The Secrets of the Silence {Harrison Oneshot}

[kap]

Harrison Greenslade

Death. Why was death a thing that so many people in this world of ours are afraid of? Personally, I imagine that dying would be like falling asleep, except better; you don't have to wake up. This world is a rather crappy place to have to live. After all, if you don't have the luxury of living in the Capitol, you have to live in fear year after year that, if you're between twelve and eighteen, you could be chosen for a televised death match. Luckily for me, I do live in the Capitol. I also am much too old for that particular death match. That's the one thing in life that makes me appreciate being over the age of thirty.

I wasn't born in the Capitol, though. No; I was conceived, born and raised in District Six. The same could be said for my children. They, however, didn't get to have a father figure in their lives. Well, at least, as far as I knew. There was always the chance that my dear wife Poppy could have remarried, though I highly doubt she would have. She was too madly in love with me. Did I say that out loud? Oh, wait, I can't speak.

One may wonder what I did to become an avox. If you're new around here, that's someone who had their tongue cut out for committing a crime. I suppose it's not the worst punishment I could have received for murder, but it wouldn't have been my first choice, either. A nice, quick execution would have been my personal preference. This whole no-tongue thing is more difficult than one may imagine. Honestly, I've always been a big-mouth, so not being able to speak at all isn't all too enjoyable.

I've been asked plenty of times what I did to become an avox. Of course, it's always been in the form of a rhetorical question by some sadistic Capitol dweller, as they know I can't really answer them. They laugh as my facial expression changes to one of frustration. Sometimes, however, they back away, as my face twists into a sadistic grin. If only they knew what I'd really done to get this punishment. Sure, many of them know I killed someone, but they certainly don't know how I did it.

Knives have always been a nice tool to have around. They can cut your food and... other things, too, I suppose. Personally, when I got tired of cutting food with my kitchen knives, and got tired of my neighbor attempting to get together with my wife, I decided to kill two birds with one stone. Or, perhaps the better wording would be, one neighbor with an array of kitchen knives. I wasn't caught at first. I cleaned up quite well and simply buried the knives in the man's backyard before returning home. Sure, the wife would notice a few missing kitchen utensils, and perhaps the missing neighbor as well, but she wouldn't be likely to suspect that it was me. After all, I was clean of all of the blood, and left no evidence at the crime scene.

It took them long enough to find me. After approximately a week, they'd arrived at my house to tell my wife that I'd been arrested, and was to be punished by having my tongue cut out. I wonder if my children ever heard that when it was announced. Had Poppy ever shared what happened with them when she found out? I have even begun to wonder how much my very own wife knew about what I had done. To this day, though, I still don't know who turned me in. Perhaps someone had walked into his house and seen his body, lying there in a pool of his own blood, or maybe a passerby had witnessed it all through the window, and waited a bit before turning me in; how kind of them.

Regardless of how it happened, I was caught. The procedure of cutting out my tongue was done under anesthetic, I believe. Either that, or I have a really good pain tolerance, though I doubt that would shield me from the pain getting ones tongue cut out would put them through. Pain doesn't bother me too much, but I still don't know how enjoyable such a procedure would truly be to experience. To this day, I still get passed around from Capitolite to Capitolite to be their avox slave. Many of them, when they find out why I was turned into one of their muted servants, will ship me off to someone else. I suppose they don't want a murderer working for them. Who knows, maybe I'd be a bit more helpful at fending off burglars than old Fido the Chihuahua. That's their loss.

I often wonder how Poppy and the kids are doing. Luckily, I have the opportunity to keep up with the Hunger Games, which is that death match I mentioned earlier. This means, if any of my children were chosen for the Games, I would know. It's a very popular event in the Capitol. People sponsor their favorite tributes- those are the kids that are going to fight to the death- and they bet on those they think will win. The whole 'televised death match' thing being popular baffles me, though. They let children murder each other for entertainment, but I can't murder my neighbor to protect my wife?

Okay, so perhaps the man trying to get with my wife wouldn't exactly harm her, but for all I knew, he may try to hurt her when she turns him down oh so gently. Poppy Greenslade has always been a kind woman, so it's hard for me, or I'd imagine anyone, to see her protecting herself from him with any form of violence. That's likely why it became my job. Or, at least, it felt like it was my job. If it weren't for executions, government approved or not, who would get rid of the scum of Panem? There has to be some way for me to help the community that doesn't involve volunteering for something boring like cleaning up trash. The solely most interesting thing I've ever found in the trash was a shoe that had a dead squirrel in it, and to be honest, I've seen much more intriguing things elsewhere in life.

Perhaps my way of paying back to the community, my District and my loved ones was by eliminating people like my not-so-dear neighbor. After all, no one else seemed to want to do it.

Oh, and there's another major downside to being an avox. Having no tongue does make it quite difficult to consume the delicacies of the Capitol. Though, I suppose that's alright, as I'm not expected to use my verbal manners anymore, such as 'please', 'thank you' and 'you're welcome'. Those always were a bit irritating back home when everyone expected you to utilize them on a daily basis. Yes, I was a respected man up until the day I was found out and arrested for the murder, but I wasn't always the man who wanted to use manners with those that didn't deserve my respect in return.

These days, I've been passed around a lot between Capitol maniacs residents. I wonder how long it will be until this man finds out that I've murdered before. Then again, it's not like he'd want to pass me on to someone else and have me spill all of the deep, hidden secrets that I've heard him share. Oh, wait, there may be a slight flaw in that concern. Seeing as I don't have a tongue, well... I suppose I could write it down. I guess that I should give him an extended period of time to share some more secrets before I decide to share my own with him in return. I'm sure he'll thank me later for being so honest when he gets a note in his lunchbox from his avox friend.

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