white blank page | dax & peter | [tom]

[ミSailor彡]

D a x  L u x

district 7 | seventeen

    Walking towards the district schoolhouse is not what I originally had planned for my Saturday morning. I kick the rocks in front of me as I think about how I could be hanging out with the guys or helping Sparrow with her crafts. But here I am, with only a few weeks left in the designated school year and once again, I'm behind. I never thought I was dumb but my teachers and grades keep proving that I must be. It makes me a little self conscious, especially when I'm talking to the smarter students in my class. I've always been able to shake off my lack of intelligence and replace it with the ego from having a lot of friends. It's gotten me by so far but now I'm not so sure. Failing makes me nervous. And I can't accomplish anything when I'm riddled with nerves. 
    I get to the school house, hoping I'm not late. I wasn't really paying attention to the time before I left our home and I only knew to leave because my father reminded me. This is the first time I've utilized the tutoring program at our school house. I probably could have used it years ago but I just wasn't motivated enough. My sister pressured me into going this time. She always drones on about how I have so much potential and that I just let other things get in the way. "Get your shit straight, Dax," she always tells me. My shit is straight, I wish I could tell her that in a way she'd understand. School isn't going to help me chop wood, which is what I'm going to be doing until the day I die. We only go because we're forced too. Yeah, some people are interested in Panem's history and what the square root of what-the-fuck-ever is but it just doesn't interest me. I can't find my way around it. I get through life with common-sense, kindness and work ethic. That's all you really need in this district. 
    It's eerily empty in the hallways of the school house as I make my way to the designated classrooms that the tutors use. I round the corner to find the door open and slowly peek my head in to find a brown haired boy sitting at desk, with another desk pulled up beside it. He had several books stacked next to him and seemed to be working on something amongst a stack of papers. He seemed engulfed in his work, writing diligently. I almost didn't want to interrupt but I feel that I'm already late. I slowly take a few steps into the room, almost having the duck to not hit my head on the door frame. 

    "Hey, uh, sorry to interrupt. I'm Dax, I should have a lesson with you today? Sorry if I'm uh, a little late."

made by Δ ashy of caution & shine

[Tom]

Writing Thinks Says Hears

Today was just not his day. Peter, who wanted a nice and calming day, had to tutor someone today. He had tried arguing with his teacher who said that he needed to come in on a Saturday. The one day his father's out of the house and can't hit him at all. Peter sighed in frustration as he got out of bed. Today was going to be a long and probably annoying day for him. Peter got ready really quick and stomped out of the house with some of his notes and books in hand. The walk consisted of watching all the houses of the other people sleeping. Peter wished he could be sleeping, but no he had to go deal with some stupid kid who couldn't pass his classes.

Peter ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He just wanted to be home and sleep. Peter had only one day a week where he wouldn't get beaten. The bruises had been hidden because Peter would never want anyone to find out. He knew he was nothing to everyone, just an easy mind to learn from. Peter remembers the first night he brought home an A. His father had been drunk and beat him for it because his son was a sissy who didn't do sports or chopped wood like him. Peter walked past the Lumber mill swiftly. The school was just a bit farther. If he could make it there, he'll be safe. Then he trips and falls and next thing he knows he's being kicked in the side of the chest. He finally gets up to see his father. He just takes it like a man and feels the bruises already starting to form.

Peter jumped up and ran away towards the school house. His side aching from being kicked. He went straight to the bathroom to check the mess that his father caused. His hair was everywhere, bruises were forming on his side, and his arm was bleeding. Peter quickly cleaned his wound and hid it with his sleeve. He fixed his hair with some water and his hands. He covered his side with the shirt and winced feeling his side ache again. Peter knew now that is was going to be an even longer day with more pain than relaxing. He sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. That was when he looked at himself in the mirror. This is how you're supposed to be. Broken. Destroyed. It was meant to be. You're a pathetic loser. This is your life. Deal with it.

Peter's legs began making him walk to the room where he was going to be tutoring the kid. He sat down and began setting everything up, all the books he had for every subject just in case. Then he heard someone speak and felt himself cringe and wince at the same time. "Hey, uh, sorry to interrupt. I'm Dax, I should have a lesson with you today? Sorry if I'm uh, a little late." Peter turned around in his seat to be met with a boy who was what most people would probably think is a popular guy. Peter felt his heart race in fear, if he did something wrong right then, his social status would fall even more than it has. Peter smiled at Dax who seemed to be just as frustrated as he was. Peter spoke softly, a little bit in fear and little bit from being shy. "Um. Yeah, we have a lesson. I-I'm Peter." Peter turned back around and quietly releasing the breath he was holding. Now, he was sure that it was indeed going to be a very long day.

[ミSailor彡]

dax lux

When my tutor turns to look at me, I can't quite read the expression on his face. There's a mix of worry, or shock maybe as he introduces himself as Peter. Did I say something wrong already? Is he as distraught as I am about not being able to enjoy this Saturday? Or does something about me make him perceive that he's in for quite a day? Maybe he thinks he'll be here all day attempting to get me to retain something. Yes, I need to be tutored but I honestly don't think I'm that dumb. I have common-sense, morals, I know how to spell... I just don't get things like math and science. And I guess my handwriting can be illegible at times but really, Peter could have a worse student to tutor. 

He turns back around and I see his shoulders sort of sink. I assume I need to take a seat at the desk he's pulled up next to him but I'm feeling a little awkward here. When I take my seat, I look up at Peter and it almost seems as though he's purposely avoiding making eye contact, as if he's nervous, even. I advert my gaze to all the books and piles of papers he has neatly placed on the desk's flat surface, still leaving room for us to work. There's a book for every subject that we study at school and they're each about as thick as my forearm. I try to conceal the sigh that overcomes me as I realize what I'm in for, but for whatever reason it seems as though this lesson is taxing Peter far more than myself.  

"I kind of forgot to bring my notebook and pencils, I hope thats okay."

I know this statement probably won't sit well with my newfound tutor, but I already took notice to the plethora of pencils and stacks of blank sheets of paper laying to the side. His pencils are a variety of sizes, some sharpened down to the ends, some unused and in at their original length. I notice the several pencils lying closest to him have teeth marks at the end towards the eraser. Nervous habit, maybe? Or just something that helps him concentrate? I can relate because when I get nervous, or even if I'm just bored, I chew on my nails or the sides of my lips. Most of me just doesn't like to sit still, the rest of me doesn't even notice I'm doing it until my sisters points out how bad of a habit it is. As I have that thought, I catch myself biting my lip, chewing off some of it's skin and I get a hint of blood in my mouth. I try my best to edge this lesson on because the quicker we begin, the quicker we'll both get out of here. And obviously we'd both rather be somewhere else.

"My worst subjects are math and history. Where do you want to start?"