A Help From Above (Drevilsin)

[Tom]

Writing Thinks Says Hears

The faint chill of winter was starting to fade away from the world into the new season of green grass and flowers. Winters were always the worst for District Twelve. Food was a scarce thing in District Twelve. The main source of death was from starvation and Aarin hated that. Food being the number one killer made Aarin think of all the deaths before. Father had told him to not worry about it, but Aarin always felt it was his burden on District Twelve. The boy had to do something about it and that when he started carrying food in his bag wherever here went. It was the one thing he could do himself to help better the district as a whole. Aarin was determined to help the starving people of the district.

The boy's feet had a compass of their own, always pointing him in the right directions he needed to go. The seam was his destination of choice. It was the biggest place where starvation occurred. The houses reminded the mayor's son of shacks rather than homes, but he grew up in a rich environment. A big house with plenty of food, this was his privilege as a Mayor's kid. Children of every age were moving around and doing something. Parents of these children watch carefully, yet also talking to themselves as they saw Aarin. His father, the mayor, was well liked among the people and many knew why Aarin was there. Aarin gave a small smile to the people of the seam as he went in deeper and deeper.

A lonesome kid who was probably around his little brother, Crane, looked to need some care from Aarin. The Mayor's son's voice was calm and relaxed, "Hey buddy, you look like you need some help. Can i help you?" The little kid nodded his head and smiled at Aarin. The smile felt like a rush of wind as it reminded him so much of Crane's smile. Aarin reached into his pack and pulled out some food for the younger boy. The younger boy ate a little bit of it and tried handing it back to Aarin. Aarin just smiled at the young boy and said, "You keep it. Give it to your friends or family who might need it. That should be enough for a little while." Aarin stood up and continued his mission to help feed people in the seam.

The gentle breeze felt like a brush of calmness on his skin. Goosebumps of cold began forming on his body. The joys of helping people made him feel better about everything. The day seemed to be going perfect, well as perfect as can be until Aarin saw something unimaginable to think about. A scuffle of some sort between four boys. Three of them looking like some of the merchant kids and one being a guy who was probably from the seam. The violence made Aarin want to jump in, but the guys were at least two years older than he was, which meant he'd get slaughtered just like the District Eleven female in the seventy second Hunger Games.

Aarin waited it out until the three merchant boys were gone. His heart sank when he say the guy who had been beaten. The poor boy was skinny, like he wasn't eating skinny. Bruises and some small scratches were on his body. Aarin moved towards the guy, his hands reaching into his bag for what little first aid stuff he carried around. Aarin wasn't one to ask if someone needed help. The mayor's son just went for it without hesitation. Aarin spoke calmly, "Hi, I'm Aarin Aldalómë. I'm gonna help you. Do you think you can be still for me?" Aarin pulled out some wipes to clean one of the cuts. Aarin focused his attention to the red liquid that was trying to escape the boy's body.

A smile formed on Aarin's face as he got some of the cut clean and continued his detailed work. Aarin didn't wait for a response from the guy. His voice seemed to flow into the air as he asked the question, "So, who were those guys? They seem like jerks to me." Aarin kept his smile as he cleaned up another cut. I feel awful for this guy. He doesn't deserve this. Aarin just continued to use his little bit of first aid skills. Aarin hated incidents like this. Richer kids tended to have some sort of prejudice against the poor and Aarin hated that. A norm that was created long ago and Aarin was going to be the one to break that norm. Many of the seam kids were in need. The rich kids should help them, but that doesn't happen for multiple reasons. One of those reasons is security from the Hunger Games. The poor kids have to pull out more Tessera for the Hunger Games.

Aarin just continued his work while paying attention to the guy that he was bandaging up. A good look at him and Aarin can tell that the guy has been through some tough situations. A skill Aarin learned from his father, the skill to be able to read some of the person through their looks or body language. A good skill for a mayor and a good skill to help the people of District Twelve. Aarin was helping a stranger, but at the same time, the stranger was helping Aarin. The stranger was helping Aarin become a person that he liked more, someone who helps in a crisis. Aarin was a boy with a lot of money, but a bigger heart. The bigger hearts always win.

[drevilsin]

It had all happened in an instant. One moment Torvan was walking down the street, and the next he was on the ground, in immense pain, while a boy who looked to be from the Merchant’s section of District 12 bandaged him up. “Hi, I'm Aarin Aldalómë,” the boy said to Torvan, which instantly triggered Torvan’s memories. Aarin was the son of the mayor, and both were nice, kind men who cared about the district. “So, who were those guys? They seem like jerks to me.” Aarin asked.
“Should I answer him?” Torvan wondered. “One wrong word and I can get punished for insulting the mayor’s son.” So he stayed quiet for a while until Aarin finished bandaging him up, and then he broke the silence between them. “I'm... I’m Torvan. Torvan Lofas.” He croaked, “And those kids are jerks, just like you said, and they’re also the sons of merchants. Anyway, I recognize you. Think you can spare some food for a poor guy in need?”

[Tom]

Writing Thinks Says Hears

The bandages were on and perfectly set to clot the blood. A smile rose to Aarin's face. Bullying was a serious problem for lots of people all over Panem. The Hunger Games were the perfect example of how bullying was happening. The careers killing the smaller and weaker children, except it wasn't bullying. It was murder. Murder in the worst way. Lemon Cake was a victim of this slaughter just like tributes from before. Aarin hated seeing violence like this in the districts. He hated violence in general. The use of violence just shows how corrupt the system was in all of Panem, but he was the Mayor's son. He had to let it be. Or else something worse might happen to all of them.

