Escape ((Heartwood))

[roroasu]

Does, Thinks, Says, Hears

Run. Have to run. Get away. I tear through the woods, the low-hanging branches slapping my face as I go. The afternoon sun sends shafts of light between the trees. The fallen leaves and twigs crack and crunch under my feet. Off in the distance I can hear some bird cry out, as if to tell me to slow down. Can't slow down. Underbrush catches my long cotton skirt and pulls at it, trying to stop me. But it's no use. Can't stop. Following a path only I can see, I charge forward. I hear my heart pounding in my ears, the blood rushing through my head. Sweat beads on my forehead and runs lines down my back, between my shoulderblades. My loose shirt is beginning to soak, clinging to my thin frame. The heat is oppressive, closing in around me, draining the energy from my body.

He will be waiting for me. Deep in my heart, I know it. After work, he'll wait for me. And I'll go. Because I have no choice. Trapped. I don't allow myself to think on it too long. If I did, I'd go mad. But somedays, like today, it all becomes too much to bear. The feeling of being ensnared. Knowing that I must endure this private hell for David and for Willow. Just to escape for a little while gives me the strength to go on. There's so little time. So I run. Deeper into the woods, away from the mill and the workers. Away from civilization, until all I can hear is my breathing and the sounds of the wildlife around me.

A flock of birds, startled by my directionless charge, takes wing in front of me. Shrieking, I pull up short and cover my face. My breath is heavy, my lungs burn with the effort to keep my body nurished. Leaning forward, my hands on my knees, I take in the scene around me. I've found myself in a small clearing, ringed by tall oaks. The soft grass surrounding me is dotted with pale flowers that insects dart between. The whole area seems like a completely different world, untouched by man. As I sink down to the ground and lean against a tree, I take stock. The bruises on my arms are finally fading, although I seem to have recieved a shallow cut across my cheek from a branch during my escape. My legs are likewise lightly scratched under the skirt. Nothing that can't be explained away.

I have an hour before I must report to the mill to work. An hour to sit and think. An hour to plan. An hour to build my strength and willpower. Closing my eyes, I lay my head back against the tree and take a deep breath, quickly lost in my own thoughts.

Tags: Heartwood | Words: 509
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[heartwood]

Does, Thinks, Says, Hears

I have many spots in the district where I go to think, free from the packs of flirtatious girls and arrogant boys. I walk carefully through the trees, there are branches hanging down, and if I’m not careful, I can scratch my face or worse, lose an eyeball. I think that happened to a kid once, I’m not sure.

I have work soon, I can tell by the way the suns positioned over the clearing just a few feet ahead. The center of the clearing is beautiful, decorated with flowers, dandelions or lilies, I’m not sure, I just know their color seems to be a more brilliant version of my pale skin. Not that I’m uninterested in beauty, but I only have about an hour and a half before work starts, and I need to find a spot to continue my writing.

I come up to a nice big Oak tree; the branches look strong enough to sustain my weight. I toss my pouch over my shoulder and begin climbing until I reach what I deem as the strongest branch. I sit, open my pouch, take the small wooden bowl, the small sack of blackberries, and I snap a twig nearby to begin my writing.

I remove a thin, self-sliced piece of bark. I had gotten good at smoothing out one of the sides for writing; after all, I’d been doing this for years. I draw a blank, today lacked inspiration, I’d already written about the Hunger Games, the suicidal drunkard, and the girl with the interesting black eyes. I begin to drift off to sleep.

I’m nearly passed out, when a girl reaches the clearing, she’s of breath, and cut on her face. At least she hasn’t lost an eyeball.

Recently, the odds of me meeting new people seem to have increased, whether I’ve wanted it or not. The girl comes, surely not noticing me, and puts her back to the tree, closing her eyes. I can’t tell if she’s trying to sleep, but if she is, she’s going to be there a while, and I have work in about an hour. I shuffle just a bit, before the smoothed out piece of bark begins to fall.

”Um, look out!” Why did I yell? It couldn’t possibly hurt that much, it’s only bark…so much for avoiding contact.

Tags: Roroasu | Words: 720
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[roroasu]

Does, Thinks, Says, Hears

“Um, look out!”

My eyes fly open and I bolt upright, into a crouch, ready to sprint if there’s danger. I look around frantically, my eyes darting about like the insects that flit from lily to lily. Everything looks alright, just as it was when I closed my eyes. Then who said that? Suddenly, something drops out of the sky and lands on the top of my head with a soft thump before bouncing to the grass. I run my fingers over the flat piece of bark before looking up, rubbing the top of my head.

To my surprise, there’s a boy in the tree, pale and not much older than me by the look of him. His dark hair is just as unruly as my own, curly and hanging in his face as he looks down at me. His expression is warm, almost apologetic. He’s definitely fit and despite his pale complexion, at home in the woods. Trying to push my heart back down into my chest where it belongs, I pick up the bark and stand, moving out from under him, my guard still up. What’s he doing out here? How long has he been there?

I wave the bark up at him, speaking quietly and evenly. “You dropped this.”

