#acpmeet

You know that feeling you get when you look outside? I mean, when you’re the only one up and it’s five o’clock in the morning when the sky’s colors are so pale and delicate that you can’t tell it apart from the clouds? It’s not so bad once you get to appreciate it.

At least I was enjoying the feeling of isolation as I walked out the house. I was making a delivery today for the fourth time in a row. It’s not even my job to deliver the… Oh, what did they order again? Beef? No, no. Today, it was lamb. It didn’t matter too much though. The crisp air and the smell of dew cleansed my pallet, and I liked that along with the hearing the crunch of gravel under my shoes and the crinkling wrapping paper in my hand. It seems to me that you can only notice these types of things when there’s and absence of people. Well, maybe not notice, but collect. It’s your only chance to collect all the morning’s moments like how the muted colors of the buildings and plants slowly brighten up with each second that passes. I used to imagine when I was younger that with each step I took, I colored the world.

Somebody yelled. “President Brandt and Gamemaker Blair are here!"

The market was a total disaster. The second that President Brandt and Gamemaker Blair entered the District 9 commons, everything exploded into chaos. A few people ran madly towards them with looks of murder on their face. At the sight of the peacekeepers though, everyone quieted. Then the president began to give his speech.

The moon was high as Ignacius ducked under a fallen tree that had been propped up by some old tree stumps nearby. As he made his way through the woods, he had to constantly shift the heavy package he was carrying. He had no idea what was in it. Not that he wanted to know. Once the package was delivered and the payment was given, Ignacius no longer cared about the mysteries that surrounded the transaction.

Before long he had made it to the secluded building that stood by the edge of the district. Approaching the back door, Ignacius saw it being cracked open by Bryant. Being the rookie of this team of Peacekeepers, he was the one tasked with staying up for the delivery. As soon as he saw the approaching figure, his face broke into a smile. Sprinting to meet Ignacius in the woods, he relieved him of his burden by taking the heavy package. The two headed into the building.

Ignacius was glad to see that the young man was happy. After all, a crate of delicacies from the Capitol was hard to come by. Bryant turned towards him, opening his mouth this issue thanks. Ignacius cut him off before he could speak.

“Listen, I know you glad I brought you this. But I won’t tell you how I obtained it. All I need is your payment and then I’ll be on my way.”

Hilarian stood in line with the other inmates, completely silent aside from coughs and dirty looks that spoke more than words. Ignoring his brother walking up and down the lines and maintaining the focus that was demanded of them was difficult, but he kept his head up.

Why in God’s name President Brandt thought it was a good idea to visit an adolescent prison, he wasn’t sure. To reform them? Surely not. To keep them in their place, the pets that wouldn’t behave. All of them watched the clock. The visit was at three, and sure enough, the doors swung open, on the dot.

The first to march in were peacekeepers, four of them, and then the President and a blonde girl, followed by more peacekeepers. President Brandt wasted absolutely no time, clapping his hands and smiling at the rotten fruit of society that hit every single fucking branch on the way down. “I’m sure you know why I’m here.” Blank stares met him, and Hilarian lost interest immediately. He turned his attention instead to the girl.

She was... Hilarian looked closer. She was angry, eyeing the P.K.s around her with distain. She didn’t want to be here. Who could blame her? His quick temper was rising for her, as it often did for himself. She looked trapped, not even in a cell. The more he looked, the more he was drawn to her and her tiny rebellions.

It was the way she held herself, standing taller than everyone in the room, including Brandt. It was the wild hair falling out of her smooth Capital hair. It was her eyes that seemed to scorch anything they touched. She was pissed, and he didn’t know why, but he got the odd feeling the two of them might get along. Either that or battle to the death. It was hard to tell with some people.

It was an honour to have my father give me his ring. I knew it meant a lot to him. Although it didn’t quite fit on my middle finger, it’s perfectly wrapped around my thumb. Little did I know that my mother now had a bigger reason to incorporate me in her plans. All she needed was my father’s consent, and she has a king at her disposal.

Forced to endure my first duty as acting mayor, I sat on my father’s chair and listened to the woes of a crowd of troubled citizens. “The water supply is running low! Your dam is taking everything!” shouted one them. “Our crops are dying! The power plants are releasing too much fumes in the air!” another complained. Then each of them started to argue, believing their needs outweighs the others. I shook my head and sighed. Why the hell would my mother sign me up for this? 

“Mayor Luminel demands order!” shouted Cyrus, but to no use.

My mother nudged me. She didn’t expect me to solve all of their problems, did she? Finally, I decided to speak. “Darlings, can I be honest with you?” They all stopped fighting and turned their attentions to me. “Your problems bore me.” I confessed with a roll of my eyes. Then with a snap of my fingers, our servants came and presented each of my problematic subjects with a stack of cash. “Money solves everything, so I hope these will be to your liking.”

They all knelt down before me. “All hail the king!” Each and every one of them cried with happiness. Almost as fast as they entered our home thinking their world was about to crumble, they all left with their problems fixed. 

There is something calming about sharpening a blade. The whetstone sits heavy in my hand. Glides across my arm with little resistance, slowly, deliberately. Nobody bothers me. Remember when the workers would stand for making idle conversation with me. After the fighting, they left me alone. Don’t know if they’re worried about me or scared of me. Possibly both. Would investigate further, but would rather not know. Mother doesn’t like when I wear my arm. Think it reminds her of the past. Don’t usually wear it, anyway, only when sharpening. Need to take care of it. It’s part of me. Dislike upsetting her, though, so it’s usually kept out of sight. Quarry work is a hard life. Mother asked me to take a break for thirty minutes. So I sit on one of the taller rocks and sharpen.

I was in town with my little brother, Prescott, as the marketplace had its afternoon boom. He was settled on my shoulders while I shuffled through a crowd of sweaty, tired Nines.  The plains of the square were a little harder to navigate each day, as the shops seemed to change every morning. Today was just about dinner, which seemed to travel the least, but was also one of the most popular. Everyone seemed to head for the same few stands every time. The trip was elongated, because everyone seemed to be heading the opposing direction as Prescott and I. I couldn’t tell if everyone was leaving in a hurry, or was trying to get away from something, but as the curtains of dust opened, I realized it was a little bit of both.