I know you're going to seriously be upset that I can't update and all I do is add more stories. It's true. I'm very sorry. Get over it. I've been working on this for a while on my phone... and I wanted to see what all of you think so yeah. More to come for Catching Fireflies, Dancing in Circles, and 97B. This is a new story completely unrelated to the others I've written for Hunger Games. So yeah enjoy!
A little yellow canary darted in and out of the crevices in the mine walls, chirping wildly in the darkness. Its feathers fluttered with the very little wind. As it neared the back of the mine, the pretty song stopped and the little wings stopped flapping violently. It fell at a fast speed, when it dropped out of the air. This is what I feel like, a canary in a coal mine. Their little lungs stop working at little traces of polluted deadly air and alert the miners around them that it is not safe for them to work. My lungs are now filling with the smoke and my eyes are growing wide and alarmed. I need to tell the others around me that I'm drowning. So I fall.
Her maroon skirt hung around her hips as she moved her hips back and forth to the rise and fall of piano notes flooding the little store. She brushed a fleeting golden curl out of her face. She enjoyed watching the world go by.
Each person she got to study as they walked by her shop she would make up a wonderful romance or mystery about them. She sometimes would make tragic stories but those seemed to make her depressed, obviously, even if they weren't true.
When she didn't have lessons with her customers or letting her fingers skirt over the piano keys, she would become focused and listen to the music from the speakers behind her or people-watch.
The war had been over for a year and yet she still woke up shaking and crying out. And recently she hadn't been sleeping very well. When the bombs came down on District 12, she was cornered by a peacekeeper. She wasn't sure what he wanted and she didn't want to find out.
She remembers darting out of his arms and running behind the shops in town. When she reached the train station, she ducked behind a wall that had been blasted apart. Keepers ran by and she held her breath and felt her heart leap out of her chest.
Her father's voice surprised her the most. She peaked around the corner, praying that odds were with her and she wouldn't be caught. He was surrounded by the peacekeepers she didn't recognize. He was tied up and was slowly shaking his head back and forth.
Her mouth went dry. And then the shot rang out and her father fell limply on his side. That's when she could really focus on the chaos around her. The smoke filled air, the bombs, the fire, and the painful screams. The rubble dust that layered the ground was filling her brain and lungs. All she wanted to do was start screaming.
The train was a few sprints away and it looked like she had time and could make it to the back window. She looked around the corner again at the limp bodies that lay around her father, officials and friends of the family. She guessed that she would have been one of them.
The group had moved along further up the tracks and she approached the bodies with cautiousness. Her emotions were put to the side as she reached into the pocket of her father's dark green jacket. Her fingers gripped cool metal and she rushed to the back of the train with it.
Her pink dock shoes balanced her on the rail as she climbed over it. The window was open and she pressed it open with little effort. Glancing around again, she reached through the open window and clicked the caboose door open.
It slid open and she held it forward so it didn't bang into the side of the doorway. She slipped into the train car and locked the door behind her. It was gloomy in the last car and she made an effort to hide in a little shadow behind a tall crate completely.
The back of her head leaned back on the crate next to it and she slumped onto the floor. Her hand uncurled around the locket marked Undersee with ridiculously curly cursive letters carved into it. It was her great-grandfathers, grandfathers, and father's.
It popped open from pressing a tiny button on the side and revealed an off-white clock face. The hands were jade and sparked even in the little light that there was in the cabin. Her father had checked the time more times then she could count.
Her last words she had said to him were, "what time is it, daddy?" and he had responded with the smile that crinkled his eyes and he hugged her to him.
"Time for you to get a watch" he joked and left for the station to pick up paperwork. Little did she know that the paperwork was his execution, she probably would have said a lot more to him if she had known.
Now she starred down at it. She hadn't exactly told anyone the story of where she came from. People just know her as Clara Darling, since that was the name she chose for herself when she jumped off the train.
She cut her hair short just under her chin instead of it reaching the middle of her back and she made friends quickly using fake Capital charm. She was popular with the young male students so she wasn't hungry or homeless.
At the moment she was seeing Peter McGrey. He was part of the army services used to patrol the different districts and control the peacekeepers that were left. Suddenly, the bell above the door sounded and snapped her out of her memories.
She looked up to see a tall boy with reddish brown hair and big dark blue eyes. He was beaming ear to ear and had a bouquet of pink flowers. She smiled and giggled, acting the part of sweet little girlfriend. She kissed his freckled cheek and let his arm wrap around her waist.
