Hope

Chapter 1

I walked into the rain, my jet black hair falling at my face like a curtain, partly protecting me as I quickened my pace as I strode towards the barbed wire fence, with a sign that read "KEEP OUT. ELECTRIC FENCE!" In my opinion, it was rather stupid to write "electric fence" but then I realised I never really agreed with anything President Coin did, but I've just learned to keep my mouth shut tight.

As I drew closer to the fence, I stopped, like I always did, bent down, and pretended to "tie my shoelace." The only reason I was doing this is because The Fence resided next to "Richville." It's not actually called that but I honestly don't see why it isn't, only people of any significance lived there and a majority of them were men but a few women managed to wiggle themselves into secure-ish positions.

I rose and acted as if I was pushing hair out of my face and walked on towards the scruffy field we called the Rose Meadow as only roses of all kinds grew there, the only thing in Hope that wasn't destroyed by the two-faced President Coin.

I was almost there. I was almost at the woods when I heard a piercing scream that only belonged to one person and one person only. Liz.

I turned on my heel, and in a flash, I was gone. Sprinting as fast as my legs could take to the sound of her screaming.

"Liz!" I found myself yelling despite myself. "Liz!"

"Willow!" I heard Liz's strained cry clear as the rain that dropped on my face. This made me move even faster, at last, I reached her and pulled her into the safety of my arms.

"Sssh. Ssssh." I whispered to Liz, who was sobbing violently into my shoulder.

"What happened, Lizzie? Tell me what happened."

"They... they... they..." Liz stammered the words while looking over my shoulder as if she told me the Keepers of Peace would come and arrest her.

"What is, Lizzie, just tell me." I beckoned as I felt my voice beginning to crack, but for the sake of Liz, I managed to keep it at bay.

"They... they... killed him," I watched as her bottom lip quiver ever so slightly, a new batch of tears threatening to spill down her precious little face, "they killed dad. He's gone!" Then as if she had held it in too long the tears crashed down her face as she buried her head deep into my head. Liz's words hit me like a truck as if someone had taken what was left of my heart and smashed it with all their might, with everything they had in them.

I bolted upright. My breathing fast and my hands covered in sweat. It was just a dream, I told myself. It was just a dream. I glanced to my right to find Liz asleep peacefully with my mother. Safe. And that's all that mattered to me.

I sat there still, for around 5 minutes before I forced myself to get up and get dressed before I was plunged into another round of nightmares and screams.

There was some truth, in my dream, my father is dead. He died four years ago when I was only eleven and Liz seven. Sure, it was four years ago, but the pain is still fresh. He died in an explosion at the Workers of Hope, where he worked day in and day out to keep our family alive and healthy. They said the explosion was caused by a leak in one of the oil tanks which somehow managed to slither its way towards the combustion engines which caused it to explode, killing my father, the only hope in my life at that point. Anywhere I would have followed him, to the end of the world and back. After the explosion there was nothing left of him to bury, just an empty coffin and a headstone that said, "William Blakey. Beloved Father, Husband and Son." Pain ripples through my body and I long for my father's strong arms to wrap around me and hold me close, just like he did when I was upset when I was a little girl. But I felt no strong arms, instead I felt nothing. Cold, empty sadness. I pushed the thought away and began to get dressed.

I wore my father's old hunting jacket, it always made me feel closer to him, as if he was watching over my shoulder, keeping me safe from anything that may be out to harm me. The only other person I have ever felt that same sense of security and safety with would be Noah. Noah's my best friend, I can't really explain how we became friends because it really just happened. Maybe it was because his father died in the same explosion that took mine, or maybe it was simply one of those people who you instantly connect with. Whatever the reason, I was glad we found each other. Someone to look over my shoulder, someone to listen to my rambles, someone who cares, someone who I can feel at ease with and that someone was Noah.

Slipping quietly, out of the house, careful not to wake my mother or Liz, I closed the door behind me and felt a light breeze kiss my cheeks, while blowing hair out of my face. As my boots made contact with the ground, I suddenly felt hundreds of little eyes peering at me through their windows. I became incredibly subconscious as I put one foot in front the other. I put down to the fact that they knew my father and respected him and therefore respected me. But a niggling feeling in my stomach told me that wasn't it. That there was far more than I was seeing, but everyone knows that there is far more than meets the eye. Especially in Hope.