For President Snow's Winter Writing Challenge (Hunger Games Ultimate Contests).
Prompt: Write about a character singing to get over the loss of someone/something near Christmas.
Also for Holly and Mistletoe Competition (Hunger Games ::: Contests and Character Chat).
Prompt: Write about a person remembering the past.
.
It was hot and sticky, and Raye couldn't feel her nightclothes through the sheet of sweat that covered her body.
She was just about to drift off to sleep when her sister, who was lying beside her, shifted. Raye was effectively shaken awake, again.
Raye turned to face her sister, glowering.
A bluish light shone through the window, illuminating her sister's sweaty skin. Faintly, Raye could make out her silhouette.
"You woke me up, you dumb-butt," she whispered heatedly.
Rue said nothing and lay serenely with her eyes closed. Raye sniffed in annoyance. She hated it when people didn't respond to her.
She turned back on her other side with a huff. "I'm not talking to you anymore."
Rue still didn't say anything.
"I know you're not asleep," Raye said indignantly.
A moment passed before Raye shouted (in the quietest shout she could muster), "Say something! Apologize for waking me up!"
Rue opened her eyes groggily before glaring at her sister. "Apologize for waking me up, you idiot!"
After a moment, Raye mumbled, "You weren't even sleeping,"
"I was too!"
"Was not."
"How would you know? You're not me."
"Because you moved!"
"Has it ever occurred to you that normal human beings, unlike you, might actually move in their sleep?"
"Shut your face," Raye responded, feeling slightly proud of that brave little act of defiance.
"You shut your face," Rue retorted, turning on her side to face away from her sister.
A few minutes of silence passed, and Rue's breaths became deep and rhythmic.
"Rue," Raye asked meekly, feeling a little lonely,"Sing me a song?"
Rue didn't move. Just when Raye thought she had drifted to sleep, the older girl answered. "Say that you're sorry, first."
Raye, slightly startled by her sister's voice, only nodded.
"Say it."
It never occurred to Raye that her sister couldn't see her nod.
Raye said sarcastically with a sigh, "I'm so sorry, ma'am. Please accept my sincere apology."
"I'm rolling my eyes, Raye."
But soon, Rue's voice could be heard, and Raye fell asleep before the song was over.
.
It was chilly, and Raye couldn't feel her toes.
"Rue?" she asked softly.
"Mmm?" a weary voice responded.
"Can you sing to me?"
Only half a second had passed before Raye heard a familiar voice sing a familiar song.
Raye felt arms wrap around her, and she snuggled into the embrace happily. She fell asleep before the second verse.
.
"Rue?"
"Yes, Raye?"
"Do you like singing?"
"I love it."
"If you love it, I love it too, then."
"Why do you always copy me?"
"I don't always copy you!"
"Give me an example!"
"Why don't you give me an example!"
"This is an example!"
An annoyed woman stormed through the door. "Both of you, hush, for one moment!"
"Yes, mother," the two said in unison.
Their mother left the room, and the two started bickering again, only this time in quiet voices.
For weeks after that small squabble, Raye made sure to sing whenever Rue sang, and she always made sure that she sang a song completely different from the one Rue was. It gave her great satisfaction to see Rue's annoyed expressions.
.
"Rise and shine." Raye's mother came into the room and shook the children awake.
Raye groaned. "Ugh… is it morning already?" She hid her face in the crook of her arm, trying with all her small might to hide from the day.
"It's time for work again."
Rue sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Alright."
Their mother left the room, and the two girls were left to change.
"Can you sing me a song?" Raye asked.
Rue looked at her sister with a sideways glance. "I can sing you a song, but it doesn't mean I'm going to sing you a song."
Raye gave a small 'hmph' of dissatisfaction.
"Alright." Rue gave in.
.
Raye hummed under her breath.
"No singing at the table!" her mother scolded.
Raye shot a glance at Rue and discreetly (or what she thought was discreetly) rolled her eyes.
"Don't roll your eyes at me, young lady!"
"Sorry."
Rue giggled.
.
"Happy birthday, Rue!"
Rue opened her eyes tiredly to meet Raye's excited ones.