Her eyes rolled and she let him drag her away from the counter and against the wall behind them. He set little kisses down her neck and onto her shoulder, "Hey pretty girl" he winked.
She turned away from him to reach over for her purse, "Hello" she smiled and leaned against the counter, studying him. He was wearing his dark blue uniform and he turned a little showing off. "Oh stop" she laughed and took his arm.
"Do you mind going out to dinner tonight with my new requites? I promised them that if they all did their drills right the first time I would buy them dinner"
Of course, she didn't mind. It was a free meal with a handsome guy, maybe even more men. She was actually hoping that maybe she'd meet one she really liked and settle down with him. Not Peter though.
They walked along the streets of District 2. Their hands were intertwined as they reached her apartment. "I don't understand why you live in this joint." That was the nice way of putting it but it had class when you got inside.
Exposed wood beams and wonderful architectural details of old style moldings. The apartment itself looked like luxury but the building was looking like it was falling apart. She liked it though; it had nice expensive furniture and Capital appliances.
She unlocked the door with a little silver key and walked inside, followed closely by Peter. He sat down on a barstool at the kitchen island. He watched her clean up the room of Capital magazines and sheet music.
Peter was beaming again when she looked over, the nasty curl fell over her eye again and she brushed it away. "No I like it leave it" Peter said walking over and running his hands along her hips. She blushed and looked away.
He laughed and started kissing along her jaw and trying to capture her lips with his tongue. She squirmed a little. This was the part she didn't like, when the relationship got physical or when the kissing got sloppy.
She pushed away a little and giggled showing him some more neck but not allowing him to get at it. He groaned and growled and smirked. She finally got away and ran off to her bedroom. "I have to change" she said sticking out her tongue.
The door clicked as it shut behind her and she immediately curled herself up on her white duvet. Her tabby cat appeared out from under her tall four poster bed. "Hey Amelia" she ran her hand over the grey striped cat and she purred.
Amelia was her one real friend and she was a cat. The young women sighed heavily and smiled down at the curious cat. She had found Amelia on the street outside her apartment. It was as if it was supposed to be.
She went to her dresser and opened it up looking for something suitable to wear out. She paused and then went back to the door; she stuck her head out and found Peter eating a cookie off the counter.
He smiled and held up his hands in surrender. "Where are we going for dinner- somewhere nice or like casual?" Peter thought about it and shrugged. His mouth was full of cookie but he came over and opened up her door wider walking in.
She hadn't let anyone into her bedroom and she wasn't comfortable with it, "No" she said her eyebrows crossing and she pushed him out. He again raised his hands up and left.
"Just wanted to help" he said swallowing cookie.
"Help by staying out here" she said kindly and started shutting the door again but a hand pressed against it and he entered her room again, "Peter" she scolded and grabbed his arm, pushing him back.
"Why do I have to stay out?" he smiled and pushed past her to sit on the bed. Amelia leapt off the bed and hid under the bed again. She crossed her arms over her chest and raised her chin.
"I don't want you in here" she said and tried to pick him off her bed.
"Aww baby" he pouted and pulled her onto the bed with him. He pinned her under him and with a sharp smile he kissed along the top of dress along her cleavage line.
"Peter!" she stressed and tried to shake from his strong grasp.
"Come on! We have time" he said and started playing with her straps.
"No!" she cried and calmed a little, letting her body relax, "I have to look perfect for your requites." she said sweetly through her eyelashes. He loosened his grasp and stood up but not before he ran a hand up her skirts.
"Later then" he winked and laughed leaving the room and shutting the door behind her. She held her head in her hands and sobbed but she toughened up and went through her closets.
Peter and his Clara walked into the restaurant. It was dusk now and the red dress hung to all her curves. She wasn't sure if this was the right dress to wear considering what happened a few hours ago.
She gripped her cheetah print clutch like a vice as she realized their restaurant was a pub. This was defiantly the wrong dress to wear. Her hair was pinned slightly by a large crystal crane clip that stuck into the back of her head to hold up loose ends.
She glanced around at the tables at the soldiers and other men and started feeling disoriented. She hated touchy-feely drunk men. The pit in her stomach grew as Peter pointed out a table of men more her age and some a little older.
Peter was three years older than her but that didn't matter when they started dating. Now she was beginning to realize that maybe it did matter a little.
"Hey you sorry looking men" Peter joked and pulled up a chair leaving Clara to stand awkwardly at his side. The men looked up at her then and some actually licked their lips.
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