Hearts Out to Dry (open)

[Yzma]

The mousy-haired girl was just let out of school, making a beeline way straight for the wheat fields, bordered by coniferous trees. Approaching the fields, Anemone made sure to hide herself in the shadows, careful not to allow any of the field workers discover her presence.

She was forging for herbs for her dad’s clinic. Not stealing. Forging. Technically, all that grew in the district belonged to the Capitol, but next to all injured plowers, ailing elders, and even the occasional ill peacekeeper came to the Harrison Clinic for treatments. And ever since her mother had left, keeping the clinic supplied and well stocked had become a challenge. With her father turning to alcohol to numb his pain and being drunken three-fourths of the day, it became next to impossible, and the clinic’s business began to spiral down.

And that is what brought the fourteen year old to the base of a fir tree her father scribbled down in his herbal information book as a “Heateater”. The round pinecones that grew towards the top of the tree could be mashed and turned into a poultice to eliminate fever. Anemone accepted the responsibility of gathering what her father could not himself.

Scaling the tree, Anemone swung herself unto the first and lowest branch of the tree, hanging the strap of her backpack securely onto it. Scanning the surrounding field, the nearest worker was a good fifty yards or so away from her, well out of earshot should a certain girl noisily clatter up a conifer. Not that Anemone was noisy. The squirrels made more racket than she did.

Anemone easily swung herself upward inaudibly, tier after tier. She had been climbing for years, knowing how to test a branch for its stability and ability to hold her weight in under two seconds. In less than thirty seconds she was seventy feet up the tree, gripping its skinny trunk with her left hand when she halted. A dull pain shot through her upper chest. Unbuttoning the first three buttons on her makeshift dress she fastened out of her older brother Sage’s flannel, Anemone slowly peeled back the sleeve over her left shoulder to see how her bash was coming along.

It had been a good month. Her father had only gotten drunk seven times and beat her once, leaving a large, plum-colored, fist-sized bruise on her left clavicle. It was larger than most of the bruises she received, but it only pained her when it, for example, thrashed against a solid tree limb.

Anemone looked up the length of the tree; it must’ve been at least a hundred-twenty feet tall, and she still had a good forty feet or so to climb. Nevertheless, the brown-haired girl sat down on a moderately sturdy branch, swinging her feet back and forth, looking out onto the field. Hugging the tree’s trunk, she emancipated a sigh.

She was a lucky one, wasn’t she? Sure, she had to face her father’s occasional hand, but most of the nights Anemone could run and hide from the thrashings. The majority of her peers at school had one meal a day and had to harvest late into the cold night. You couldn’t run away from hunger and fatigue.

No, Anemone decided to herself, I am one of the lucky ones. I live in town. I have enough to eat. I am a lucky one.
The girl absentmindedly reached into her “dress” pocket and retrieved a piece of hemp twine. I am one of the lucky ones… she reminded herself as she tied up her dull brown hair into a high ponytail.

But as much as she told herself that, as good as a liar she was, she couldn’t bring herself to believe it. Not once, she thought, furiously tugging at twine and hair, not once did dad ever thank me for gathering materials for him. And with a particularly angry jerk, the stretch of hemp uncoiled from her hair, descending helplessly to the ground far below.

Anemone released a groan and began to meticulously make her way down.

But then again, he never asked.

Her father had hardly spoken ten words to Anemone since she was eight, the year her mother abandoned the Harrisons and the drunken beatings began.

Scaling down, tier after tier, almost plummeting when a sharp twig had nestled itself into her clavicle bruise and the fourteen year old had lost her grip, Anemone hovered twenty feet above the soft grassy ground. As she was prepared to leap down unto the last few tree limbs, she heard the slightest crack of a twig and instantly placed her back flat against the tree’s trunk, submerging herself in the shadows. Too afraid to peer out into the light at her company, Anemone convinced herself it must’ve been a wild rabbit or ferret. Just about to swing down unto the last set of tiers, the young girl saw the faintest outline of a foot in the corner of her green eyes. A human foot.

Please, not a peacekeeper, she begged inside the confines of her mind. Anybody but a peacekeeper.

Perhaps she wasn’t one of the lucky ones, after all.

[Nyxxa]

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Satin quietly wandered in the empty forest near the field her mom used to work. Used to. She got caught in this very forest, hiding from her angry boss. The peacekeepers had whipped her and sent her to a harsh, barren field with much, much crueler bosses. Satin almost never saw her mom again. She was always working through the entire day, and when her mother came home she just occasionally took a parcel of their food which was very little, and went to sleep in the old pile of hay that served as their bed. Satin had snuck painfully and carefully out of work a couple of times to try to make something out of what had happened, but never could.
Carefully weaving through the trees, she pealed off her ripping boots. Less noise, i'm quieter this way. She began to put them away into her sack and began to walk again, but apparently her getting distracted by the boots made her lose her balance.
Just for a second, Satin fell forward and hit a fallen branch, cracking it under her bare feet. If anyone heard... well, if anyone heard she'd end up in the same place as her mother. Quietly, she whispered,
"Oww" and pulled a splinter out of her foot. When she looked back up, she noticed something for a second. At first it didn't really register, but when she looked up again she saw a girl quietly peering in her direction. She almost screamed, but covered her mouth.
Am I in trouble? Could a girl this young be a peacekeeper? What if she is a peacekeeper? Since my mom already got in trouble, will I be sent to the Detention Ward? What if she's not a peacekeeper but she reports me to them? What if --
Wait a minute.
What is she doing here?