"Today's your birthday! You're twelve! You're almost a teenager!"
(Rue didn't mention that it also meant that her name would be placed into the reaping ball. She didn't want to interrupt her sister's oblivion.)
She never did get to be a teenager. What a pity.
.
"You know Fern?"
"Yeah?"
Rue blushed. "Don't tell anybody this."
Raye nodded, curious. "Okay."
Rue leaned in close to her sister and whispered, "I kind of think he's cute."
Raye grinned.
.
"I'm scared," Rue said quietly. Ever so quietly. Every so hopelessly. Ever so honestly. Ever so—You know, it's a lovely day today.
"Of what?"
Rue turned her back to her sister and cried silently into her pillow.
"Nevermind," she choked out.
.
"Rise and shine."
Rue and Raye went through the usual grumbling routine.
"Today you are to wear your best clothes," their mother said sternly.
"Is it Reaping Day already?" Raye asked, unaware that her sister's life would be placed into a glass ball and picked and then slaughtered.
(Rue almost burst out crying at her words.)
.
Raye walked into the square, like, like every other year.
(Rue walked into the square.)
It was gray, and Raye couldn't help but wish for more color.
The escort had been colored on, but she wasn't colorful, and that confused Raye a bit.
.
It was cold, and Raye couldn't feel her heart. Had it stopped? Had it fallen? Had it frozen?
Had it died?
"Would anybody like to volunteer?" an empty voice echoed through the square.
The silence that followed broke her. It shattered her. It made her feel helpless.
And most of all, it made her angry.
Rue made her way up the stage, slowly. Not slowly enough. Never slowly enough.
.
"She's not going to come back, is she, Mama?"
Mama didn't respond.
Hush, little baby, don't say a word.
Shut up.
.
Raye later heard her mother crying.
She sang to herself to forget.
.
Raye knew her sister was gone.
She didn't know who killed her, what killed her, how they killed her, when they killed her (why they killed her), but it didn't matter.
Knowing the answers to her questions wouldn't bring her sister back home, would it?
.
She lay in the cot, on her sister's side. It felt so, so, so, empty. Like a music box that had nothing left to sing. Broken teeth. Broken spring. Broken wheel.
She softly and hesitantly touched the makeshift pillow that her sister used every night. She breathed in its scent. She breathed in Rue. And she tried to lock it in her memory. And she reached into her mind and she tried to recall what her sister was like. What her voice was like.
"Sing me a song?"
Her words met the dark, and the darkness didn't care.
.
Oh, hope, on thee I'll depend.
When troubles are near me you'll be my true friend.
.
The night after, Raye asked again.
"Sing anything. Something."
I'm troubled.
I'm troubled.
I'm troubled in mind.
.
And again.
"Can you sing to me?"
If hope don't help me
I surely will die
.
And again.
"I mean, will you sing to me?"
When ladened with troubles and burdened with grief
To hope in secret I'll go for relief.
.
And again.
"Please sing me a song.
"I said please.
"Please? Pretty please? With a cherry on top please? I promise to do anything. I'll give you my food. My clothes. My finger. My hair. My eye. I won't ever argue with you again. I'll listen to you and do whatever you want. I won't make fun of you again. Even about Fern. I'll even do your chores. I'll do anything…Just…"
Raye felt wetness against her cheek, and she let out a strangled sob. She beat the bed with her tiny fists, and she hated that she couldn't do anything more.
"Rue…"
In dark days of bondage to hope I prayed.
.
"What are you doing, singing out in the cold?" Raye's mother asked. "It's winter-time. Come inside."
"I'm just remembering things."
Raye murmured a tune under her breath, because if nobody was going to sing to her, she would sing for herself.
To help me to bear it, and it gave me its aid.
Original spiritual:
Oh, Jesus, my Saviour, on Thee I'll depend/ When troubles are near me you'll be my true friend
I'm troubled/ I'm troubled/ I'm troubled in mind/ If Jesus don't help me/ I surely will die
When ladened with troubles and burdened with grief/ To Jesus in secret I'll go for relief/ In dark days of bondage to Jesus I prayed/ To help me to bear it, and He gave me His aid.
Thank you for reading.