This Too Shall Pass {Cass}

[Danny]

You know you can't keep letting it get you down.
And you can't keep dragging that dead weight around.
If there ain't all that much to love around,
Better run like hell when you hit the ground.
When the morning comes.

Tonight, I have to go babysit.

It wasn't me who signed up for it, it was my lousy parents. "Oh, honey, we thought it would be good for you to get out of the house." That's pretty ridiculous, I mean half of the time I'm not home. Sure, most of that time is occupied by me wandering the streets like a lost soul. That's what I am though, right? A misguided presence who doesn't know left from right, up from down, and honestly doesn't give two shits about it anyways. Ever since I was thirteen, life has been complicated. A grown-up game of connect-the dots, except I think some of the dots are numbered wrong. I'm sure, eventually, I'll see the big picture. I just hope it comes into focus soon. "Okay," I agreed. "What time?" "Six."

My eyes, tired and grass-green, frantically search for a clock. Implanted into the copper-colored wall, I spot it. The big hand's on the... 6. The smaller hand is on the... 5. "Mom! When... when were you planning on telling you this?" She starts to blush, and I can't tell if she wants to laugh or apologize. Apparently, she wants to do both. "I'm sorry," she snorts. "It's just... if I told you before, you would be able to cancel. Now... you can't change your mind." Although that was coy, and I was a bit jealous of the thought she put into it, I was pretty pissed. No use in arguing, though. "But, you're making twenty dollars per hour, and you're gonna be there till nine-thirty. You're gonna be making... seventy dollars." See, I don't get an allowance because of the lack of chores I do, soe when I heard seventy dollars filter through her mouth, my jaw dropped to the floor. And, I'm sure I'll get a tip. Before, I wasn't to keen on going, now, I'd rather be at some strangers house than this place. I kiss my mom good-bye, bringing a book with me.

From what my mom told me, there are three kids: Connor, Amy, and Silvia. Their parents are going out to a nice dinner and then a play. They should be back at nine-thirty, but no matter what, I'm not to leave the house until they get back. And, for my convenience: they live right around the corner. And you know what else she told me? "There'll be a girl there with you, don't get any ideas..." And then she laughed. I'm still puzzled about why she laughed. It's probably me being paranoid, but I'm almost certain that it's because she knows I can't get a girl.

I wonder who coined that term, get. It has a few meanings in this situation. The prominent one, the obvious one is "doing the dirty." I haven't done it yet (at least with someone else).

You can't stop these kids from dancing.
Why would you want to?
Especially when you're already getting yours.
'Cause if your mind don't move and your knees don't bend,
Well don't start blaming the kids again.

As I round the corner, the landscape starts to subtly shift. My house, which could be considered average for a three-person family, looks about as small as a mouse does when next to an elephant. These houses are like giants. For the second time today, my jaw drops at the lawns as green as my eyes, for the garbage-free curbs. The number of the house I'm supposed to go to is 635. I made sure to bring a watch with me, just to keep track with time. According to my watch - because I'm not too certain it's synchronized - I have ten more minutes. I sigh out of relief, because the house to my left says 437, and I'm assuming it'll take me a while to reach my destination. The weather's slowly dipping, but I can tell. Goosebumps come and go like waves crashing, and so do shivers. Eventually, I reach the house. And, according to my watch, I have five minutes to spare. I would wait outside, plan out everything I'm going to do, but it's pretty cold out here, and the temperature is only lowering.

I flinch as my knuckles hit the wooden doors, taking in more pain than expected. It takes One... Two... Three... Four... Five... Six... Seven... Eight. Eight seconds. "You must be Lyle," the man concludes, offering his hand for a good ol' shaking. I nod and give his hand a firm welcoming. "Eve - the girl you're gonna be working with - should be here any second." I nod, again, and study the guy up and down. Button-up shirt tucking away some flab. Brown hair, glasses. An Average Joe. After a few seconds of just standing there idly, his wife comes to the door. "Hi, Liam, I'm Mrs. Wael, nice to meet you." My name isn't Liam, as far as I can tell, but I'm not going to dare correct that woman. She's... hot. Hi. It's uh... um... Nice to, uh, meet you." Good thing she doesn't reach her hand out, because my palms are sweating bullets.

Usually, I don't get like this around girls, but the way Mrs. Wael's body is shaped, like the curve of a glass bottle. The way her breasts are pushed against her dress, the way her but pokes out in the back. "Okay, we're gonna leave now. Just so you know, Silvia has the brown hair. Amy has the red hair. Connor has... well he's a boy." I thank them and tell them their children are safe under my watch.

At least I hope.

When the morning comes.
When the morning comes.
Let it go, this too shall pass.
Let it go, this too shall pass.
You know you can't keep letting it get you down.