[Goren]

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From his perch, Goren watched the two now frightened girls below as they tried to remain unexposed to the other. He believed that area of forest was his own to secretly explore. This was a place he could go to and just find peace. Now, it seemed all of District Twelve were there climbing the same trees or roaming around aimlessly trying to avoid the notice of a Peacekeeper. He wondered if he should alert him to his presence or just let them discover each other and head on their merry way.

Choosing the former, he started to make his way down from the sixty foot height branch by branch silently. The anger growing inside him about the intrusion elicited whispered profanities which was a bit surprising considering he never did so. Why did they have to choose that particular section of the forest? Wasn't there enough forest to go around? People weren't exactly his favorite thing, and little girls that thought it a good idea to traipse around his hideaway gave validity to his misanthropy.

Just before lowering himself down to a branch above the girls' head, he stopped. Going about this the right way was important, he realized. Startling them could end in screams of fright which then would definitely bring the overly eager Peacekeepers running. No one needed or wanted that. Not sure how to proceed, he decided to hang back and let things play out. It was surely about to get interesting.

[Keek]

"I'm surprised I haven't got in trouble for muttering to myself..." Aven was sitting in a tree with her arms crossed, staring out at the orchard stretched around her for miles. She was chewing, irritated, on her bottom lip and glaring at nothing. Recently, her brother had taken the time to lecture her about how even if she was traipsing around the orchard, unattended, she couldn't eat the apples off the trees. All the food belonged to the Capitol and if she were to be caught she'd be in a lot of trouble. "Right..." She muttered, still glaring. "Unless its in my mouth. There should be a rule that if my tongue touches it, its mine." She then proceeded to think that if that rule was true, she'd probably lick everything.

So she was reprimanded by the Peacekeepers and her brother now. Peacekeepers. What a joke. The only peace they were keeping was for themselves. Maybe it was fitting name, then. They kept the peace, or hoarded it. Aven would've given anything to prank a Peacekeeper (And get away with it) but she did know her place. In fact, the raven haired girl shivered at the thought of being caught. She was no fool. Her moment of fear caused her muscles to relax and she sighed. Aven knew her brother was only worried about her. She just hated getting a lecture from anyone. It seemed no matter where you turned, you were being reprimanded for something or other. However, she shrugged, deciding to let it no longer bother her. She looked up into the tree, eyeing the apples.
No matter how angry at her brother she had been, she was now wary of taking one. Even with no one around.
But...wait, there was someone around! Aven jumped up into a standing position on the branch, unsure if she was even allowed to roam the orchards after working hours. There were definitely voices. Girls, Aven guessed. She jumped from one branch to the other in the direction of them, cautiously and quietly before settling nearby. She was right. Two girls and...a boy? There was a boy in the trees. Did the girls know he was even present?
Aven grinned. It took about three seconds for her to make up her mind as she leaped as close to the boy as she could get through the trees. "...Boo!" She said just loud enough to startle, dangerously close to the boy above the ground.

[Goren]

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Still silently pondering if he should make his presence known, Goren settled on the branch above the girls. It was quite amusing watching them figure out if they were in for trouble from the Peacekeepers whilst trying (and failing) to remain as still and silent as they could. Even though it irritated him to have people invade *his* space, he couldn't help being a little intrigued as to why they had chosen that section of the forest. The reason he had chose it was because it was pretty far from the sight of the Peacekeepers and he felt he could be left alone. The latter wasn't exactly true anymore.

As he got lost in his own thoughts about the scene before him, out of nowhere came a "Boo!" that actually made him lose his balance. Just as he stated fall, he caught a glimpse of a dark-haired girl grinning from another branch of the tree he had been in. Granted he wasn't that far from the ground, Goren knew his landing wasn't going to be a pleasant one. Bracing himself for the fall he landed just beyond the trunk of the tree flat on his stomach. Luckily the leaves and grass below cushion his fall.

Jumping up and brushing himself off, he forgot about the girls he'd been watching. On the verge of full-blown anger, he just barely remembered to keep in his voice down as he 'whisper-yelled' back up at the girl grinning down at him. That grin of pure mischief made things even worse. Pranks like that could blow all the cover the four of them had and bring on the wrath of the Peacekeepers.

"Hey! What are you playing at? I could have gotten hurt!" Goren said as he checked himself over with his hands. "That's not funny you know!" He motioned for her to come down.