Thank You, God, for everything.
DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the Hunger Games. Here's a little something. It's Mr. and Mrs. Everdeen before they got married. Teens in love, a Seam person and a Townie. :)
~ Mrs. (Beatrice, I'm calling her) Everdeen's point of view ~
I believe this is the first time I've ever really been in the Seam. I've walked a couple of steps into it before, of course. My friends, Maysilee and Margaret, we used to dare each other to step into the Seam. The Seam teens always looked at us with scorn when we did that. I wasn't into it, but the twins used to like to do it. We stopped when Maysilee was killed in the Quarter Quell. Margaret and I don't talk too much anymore.
It's dark, really dark. It's past eight, and though I'm a bit frightened that the Peacekeepers that roam the streets might find me and apprehend me, I'm not leaving. I'm going into the Seam, which Travis says is safe enough.
Travis. The reason I'm doing this. I've only talked to him a few times before. He's a pretty popular person amongst the other Seam teens, but he came over and talked to me for a couple of minutes after the Quarter Quell. He said he noticed that I was always with the twins, and he was sorry that Maysilee died. He asked me to meet him tonight to see a secret place. He escaped to the Seam after school before I could ask him what it was. I then went to the apothecary, which is a store here in town my parents own. We live above it. I worked on sending up pastes and marking herbs. My parents push me to do work at the apothecary, to get over the death of Maysilee.
I managed to escape when my mother said she and my father were going to bed. She told me to come to bed when I felt like it. I guess I'm going to bed late tonight.
Gulping, I don't know if I should wait for Travis to show up or not. Looking around, I see in the darkness grey shacks, with smoke coming slowly out of chimneys. There's a dog barking in the background, and I look over my shoulder, for I think I hear a footstep. I see him coming closer. I'm sure it's him, anyway.
"Travis?" I say, breathing out his name. I'm not afraid to admit that I find him very handsome. Margaret looked at me strangely when she saw Travis hurry to the Seam this afternoon, leaving me breathless.
"What's he asked you?" Margaret had asked.
I had looked at her and said, "He just wanted to tell me something."
"Couldn't-couldn't catch it," I lied. I'm no good at lying, but she seemed to get it and left me alone.
"Beatrice?" he asks now, and I let out a breath as he comes closer. He's tall, a good seven inches taller than me. He's solidly built, and he's a year or two older than me, with dark gray, short hair and tan skin. He looks way different than the boys from Town, like the baker's boy from Mellark's Bakery. He looks handsome, and a welcome sight in a place I haven't been before.
"What is it that you wanted to show me?" I ask.
"A special place that only Seam people know about," he says quietly.
"Townies don't know what it is, then?" I ask, sounding almost worried.
"Come on, Beatrice. It's just that Townies don't often come into the Seam. It's nice, I swear," Travis says in a gentle voice.
"Okay," I say, and he offers me his hand. I take it, and it feels nice in my own tiny hand. "Why at night, though?" I say as he walks, my quick feet struggling to keep up with him.
"Peacekeepers. Watching neighbors. The usual," he says.
"Peacekeepers?" I say. "We're-we're not doing something illegal, are we?" I trust him, but I don't know what he's doing.
"No. It's . . . we just look suspicious," he says, looking at our joined hands.
"Just because we're from different parts of District Twelve?" I say, and I wonder if I sound stupid to him, asking a question like that.
"Yeah," he says quietly. We pass several shacks. The street is made of dirt, and we pass broken wagons and barren looking gardens. A large building that looks imposing. I think, from what gossip I've heard in town, that that building's a black market. I look around and nod.
He smiles, though, and says, "We're almost there."
"What is it?" I ask.
"A secret," he says, making me smile and look away, suddenly feeling shy.
"What?" he says with a laugh. "I told you it was a secret place."
We do come upon a place. Grass meets my feet, and we're walking through wild flowers that move in a slight breeze. Looking around, I can't see much, but from what I can tell, it looks wonderful. It smells amazing. Town smells like the stores and dirt. This smells like dirt and grass and mountain air and it's beautiful.
"What is this place?" I ask Travis.
"The Meadow," he replies. The Meadow. Just the name sounds beautiful. I've learned from the few books we have that a meadow is a long stretch of grass and wildflowers. We don't have that in District 12. Or so I thought.
