IN WHICH,
The boy who frequents your father's workshop carves a place for himself in your heart.
'He's looking at you. He's looking at you as if you're his whole world. If anyone could see him right now, they would immediately understand one thing:...
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Treech's daily visits, no matter how late, were always your favourite part of your day. Not one moment with him was dull. The adventures of the previous week were so simple yet would hold a place in your heart forevermore.
On the first day, he had whisked you away from the workshop. Bringing you to a hill, you two raced through the forests of District 7 as the setting sun washed over your figures.
The day after was just as memorable. Treech had eaten dinner at your place with the courtesy of your mother inviting him. She had been teasing you all day, having found out from your father the news that you were dating someone. You had grown used to her cheers of, 'My baby's in love!' and, 'You're growing up so fast, sweetie.' It didn't help that throughout the dinner, Treech had effortlessly managed to charm your parents. You remembered how he had showed up in his best shirt, with a multicoloured bouquet of flowers held firmly in his hands. He had sent you a charming grin, squeezing your hand under the table to reassure you. He had met your parents and they were so fond of him. At the time all you could think about was how deep you had fallen for him, the thought of being without him for more than a day being too much to bear.
On one occasion, he had arranged to meet you down by the river. Both of you had splashed around in the water, the forest echoing with your laughter.
Another time, he had revealed one of his secret talents to you: playing guitar. He admired the pure excitement on your face as he started playing it, and even dedicated an afternoon to teaching you the basics.
Yesterday, you remembered the way he had held you. The sound of rolling thunder had stormed in, accompanied by harsh streaks of lightning. Treech had held you close to his chest as the two of you were bundled up together in your bed. He had whispered reassuring comments in your ear, kissing your temples in the process. As the weather outside rumbled, you had felt safe in his arms. The sharp screeches of lightning and the threatening waves of thunder reduced to quiet in his hold.
The storm had passed. Although, it felt like it had ceased to clear up as today was the day that struck fear in children's hearts. Today was the reminder of the district's punishment dealt by the Capitol. Today was the day that Treech had feared most: the Reaping.
A knock resounded on your bedroom door, and you granted permission. Your mother peeked out from behind the door offering a sympathetic look.
"Are you feeling okay dear?" She asks softly, because what else was there to ask when your child was getting picked among others to wither in the arena?
"Mostly okay." You respond, your throat becoming dry.
Although you had watched or attended the Reaping for the past 9 years, the fear it had inflicted upon you never seemed to dissipate. You had pushed it from your mind most of the time, but truthfully, it scared you. It scared you that each time you were lined up with your peers, someone would be chosen and they would never make it to the train back home. It was wrong, sending children to die. But who were you to rebel against the Capitol? The Capitol could mercilessly kill and torture the ones you held close to your heart. The idea of a rebellion seemed far-fetched. Someday, you hoped, the Capitol would pay. All that you could do was wait, but to live long enough to support the rebellion was another worry.
