you (Shrimp)

[Arrow]

(Sorry for crap post, I'm sorta in a rush. I'm going to start writing in first person after this for all my characters, for some reason it just comes easier with me.)

Emeralda Clarke




If you only knew
I'm hanging by a thread
The web I spin for you

I'd sacrifice my beating heart
Before I loose you

The District was slowly returning to life again. Everything was getting warmer, getting brighter, becoming more welcoming- at least, the natural gifts in our District were. Some things, like my rebel daughter, seemed to never change. I was getting anxious. I had no idea what to do with her anymore- I had tried every single method, yet she never seemed to calm down. She was always vandalizing, getting into fights, and many other things that were bound to land her as an avox some day, and the thought terrified me. I didn't want to loose my daughter, my only daughter, and all I had left of Rigel to the Capitol.

I made my way down the streets of our District, trying to enjoy the nicer weather as much as I could, without the ever present thought of my daughter lurking around in my brain. The sun felt warm on my skin, but I was focused on something else- a final idea that I had that I would attempt to tame the wild animal that was my daughter- Galaxy Clements.

I had only met her a few days before, but something told me that I should try to convince her to befriend my rebellious daughter, and see if the girl could bring Rubiya back into the light. That was my one hope- I'm not really sure what I see in Galaxy, but I was willing to try my newly formulated plan on her. I hoped all would go well, and Rubiya wouldn't beat her up.

I was scanning the streets for the girl- if I was correct, she was richer than the average citizen of the district, and should stick out. I should have no trouble picking her out, at least I hoped. I was exhausted, again, and didn't really feel like going through work to find my test subject. Finally, I found her, sitting on a bench.

"Galaxy!" I called, waving one of my arms extended in the air, hoping she'd hear my excited call and see me, Emeralda Clarke, the woman who was the Mother of the infamous fourteen year old rebel, Rubiya Clarke.

I decided I should make my was towards the crowds of my fellow District citizens and sit by her- I was getting a little impatient, and wanted to get this over with. I wanted to discover a solution to my daughter's rambunctious ways of life soon, or she might be punished severely.

I shoved my way through the crowds of people, shouldering a few here and there, or just saying a polite "excuse me." I could see Galaxy's bench getting closer to me. I finally reached the little wooden spot and stood behind it, not going to sit down until I was invited.

"I need you to do me a favor."

I said, smooth, strong, and clear. I was serious about this. I wanted to save my daughter from the harsh punishment she would knowingly get if she got any worse that she was now. It was time to take a stand and protect her, even though I try so hard, and she refuses my help, she won't refuse Galaxy's, as long as she doesn't know who sent her sudden friend. That was, if Galaxy even agreed to my plan. Knowing just who she'd have to befriend, it could be risky, but I was willing to do it.

I stood there, the slight breeze blowing my hair as I waited for her response. Maybe I should tell her about it first. Tell her about the plan to save my daughter, or at least, perform another brilliant attempt at doing so. I had a bad feeling this would fail, just like anything else I had ever tried, but I needed to try. You always need to try before you know you will fail or succeed.

[shrimp]

Small slapping noises were heard as I meander along the narrow pathways of the District. I was used to this by now - dirty surroundings and the tattered remains of people no longer frightened me. In fact, I had taken to bringing an extra piece of bread, some money - really anything along my walk in case someone tried to jump me (or if I was feeling particularly generous, which was often the case). Father's job makes good money after all; I haven't really had to deal with hunger like others. So why not give what's not needed to said hungry people? I mean, that' just my logic. It may be a bit discombobulated, a tad bit out there (I mean, really - who gives things to others in District 6 besides those drug dealers?), but it makes me happy.

Out of the corner of my eye I notice something lurking in the shadows, so I turned around. Well, I probably shouldn't have done that for I'm forced up against a wall with a blade to my throat, and the man seemed rather hysterical, demanding that he be given something. Probably money, maybe food. I was used to this so I wasn't showing any fear - that's the worst thing to do after all. So quickly and quietly I take the small amount of money that I have, as well as a large roll and hand it to him. He still doesn't seem completely satisfied though, although it seems that most of his fears have been allayed. He wants something else. Well, I really don't have anything else, and when I state that I get a shallow cut on my neck, causing me to grimace in pain.

Fine, he wants it that way, he'll get it that way. One knee to the crotch - that's all it takes for him to crumple, and for me to go on my merry way. "Have a nice day now, ya hear?" I call over my shoulder as I exit the dark alleyway and head towards the District Square. A bunch of people have already gathered - today there are only two tributes left, and while ours have already perished (Poor Phoenix. Poor Evan), the two favorites are the kind that many from this District like - not careers. If Anastasia or Maia or Winona, or York or Azulon or Snip (I make it a point to at least remember the deceased ones names) had made it to this point, some people in the District would be pretty pissed off, I guess. In my opinion, it's a bit like cheating, the way that those eight would have been trained to get ahead.