[/blockquote]

[cass]

Ah, ah, ah
Oh-oh-oh-a-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-a-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-a-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-a-oh-oh
You've got these little things,
That you've been running from

Eve, he said.

No one calls me Eve, my name is Evening Rhode, Evening or Eva, never ever Eve, unless you have a death wish.

You see I grew up in a very religious family, but I’m not religious, I am anything, but religious. I don’t believe in God. I think my mother was trying to be smart when she called me Evening. I think she was trying to be oh so clever, naming me after the lady that started the human race. No. She was wrong; oh she was so very wrong. To me that name is a curse, to me it is as though she expects me to be someone I am not. It is as if she wants me to be Eve. But I am not, I will not, I will be me. And being me means not being her, it means breaking all the rules.

”Eve.”

The name dripping from his lips, it was like poison, and it made me want to choke, to spit and hit this man’s face. 'Tis what he said as he asked if I could do his job for him. He had a rather nice face too. It was long and smooth, kind of like a models, it had that certain feminine angle to it, ya’know with the high cheekbones, high arching eyebrows and messy crop of hair? Well, it was one of those kinds of faces and right now it would like a hell of a lot better with my fist in it. I can just imagine my fist hitting his face, the slow mo version where his head tilts back and that bit of surprised spittle escapes his perfect, soft delicate pink lips. Oh. I would love to mess up those pretty little lips of his, I bet you they have been used for nothing else, but kissing that perfect wife of his.

Because seriously that lady was really pretty. I mean like she had the ass of like a goddess, and her boobs, omg they were like massive and I mean hot damn I wish I could get me a pair of them. I’ve never been able to grow anything. I mean look down at my chest and I’m bloody flat, I don’t complain, and I don’t care about how I look, but seriously sometimes it isn’t fair that ladies like Mrs what’s her face have everything and I, well, have nothing really.

You either love it or guess you don't.
You're such a pretty thing,
To be running from anyone
A vision with nowhere to go.
So tell me right now,

I let it slide this one time, I let the little slip of my name slide because the guy is giving me a job for the night and I want the money that I’m getting given, ‘cos from what me mum tells me this guy is rich. I guess it is hard to see how he cannot possibly be rich, I mean look at him, and he is sexy and look at his clothes, the most expensive kind anyone in district four can afford. Not too happy about the idea of looking after some snot nosed brats though, they’ll be really spoiled brats, that’s what they are. The type o’ kids that get everything they want, whenever they want. They try to mess with me I’ll teach them, they’ll learn just what kind of person I am.

The streets weren’t quite, but then usually they aren’t at this time of the day. All the kids want to party, get drunk and have all their fun. They just love to waste all of their parent’s money. I don’t think any of them even give a shit that they put their lives in danger everyday by drinking alcohol all the time, it isn’t good for you. It kills your brain cells and as they die so do you and slowly it eats away at your body, your brain and your liver and tell you get that cancer stuff. Then you die. You end up six feet under the ground and I’ll laugh. I stood outside of his house it was, with no exaggeration here, massive like seriously think of a fridge, and you know how they are big? Well times that fridges by like a million and you might get half of his house. It is simply enormous.

The house is white, and red flowers litter the front yard, in bunches of circles that seem to be everywhere. A stoned path, patterned with bits and pieces of all different types of rocks covered the ground, in a winding twisting path to the front door. The door is very big. It is made of oak, fine and very strong, varnished to shine even in the night. I stride up the path, turning my nose away from the flowers, there sickly smell hangs in the air, rather sweet and bitter smelling. They smelt like roses, too much like home and my mother. She has this thing for bringing in a different type of rose every day and placing it on the centre of the table. My little perfect sister Mariah always rips the flowers to shreds. Mother never seems to get upset. Yet, I remember the one time I tried it and she like bit my head off, but whatever.

My hand hesitates at the door, but I take a nice deep breathe, although I do regret it as the bitter taste of the perfumed flowers fill my mouth. “Awh shit.” I spit. I cough a few more times, my hands planted on my tight jeans. The clung to my thin legs, legs that I thought were pretty damn close to perfect. Out of my whole body I loved my legs the most, they were really nice. I wipe a hand on my black shirt before knocking loudly on the wooden door.

[/size][/justify]

You think you're ready for it?
I wanna know why you got me going
So let's go, We'll take it out of here.
I think I'm ready to leap.
I'm ready to live,

[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Danny]

I got situated pretty easily. The kids, although coming from a rich family, aren't really that snobby. They fight a lot, that's for sure. For some reason the two girls feel the need to pull at each others' hair every second. I never really understood people of the opposite gender of me. Because... aren't guys supposed to have the big fights and have rivalries? The truth is, it's always the girls quarreling. Over who looks the best. Who has the best. Who is the best. Who is the best?

