003. engagements cause problems

Emerald has seen many terrible things in her lifetime, but the destruction of District Eight has to be up there. News had spread fast through this place, word of Katniss and Peeta's engagement, and from there everything has spiraled.

The brunette had been sleeping in the guest room of Phoenix's home, which is where she's been staying now after the incident with her mother a while back, when the first explosion rocked the area. At first she'd thought that perhaps one of the factories had an explosion, that something had malfunctioned and it caused an accident. However, that simply wasn't the case.

Instead, whilst she was sleeping, the District had decided to rebel against the Peacekeeping forces and show the Capitol that they were indeed serious about the oncoming rebellion. As expected, it had turned disastrous. Several buildings were taken over by the residents and they'd stood strong for quite sometime until the Capitol had decided to step in.

Thousands of Peacekeepers sent in and all the buildings that had been taken over were bombed. She'd woken to the sound of the Justice Building being turned to a pile of rubble and the screams of injured people, people she knew. It's impossible to tell how many people had died, who was still living under the fallen pieces of the buildings, but any talk of rebellion has been silenced — for now anyway.

Emerald opens her blinds, sighing as the world around her continues to be a dull grey. There's still places in the distance that glow under the light of large fires, smoke polluting the air and making it hard to see much else. She cannot even see the other homes in the village from here, her house blocked out by the smoke.

She's not even allowed to leave, not that she particularly wants to go back to her own home, because the entire district has now been placed into a harsh lockdown. Nobody can go to work either as the factories have been shutdown for a while.

It's like a ghost town, the streets abandoned and the front doors locked up. Peacekeepers are situated all over the place, hundreds of them around to make sure that nobody even chances leaving their home. They gather rebels, the ones who defy the orders of President Snow, and take them away. They're so much harsher than before, so much so that they've even begun to show executions in the television. It's the only thing that can be seen when turning it on, any other time of the day it's simply static.

"Em? Esme has made breakfast. Apparently Snow is making an announcement to the District as well," Phoenix calls from the other side of the bedroom door.

"Give me a second!" She speaks back, closing the blinds again so she no longer has to the destructive mess that is her District. The room immediately dims again, but it's rather comforting to not have to see the light orange tinge to her walls.

Emerald opens the door, seeing that Phoenix has already retreated to the kitchen, and follows in the direction he would have gone. There's soft chatter, Esme's melodic voice flowing through the air to accompany the prominent smell of freshly baked goods.

A small smile pulls at her lips when she takes in the sight of the two of them, Phoenix's arms wrapped around her with her head rested on his shoulder. Emerald can safely say she's never seen two people more in love, nor does she believe she ever will. From the memories that she has of her father, the very few of them, her parents were never like this. They simply yelled at each other, swearing and acting as if their toddler wasn't sitting in the corner with her hands clasped over her ears in fear.

"Morning," Emerald greets, pulling their attention away from one another. Esme's face lights up as she smiles, an expression that the teenage girl wishes she had. The woman has always radiated happiness, positivity even. "Are those muffins?"

"They sure are. I made the blueberry ones, your favourite right?" Esme asks, pushing the basket towards her house guest.

Emerald nods eagerly. "Yeah they are. Thank you,"

The brunette hasn't had blueberry muffins in what feels like forever, and she isn't quite sure how Esme remembers that small, insignificant fact about her. Jewel often just made the ones she liked, when she used to cook for the two of them that is, and Emerald would cringe at the taste of cooked apple.

"They're saying that Snow might actually let us leave our homes," Phoenix speaks, sliding into the seat beside the girl.   It's been a few weeks, a few long weeks, opening up District Eight again will bring great reprieve. "Besides, it's not long until the Quell is announced anyway. I'd imagine that's why he's so eager to end this whole thing,"

The Quarter Quell is a version of The Hunger Games which is even more barbaric than usual. To this day, there's only been two others as they arrive once every twenty five years. The 25th and 50th year, and now, well now it's the 75th. These Games are thought up years in advance, locked away in a box and pulled out when necessary.

The first Quell had been cruel, even more so than the others, because each District held a vote and the tributes with the most votes was thrown into the arena to die essentially. Emerald can only imagine the guilt that must have weighed on those people, forced to end a child's life by writing their name down on a piece of paper. It was meant to serve as a reminder that it was the choice of rebels to have these Games take place, that they were the reason so many children are now deceased.