Aarin heard the other guy speak. “I'm... I’m Torvan. Torvan Lofas.” Aarin knew that Torvan knew who he was. The eyes were dead giveaways to how he could tell. Torvan looked to be questioning how to approach talking to Aarin. The boy just smiled at Torvan and waited for the rest of his statement to come out, “And those kids are jerks, just like you said, and they’re also the sons of merchants. Anyway, I recognize you. Think you can spare some food for a poor guy in need?” Aarin was reaching into his bag already. A rather large amount of food is what Aarin pulled out. A loaf of bread which was probably rather rare to the people in the Seam. Some meats and cheeses. Aarin was going to give extra to Torvan for what he's going through.

Aarin handed the other guy the food and spoke calmly, "You know, I may be the mayor's son, but you don't need to treat me any differently. It's not like I am gonna say anything to the Peacekeepers or report you to them. Just relax man. Speak to me like you would to a friend?" Aarin pulled his hand out to Torvan, a simple clue that Aarin was gonna pull him up. Aarin just smiled at Torvan. Aarin was a helper and this was what his life consisted of. Helping out the people who needed it.

[drevilsin]

“Speak to me like you would to a friend?” Torvan just chuckled at that statement. “Me? Speaking to a friend?” Torvan responded, “I have none, sadly. Most have withered away from hunger or disease.” He said as he looked over the food Aarin had given him. “Thanks for this, but how do I know that you’re not like the merchants’ kids? How do I know you aren’t putting up a kindness act to just rip out our hearts later?”

Torvan was a hard one to convince, as he had spent all his years prior being turned away by everyone who wasn’t from the Seam, but it wasn’t impossible. Getting up slowly to gather his belongings, he realized something was missing. “My cap!” he yelled out before again collapsing to the ground and weeping, “My last treasured belonging!”

[Tom]

Writing Thinks Says Hears

A chuckle escaped the older boy's lips. A chuckle that sent shivers through Aarin's spine. The faint feeling of pain struggles to the surface as Torvan speaks out loud. “Me? Speaking to a friend?” Aarin didn't know how to take the response. Memories of his siblings playing with friends in the district kept making an appearance. Aarin used to play with everyone, no matter who they were. A pang of guilt ran through Aarin as he heard Torvan speak. “I have none, sadly. Most have withered away from hunger or disease.” The words hunger and disease rang like it was the worst thing someone could say. Aarin was a failure. A failure who had let people die from hunger. District twelve was nothing but a place where people suffered.

The words that came out of Torvan's mouth hit Aarin like a ton of bricks. “Thanks for this, but how do I know that you’re not like the merchants’ kids? How do I know you aren’t putting up a kindness act to just rip out our hearts later?” The words hurt like hell. A burden that only his family can hold on their backs. Aarin hated this. Aarin hated being questioned on his morality, when all he wanted was for everything to be wonderful in life. A broken boy who had been shoved around almost to death stood in front of him. Aarin had always been kind and would never hurt anyone. Aarin hated t see the pain and suffering of his people. The boy only wanted his people to feel he is kind, but sometimes, Aarin has to ignore the words of hate and deal with the problem in front of him. Aarin's response was simple. "I'm sorry you lost all of your friends. I can't even imagine the pain that must have caused. I promise you Torvan. I would never do anything to hurt you or anyone. My kindness is all I have to give and I would never turn my back on the people of this district. If you need a friend Torvan, you have one now and I won't take no for an answer."

Aarin watched the guy freak out. The alarm that came across Torvan's face only caused Aarin to freak out a bit. Torvan suddenly yelled out something and fell to the ground weeping about a hat that was precious. Aarin frowned at the older guy who seemed to be breaking down. His hand reached out for a moment only to be brought back to his side. Aarin sunk down to the guy's level and reached to rub the guy's back soothingly. A instinct that probably his mother had given him. The words flowed freely out of his mouth, "We'll get your hat back Torvan. I promise you that we will. I needed to speak those merchant kids about this incident anyways. Lets go get your hat back." Aarin smiled the friendliest smile at Torvan and offered to help Torvan get up. His hand extended waiting for the other boy to grab a hold and join him on a journey to find his belonging.

[drevilsin]

Many thoughts rushed through Torvan’s head when he heard Aarin’s words. Since when did anyone, especially a rich kid, tell Torvan sorry? “My kindness is all I have to give and I would never turn my back on the people of this district.” Aarin said, and Torvan realized something. This was the same boy he’d heard of from the stories. He was the one who walked around to feed those who needed it. Was Torvan’s luck beginning to turn around? Maybe Aarin could help him out. “If I’m ever going to trust another, this is the time to do it,” Torvan thought.

“If you need a friend Torvan, you have one now and I won't take no for an answer."Aarin continued, but that was before Torvan realized his hat was missing. With every sob his body shook in sadness. “What if I can’t find it?” He questioned himself, “What if it’s never going to be found again like my watch?” He sobbed aloud. After calming down, he saw Aarin crouch down and rub Torvan’s back. "We'll get your hat back Torvan. I promise you that we will. I needed to speak those merchant kids about this incident anyways. Let’s go get your hat back." He heard Aarin say before smiling and extending his hand to Torvan. This small action made Torvan smile for once. “Maybe not all of the merchants’ kids are bad.” He thought, before gladly accepting Aarin’s gesture. “Where to first?” He asked.