Phoebe probably would be.

Let go of her, Lyle, she's gone now with the rest of your innocence. Thinking about her isn't going to help, it's fighting fire with fire.

Stop.

To be honest, I don't actually care about the girls at my school, nor the boys for that matter. The only people I communicate with at school are the teachers. People kind of know I'm screwed up in the head a little bit. They know why. It's not exactly a secret Phoebe and I had puppy crushes on each other. (Except I think it was more than that. I think she thought it was more than that, too.)

The couch my lazy-self is sitting on is also crowded with kids, but most of their attention is occupied in the TV. It's kind of sick to think, how even at such a young age, the kids in our district find the Games so entertaining. I won't deny it, I was like them, because that's how I was raised. But now, after knowing someone who died - and not because of old age or the Games - I don't have the same obsession over them. Watching a loved one die slowly would be more painful than having someone close to me die in a heartbeat.

Trust me, I would know.

Just when I was wondering where my counterpart was, I hear a knock on the door. "Stay right here," I demand the kids, staring them in the eye, making sure they understand my commands. I get off the couch and walk through the hall littered with images in fancy frames of relatives and memories. My family was never close to any of our relatives, but I never really minded it.

Reaching for the knob, I'm kind of worried the presence that will stand before me is some jerk at school. Not that it matters, the other baby-sitter and I will be stuck here for the next few hours no matter what.

But, when I open the door, it's not a boy, and so I don't have to really worry about bullies. (Not that girls can't be bullied, it's just I never got bullied by one.) It's a girl. Plain features. Dark, flowing hair. Light skin. Average build. "Hi... um. I'm guessing you're here to baby-sit?"

[cass]

Ah, ah, ah
Oh-oh-oh-a-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-a-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-a-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-a-oh-oh
You've got these little things,
That you've been running from

He didn’t know. He had no clue. I stared at the boy for a moment, taking in the hair, light, plain, simple, nothing strange about him. The soft lips, lean body, but it was the eyes that made me jitter. They were fragile, as though a small push would send this boy hurtling over an edge he was already too close to. But hey. That could have just been the light. I, on the other hand had no such open weaknesses, I grinned at him, watching as he in turned gave me a one over. The words of rejection danced on my lips, I could simply deny being here; tell him wrong house and leave. I mean, I had a party I could go to, friends to sleep (with) over with. There was a hell of a lot on my list of “to do” things and babysitting wasn’t one of them.

The boy had no clue if it was me or not, so I could simply leave. Mum would never know. After forcing me here… Well. I had come I had actually made it to the front steps of the house. So hey, she couldn’t say I hadn’t actually gone to the house, I had glanced around made sure everything was all good. I could tell her I had left them with another guy, decent looking dude who had begged me to leave after I, of course, had told him where I was going. He had fallen to his knees saying that at least on of them should have some sought of life. Who could argue with that? Okay. So maybe I was laying it on a bit thick.

To be honest I probably wouldn’t even tell my mother. Grunt a uncomprehendable word and she would magically take it the way she wanted it to be. I sighed, stepping back and away from the door. Ready to leave. Hopping slightly from one foot to the other I look curiously at the boy. I knew that if I lied it would gnaw at me all night. I could lie without hesitation, that part was simple and easy, but the bit that made me anxious and feeling like some sick evil person was the guilt that slowly ate away at me afterwards. Normally I would rub it off, scowling, telling myself that I was listening too much to my mother’s “godly” things. I swear she was desperately trying to brainwash her two daughters, as she had done to my father –that hadn’t ended well for him. He was dead.

Unable to make my own mind up, my mouth decides to do it for me. “Look-“ I stumbled after the first word, about to say some random name. I stare at him for a second, trying to guess who he was, or so I could at least have some sort of name to stick on his chest. “erm… Bob-“ that name always worked well. There were so many Bob’s in the world that there was a chance that this guy could be one… maybe. “I’m really not a kid kind o’ girl. I have things I need to be doing tonight. So, I’m going to be honest and tell you now that I can’t stay.” I give him my best smile, flashing teeth and my eyes dancing wickedly.

”’twas greet meeting you and all, Bob, but I gotta go. People to meet, friends to sleep with, parties to crash. Catch ya later!” And with that delightful ending I turn around and begin to head away from the boy, standing at the door.

You either love it or guess you don't.
You're such a pretty thing,
To be running from anyone
A vision with nowhere to go.
So tell me right now,

ooc -- [ Sorry about the wait and quality <3 ]

[/size]

You think you're ready for it?
I wanna know why you got me going
So let's go, We'll take it out of here.
I think I'm ready to leap.
I'm ready to live,

[/size]

[/blockquote][/blockquote]