Salome Izar, District 11 | CBD #1 [Done]
Dec 13, 2015 23:09:08 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Dec 13, 2015 23:09:08 GMT -5
You are a child of the winter. Sixteen. The big hearted sister. Your mother’s curly hair, your father’s round nose—a mix of both worlds coming together in harmony. You are nothing like your sister—are you related, her so angry, so pushy, so much of a wild child for someone young. But you’ve got a steady hand, you like to watch the sky and the slow and steady pace of the fields. There will be enough for you here, if you can find it. Your last name promises something. You remember the boys that were plucked from the family, their names etched out of the tree in black. Benat so much older, you sat on his lap once when all of your cousins were together, on a long summer’s day. They were all so happy, such smiling faces that didn’t know what would come to pass. And still you look to the future, you have hope, that wicked little thing you seem to embrace.
We’re in charge of our own happiness, you remind your sister. Not the world, which owes you nothing. Not your parents, who you owe everything. You are, small hands, wide brown eyes, tiny smiled and speaking in an old tongue brought by her great grandmother. They say her memory is going, but you know different. You sit were with, knit with her, learn all you can in whispers about the old world. Back in the before, when things were better. You live the truth, because there is no other way to live. You are lucky to have such a mother, a father, sister—Izars, ones that know what it is to share in love. To stay together, and whole, and free. You are proud, you are young. You are, Salome Izar.