I make my way to the bench, rubbing my neck as I do so. Gosh, that actually really hurt, not gonna lie. And I actually don't even have a chance to think about it much more because I hear my name being called across the square. To my knowledge, I'm the only girl in District 6 whose name is Galaxy, so immediately my head turns to the location of the noise to see - oh, hi Mrs. Clarke! I met her recently, but I like the lady; she's pretty nice and very polite and one of those strong kind of people (a bit like my mother, I think) - in fact, I might even want to be like her when I grow up. I want to be the kind of person who won't take any backtalk from anybody, and I feel like she's that kind of person. She's walking over as I'm noticing that the blood from my wound has trickled down my neck, and I change the angle that I'm looking at her so the wound's less noticeable (or perhaps I'm so oblivious that I've made it more visible to her).

"I need you to do me a favor." My eyebrows raise upwards in disbelief - Mrs. Clarke wants me to do her a favor? She's like, one of the most awesomest people in the entirety of District 6! Of course I'll help her. I shift over to my right so she can sit (and so she can't see the cut), beckoning for her to join me. "Sure thing, Mrs. Clarke," I say, my voice seeming to be brimming with excitement with the prospects of making her proud, sort of (wow, I really must have no life I guess. I really just hang out with Nova most of the time anyways). "What is it that you need?"

[Arrow]

This was going to be hard. In my mind I had never thought that I would have to come crawling to someone else to assist me in my deepest of troubles, yet here I was, begging to Galaxy Clements to help me. I wasn't literally begging, but I could feel it inside of me. I knew I would end up looking pathetic if she said no, probably dropping to my knees and gazing up at her, desperation in my eyes, and begging her. Begging was not something to make a positive mark on one's reputation, though I think mine vanished years ago, upped and danced away into the creamy fog.

I could see Galaxy, her long red hair shimmering in the sun. She seemed a bit distracted as a neared her. She seemed to see me though, and scooted over to allow me to sit next to her on the bench. Willingly, I sat down next to her. my legs felt like jello. I had been walking around, not just searching for Galaxy, all morning. Trying to find where Rubiya went, hoping to stop her from getting in trouble. I ended up walking a lot, sometimes even running. I was exhausted. After I asked my question, Galaxy promptly responded, which was nice. She was a delightful person to dive into conversation with.

"Sure thing, Mrs. Clarke," she said sweetly, gazing at me. She might reconsider what she said once she learned exactly what deed the favor would need to carry out. I couldn't blame her if she refused to do it. I couldn't blame anyone, even the most compassionate person I've ever met to turn it down. Rubiya was something else- trying to straighten her up might get ugly. Very, very ugly.

"What do you need?"

My heart leaped to my throat as tiny beads of sweat formed on my forehead. I was afraid to ask. I didn't like being rejected, and my mind was telling me that Galaxy, once she learned just what the favor in question was, she would back away and run away. I couldn't blame her if she did. I bit down on my tongue, afraid to ask. The right way to say the words didn't seem to come to mind anymore. So frustrating, it was. Why couldn't I seem to think of anything to say to Galaxy? It didn't make sense. I was usually so fluent with words.

"Well, erm, uh..." was all that came out. I was straining not to run away myself. I just couldn't think of the right thing to say. I had to word this really carefully, or Galaxy might just reconsider the sure thing the said earlier before I was even done talking. That wouldn't be good.

"Look, you know my daughter, Rubiya, right?" It didn't seem like a very good thing to say, but I said it anyways. She had to know Rubiya. Being richer than the average District Six citizen, she must have had a few encounters with the infamous fourteen year old rebel, Rubiya Clarke. She got in trouble for stealing, so I was sure that Galaxy knew her a little too well.

I choked on the next words to say. I couldn't think of any words left to say. I wanted to stay and see if Galaxy would even stand to hear the mention of her. Galaxy seemed to be a pretty self controlled girl, which I was thankful for, but if Rubiya stole from her family, she might get mad at Rubiya's mention.

"I wouldn't be surprised if she stole from your family, so I can't blame you if you decline your previous offer," I said, trying to sound as polite as possible. Getting this out was going to take longer than I thought.

"I need you to befriend her. Try to straighten her up. She's getting into so much trouble, I'm afraid the peacekeepers will kill her or avox her or something, and that is nothing no mother wants for her child. You might not want to, considering what it might to do your reputation, but please, for me, do it. She needs a good role model, which I seem to have failed to perform."

sounded a bit more desperate than I had intended. Actually, way more desperate than I had intended. Would that certain tone of pleading and desperation in my voice shatter Galaxy's image of me as a strong, independent, and compassionate woman? Probably, but I willed it to not. I willed her to see past it, and forgive me. To perform the favor.