Author Games: World Seasons

Task Five - Autumn Air - Easter Tributes

April Joy:

Did not hand in.

March Easterwells:

[Custody of March has been handed to MasterOfTheHouse]

When I wake up, the grass is melting, and so are the monster roots. Odd, I thought only snow did that; I guess everything in this arena melts eventually.

If I die, will I melt?

"Of course you won't melt, March." I hear my mother scolding, though she isn't there. A warm smell arrives to my nostrils, and at first it tickles. A small laugh escapes my lips, though my smile turns into a pout as the smell intensifies. I don't like it anymore.

It smells like fire.

(\/) ( . . ) c(")(") [Gamemaker's note; I'm not adding in all the lines just to make it look like a rabbit. Can we please use proper markers from now on?]

The flames are racing through the Justice Building, snarling at the Peacekeepers who are trying to put them out; they wants to live, and they will fight for their life.

The water is spouting from the Peacekeepers' hoses, sizzling in pain as it lands on the fire; it finds the heat unpleasant, just like anyone else. The Peacekeeper's don't seem to understand this as they keep launching the water onto the fire.

One of them turns his head sideways, and our eyes make contact. I thought the tree I was nested in would keep me safe, but the man is walking towards me, his hose pointed right on me.

Water blasts out of the hose, knocking me to the ground. I land with a shocked hiccup, and the Peacekeeper approaches me. "You must be the brat who started this fire." He accuses, with a snarl.

I widen my eyes and put an innocent smile on my face. "Who, me?" I tease, which earns a groan from the man, who I have decided to name Mr Grumpy. "I'd never do that."

"You will never do it again." Mr Grumpy counters, a frightening smile on his face.

"Please don't send me to jail!" I plead, tears running into my eyes. "My mom only has me left, she'll be devastated if she loses me."

Mr Grumpy keeps his smile on his face. "Don't worry, you aren't going to jail..." He tells me, a sly tone hidden in his soothing words. It takes me a while to understand what he means, but then I remember what day it is.

Today is reaping day.

(\/) ( . . ) c(")(")

I am snapped out of my memory by a burning sensation on my arms. I quickly brush off the orange leaf which had landed on me, and the pain stops, though my skin in that spot is darkened and the few arm hairs I had are singed.

The leaves start to fall harder, and the grass hisses in protest as it begins to burn; nature seems to take a turn for the worse as all the beautiful greens, reds and oranges turn to a singed semi-black.

As if things weren't bad enough, Vinella's face appears in the sky. Maybe I'm lucky and this is announcing her death, not another twist. The leaves are bad enough.

Sadly, she begins to talk.

"Better find cover." Vinella mocks, a twinkle in her eye." Her face disappears, leaving me thinking.

"Rotten carrots and bad chocolate!" I mutter, then quickly cover my mouth; if my mother heard me use such language, she'd be scrubbing my tongue with soap, but that doesn't help me calm my fear; the only place that I can think of is the Cornucopia.