Tags: Heartwood | Words: 216
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[heartwood]

Does, Thinks, Says, Hears

“Sorry, for a second there I thought it would hurt. Then I realized it wouldn’t.”

I hoist my materials back into the bag and slink it over my shoulder. Grabbing the branch that I’m sitting on, I let my legs hang before swinging to another branch. I must look like some kind of pale monkey to this girl, but it was way better than falling. As I swing from branch to branch, I reach a distance I feel is safe to jump from. I make sure to jump a considerable distance away from her.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

I look at the bark she’s holding before digging in my back, pulling out a small bandage, but it’s still big enough to cover the cut on her face. I nod to the bark. I want it back; it takes a while to flatten it perfectly.

“I’ll trade you.”

Tags: Roroasu | Words: 149
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[roroasu]

Does, Thinks, Says, Hears

As the boy swings from branch to branch, I keep my eyes trained on him. He probably means no harm, but you can never be too careful. He seems to understand my wariness and lands a good distance away from me, approaching almost like you would a cornered animal. With my hair blown in my escape and the cuts and bruises across my skin, I must look like one. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Still tense, I keep my voice quiet as I eye him up and down. "I wasn't sleeping. Just resting my eyes." My heart still hammers in my ears from the exertion from sprinting. Part of me realizes this boy probably means me no harm, but I just can't convince myself to let my guard completely down. That's how you get hurt.

As he reaches into his pack, it seems as though the whole wood has gone silent, almost sensing the tension building. I take a step back, ready to tear off through the trees again at the first sign of trouble. Instead he produces a bandage and points towards my face. The cut on my cheek. "I'll trade you." At that point, I remember the bark in my hand and look at it, as if seeing it for the first time. Carefully I hold it out at arm's length to him and step forward, my expression carefully masked. Taking the bandage with my other hand, I nod to him. "Thanks."

Tags: Heartwood | Words: 260
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[heartwood]

Does, Thinks, Says, Hears

It seemed like we were doing something illegal. The transaction was so hesitant, and the goods were traded so gingerly that it seemed like she was afraid of me. I suppose normal people don’t just travel the forest on a whim; people in district seven are much more preoccupied with working to support their families.

I look at the bark and slip it back into my pack. I turn my gaze back to Briar. It seems like everyone I meet is sad or disinterested for some reason. This really shouldn’t surprise me; I’m this way myself. It really says a lot about the state of Panem today. I look to her arms, and they seemed to be bruised, but fading.

“Are you okay?”

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[roroasu]

Does, Thinks, Says, Hears

He keeps his distance still, but I'm accutely aware of his every movement. He's looking at my arms. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Without another thought, I pull the sleeves of my shirt down to my wrists again. I can't have him asking questions like that too much, especially if I see him again in town. "I'm fine. I guess the branches hit me a little harder than I thought." It seems a perfectly resonable explaination. After all, I did get a scrap on my face from it. Maybe it'll work. Maybe he won't dig.

Just to be sure, I turn the focus towards him. "What are you doing out here? In a tree?" I know the shift in conversation is awkward. It was less than subtle, but just maybe enough to throw him off my appearance. I watch him as I place the small bandage to my face, hissing softly as my cheek stings.

Tags: Heartwood | Words: 167
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[heartwood]

Does, Thinks, Says, Hears

I guess that was a fair enough answer. She didn’t really seem to be the type to avoid branches; and the cuts and bruises proved it. What made her run so hard in the first place? Before I really have time to think about it, she asks me a question.

“What are you doing out here? In a tree.”

While it was a slightly hostile tone, I imagine she just didn’t want elaborate, and I’m not the type to try to force her. As for the question, it wasn’t one that I wasn’t used to hearing. I spend a lot of time in trees; I guess I liked spending my time in the branches, instead of on the ground near the stumps. I’ve always hated my name.

“I come here to think, and to write. And…I guess I like climbing.”

I watch as she puts the bandage on her face. People should really be more careful. I realize we haven’t introduced ourselves yet.

"My name is Stump."

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[roroasu]

Does, Thinks, Says, Hears

The birds in the trees have begun to sing again, finally thinking the danger has passed. That sound seems to relax me as I push my sweat dampened hair from my face. "I'm Briar." I realize I've seen him before. He works at the mill with all the rest of us, but mostly out in the timber woods. It makes sense that he loves climbing. I imagine that's what they have him doing most of the time. But writing? That's a new one.

Does he recognize me? Does he know Caleb? Will he tell him he saw me in the woods? Suddenly that fear grips my heart again. The idea of Caleb knowing I was running off and the undeniable punishment that would bring. But none of that fear reaches my face as I look at the pale boy before me. There's something about his stance, his manner, that sends signals to every part of my brain that I am in no danger from him. Still on can never be too careful. "You work at the mill, right? I think I've seen you around." It's a simple question, but one that could hold everything. One that could quickly change this kind boy's status in my head. I pray he doesn't answer wrong. I could use some friends. A support structure of my own for when David, Willow and I leave.

Tags: Heartwood | Words: 251
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