The second Quell had twice as many tributes of any other games, with each District forced to reap four tributes instead of the usual two. In accordance to the announcement on that day, it was a reminder that for every Capitol citizen, two rebels died. The Victor for these Games still lives on today, Haymitch Abernathy of District Twelve whom Emerald had met the year of her Games and boy was he a lot. The stench of alcohol radiated off him from meters away, thankfully he seemed to have cleaned up his act last year and helped guide two tributes home to their families.

This year, well who knows. With the oncoming rebellion, it wouldn't surprise Emerald if they switched it around a little. Katniss Everdeen is a walking reminder of rebellion as well as her District partner Peeta — they've already gotten to District Eight without even knowing so. This act of defiance wouldn't have been televised for the world to see because it could have encouraged other Districts to act.

Emerald takes a bite of her muffin and hums lightly, as if she's agreeing with him. District Eight is still a part of Panem, and they still must go through the suffering of the Hunger Games. She's sure he's even more eager to cause them suffering after what's just happened.

"Well, I'm looking forward to getting some fresh air," Esme sighs, washing the dishes in the sink. "And I think my garden out back has started to die so I'll need to regrow them,"

"I've quite enjoyed being locked away, honestly. I don't like half the people in this District anyway," Phoenix comments, leaning back in his chair.

"Oh we know," Emerald mummers underneath her breathe, a light smile on her face.

"That poor boy across from us, he's been cooped up in his house all by himself,"

Esme is referring to Silas Whitlock, whom is a Victor like Phoenix and Emerald. He's nineteen years of age now, and won a few years before Emerald had. The boy was supposed to be her mentor, and he was also meant to join her in mentoring last year. However, his mother had fallen gravely ill and there was nobody else to care for her. Surprisingly, Snow had been rather accommodating to his issues, and he got to stay back both times. This is more than likely due to the fact there was other male victors, he wouldn't have been so lucky if there wasn't.

This year Emerald will finally make his acquaintance, all she's ever done his walk by him and offer a small nod of greeting. As his mother has since passed, he's required to complete his duties as a mentor this year. The two of them
will be one of the youngest mentor pairs, besides Katniss and Peeta of course.

"Silas hates the people here more than I do," Phoenix points out and Emerald believes him. He wears the same facial expression every time she sees him, a deep scowl that shows his distaste for everyone and everything around him. "I don't think I've ever even seen him smile,"

She believes that too.

"Stop it. I think I'll invite him over for dinner," Esme speaks.

"Don't be surprised if he turns you down. Probably won't even answer his door," Phoenix interjects before she can say anything further.

"You don't know that. Now, eat your muffins so we can go and watch the announcement,"

Emerald has a few more muffins before retreating to the living room, sitting on the arm chair in the corner as the couple sit down on the lounge. The television flicks on, static quickly replaced by the face of the President as he sits in his fancy office.

"Residents of District Eight," He begins, sipping on a glass of red wine. "I'm pleased to announce that the rebels in your district have been slain and things will now be able to return to normal. These people have disrupted your lives, planted doubts in your minds, and caused hundreds of deaths — peacekeepers and residents of your District both. We ask, that as we finally allow normality to return, that you report any acts of rebellion to the Peacekeepers,"

Phoenix snorts and rolls his eyes because he knows as well as Emerald does that there is hardly a chance of that happening.

"You may now leave your homes, see your family and return to work. The next time you see me will be for the Quarter Quell announcement, which is said to be exciting for all involved,"

There is something about the expression on his face that makes Emerald's skin crawl, a tight lipped smile with wine staining his lips as if it were blood. He is looking forward to the pain and suffering coming.

"Thank you,"

The broadcast fizzles out and the screen goes blank before switching to some Capitol propaganda television show. She often avoids watching the TV anyway, because the constant replays of old Hunger Games give her severe nightmares. She'll never forget the night she switched it on and saw herself, clutching her knees to her chest and sobbing her heart out. Blood coated her hands, staining the front of the shirt she was wearing. It was just after Francisco had died, and she was a wreck.

"I'm worried about those games," Esme breathes.

"Yeah me too," Emerald replies.

All Snow knows is inflicting pain and suffering on people, and she pities those who will have to face his wrath this year.