First Person Point of View: Becca Blue:
*
After my spectacle, the "miracle" of me being alive, they forced me at gunpoint back inside. Back to my cell, and deep deep underground. The only positive thing is they can't get close to me due to the thousands of tiny and deadly snakes that slither and swirl around my rainbow skirt. They seem to be multiplying, but I vaguely remember Snow saying something about how they were made to rapidly reproduce.
They shove me into a tiny room, dark and cement. Soundproof and not a single might. So as soon as they shut the airtight door...all is dark.
"Oh." I say to myself as I lay on the ground. I am being left here to starve. They can't really do anything else to me besides starving me out. Although, part of me wonders why they didn't just shoot me. They had the guns, they had a wide open shot, but they didn't. Was it empathy? Pity? Not wanting to kill a kid?
Maybe it was the fear of a pristine Capitol soldier stooping down to district level and killing a child.
It doesn't matter now. Here I am, lying in a pitch black room, snakes slithering peacefully around me. I'd die peacefully here. I decided to hum.
Suddenly, the room floods with light as the heavy door is opened once again. Three armed soldiers walk in, and I shrink to the back wall. One of them carries a chair, and sets it in the middle of the room.
In walks President Snow.
He takes a seat in the chair, and the armed soldiers flick on bright flashlights, aiming them at me, like cruel spotlights. Spotlights that I once enjoyed. He only chuckles, and when he opens his mouth, I expect him to taunt me, or show me footage of all the people I once loved and rusted dying.
Instead, in his rough, gruff and old voice, he begins to sing.
"Alouette, gentille alouette
Alouette, je te plumerai
Je te plumerai la tête
Je te plumerai la tête
Et la tête, et la tête
Alouette, Alouette
Oh, oh, oh, oh..."
It must be some sort of Capitol lullaby, because I can't make out the words. Between the wheezes and coughing sounds he makes between the words, I can barely hear the unfamiliar words.
"Alouette, gentille alouette,
Alouette, je te plumerai
Je te plumerai le bec
Je te plumerai le bec
Et le bec, et le bec
Et la tête, et la tête
Alouette, Alouette
Oh, oh, oh, oh..."
He stops the singing, and looks at me. His eyes are unafraid and almost mocking. "There's five more verses, but being an old man like myself, I don't have enough energy to sing the rest."
"How interesting." I rasp, I stay with my back pressed up against the wall. Snakes still circle my skirt, yet they don't attack him, nor the soldiers in the room.
YOU ARE READING
When The Canary Sings
FanfictionBecca Blue is known around District 12 as many things. She is mostly known as the songbird, because of her performances she does. She is always singing and dancing on a stage, taking away everyone's worries and giving them some fun in their dull and...