I pull him along, eager to see everything, and we're up to a large tree that has a large presence here and I smile and he says quietly, "You like it?"
"Oh, yes," I say, and I look at his face and he's frowning. Wondering why he's doing that (is it me? My reaction?), I say, "What is it?"
"Nothing," he says.
"Okay," I say quietly. Looking at the humungous tree, I realize that it's the only big tree around here. I run a hand over the rough bark and Travis lets go of my hand and he bounds up the tree, taking the branches by storm. I watch him go up. "Why is there only this tree here?" I ask.
I begin to climb up after him while he sighs and says, "It's the district's hanging tree, Beatrice."
"What?" I say, looking up immediately. I look fearfully around the strong tree. This is the place that the Peacekeepers takes the people who wronged, who killed? Cray's been our Head Peacekeeper for a bit now, and he's not too strict. I haven't seen any stocks or gallows or anything in District 12 in years. Apparently, they still need to have a place to punish prisoners. We don't even have a prison.
I notice something that makes me gulp. Necklaces of rope are still on the branches, swinging in the breeze. There's only two, and I want to vomit. Looking up, I meet Travis's face, and I don't know what to say.
"There's a song, that goes with this old tree," Travis says. "Do you want to hear it?"
"You sing?" I say after a moment of inward panic of the fact that Peacekeepers might find us here. I rarely hear anyone sing. They either are very bad at it or the good people just don't sing. The only time I really hear singing is in assembly. I'm not too good at singing myself.
"Yeah," he says.
"Are-are you pretty good?" I ask quietly. I hope he says yes.
"Yes," he says quietly. He stays quiet for a moment before he says, "Want me to sing it for you?"
"Please," I say too quickly. Oh, now I look like I'm forward.
He nods and he sings, looking out toward the beautiful, moonlit meadow, a horrible song. It's a song about a man getting killed for murdering people, and he calls for his love to join him in death.
The song sends chills down my spine and I immediately feel uneasy. He does have a beautiful singing voice. It sounds like angels, with gentle echoes and whispers that make up for the fact that there's no music of a violin in the background. The sounds of animals shuffling about and a wolf howling accent his voice, making the song sound even more cruel and mean.
"What do you think, Beatrice?" he says once he's done, and he looks right at me with dark, Seam eyes.
"I hate it," I say, looking hard at him. He looks somewhat surprised, but subdued as he asks, "Why?"
"It's a song about hanging trees and death, Travis," I say. Looking around the meadow, I say, "That's a rebellious song too, and you know how the Peacekeepers are to that sort of thing."
"It's just a song, Beatrice," Travis says.
I sigh and nod, "But still . . ."
"Fine, I can sing other songs. Anything you want to hear?" he asks. A breeze ruffles the leaves of the tree and the hair on his head flops about a bit, not too much though.
"The valley song," I say quietly, not looking away from his dark eyes.
He sings with so much beauty, and the birds around us stop their chirping. Even though it's dark, they had been talking and singing to each other. Now, they stop, and when Travis stops for a breath, they repeat his lyrics in their own melodious voices.
"Wow," I say quietly.
He smiles, a gentle, happy smile, and looks about. "I guess the birds like my singing."
It's not only the birds that like the singing. I smile and he smiles back at me, and I feel myself blush.
"I've got a song," he says, and he starts to sing. It's about the meadow, full of descriptions of the meadow. A willow tree, a bed of grass, which is a soft green pillow. There's daisies and moonbeams and leaves. It's soft and tells of spring, a quiet day where you'll wake up in a safe place.
He looks away into his meadow while he sings, like almost his singing is for the meadow. I look down at the grass covered ground and listen, and I pretend that he's singing to me.
Suddenly, slowly, he comes down the tree, and he stops near me and looking at me, still singing. "And tomorrow rings them true. Here is the place where I love you."
I look back at him, bewildered and somewhat shocked. He gives me a very sincere smile, and the birds stop the valley song and start singing this meadow song. It bounces around the meadow, and fills the back of my mind as I look at him, shocked.
The birds sing his song.
Yes. HUNGER GAMES. AND ONE DIRECTION. Yes. This is for you to know and for me to fan girl about. I hope you liked it, and please let me know what you think!