Peacekeepers: The 49th Annual Hunger Games

District 11

Evangeline

Mason and I were just barely asleep when the sirens went off. I heard him grumble slightly, and his arm gripped around my waist tighter. We'd spent the entire night in a tree, just talking to one another about our lives, our hopes, our dreams. They all included one another. Marriage. A family. That was my idea, until Mason reminded me that they'd have to be put into the reaping every year. I wouldn't raise my child in an environment like that. We scratched the idea of children and agreed on taking in this one white cat that likes to hang around his house.
If they'd known, if the Peacekeepers or President Snow knew that we snuck outside the fence until after curfew, we'd certainly become Avoxs or worse. That may have been the thrill of it all. That we were sneaking out and we could have been risking our lives. It would have been worth it to die next to Mason.
"Mason..." I whispered in a sing-songy voice. I poked his cheek lightly. "Mason Alexander Bridges, we've gotta go to work." The corners of his lips turned upwards in a sleepy smile- the same sleepy smile I love every time I see it. The slight stubble on his face makes me giggle like a little girl, something only Mason can make me do.
"Evangeline," he grumbles, smiling with his eyes closed. "Don't you just wanna skip work for a day?"
"And get our tongues cut out? No thank you. Unlike you, I actually need my voice to work." I worked in the field, with the fruit. It was a wimpy job. Berry picking and such. It was mostly for the children, and that was what I enjoyed doing. I sang to them if they'd get fussy in the early morning or the long hours. A few of them were convinced I was their older sister for a long time, because I was always around.
Mason worked in the mill. He turned eighteen and about three weeks later, he came to me saying he got the job. I never knew what went on at mills, until Mason started working there. We never got to keep any of the portions of the flour he ended up making, but, he did come back with toned muscles, which was a plus.
Mason laughed at me and sat up, stretching and hopping out of the tree. I followed after him, and he caught me in his arms, and before I could protest, he pulled me in for a deep loving kiss, one of the kisses we didn't dare share inside the fence. That would be a waste if time. Everyone knew Mason and I were a couple, but they never thought much about it. The Peacekeepers, they were the real problem. We lived in the world where love was frowned upon. I lead the way back to the main part of Eleven where The Peacekeepers stood at attention in front of each of the houses, making sure everyone it's up and out of bed. I squeezed Mason's hand softly, watching his jaw tick as he looked at them.
"Great, another day of being slaves." He mumbled under his breath. He lost his sister due to The Hunger Games two years before. One of the Career tributes stabbed her in the Cornucopia. She was twelve at the time, and I just remember watching him throw stuff from the kitchen onto the ground. He punched a hole through his wall, he was so angry. I vowed to him that day that everything would be okay, that no one was going to hurt us ever again. We would make sure of that.
"Mason, stop." I whispered to him, squeezing his hand. "They're gonna hear you."
"Who cares?" Mason responded. "They're gonna kill us anyway."
"Not if you stop." I said firmly. "No one is going to kill us, unless you give them a reason to. So don't give them a reason to."
Mason sighed and squeezed my hand. "I love you, Eve. You know that?"
I nodded quietly. "I know." I said.
We broke apart when we reached the mill. We parted with a kiss on the cheek and one last hand squeeze before I walked to the berry field.
"Evangeline!" A young girl squealed. She had to have been about 5 years old, but she was one of the ones convinced I was her sister. I was the youngest of my siblings, all boys; Parker, Root, and Malway. I enjoyed having a younger sister, having someone to look up to me the way I looked up to my brothers growing up. Of course, for them, I was like a rag doll. I was they're test dummy whenever they wanted to do something dumb. Luckily, because of them, I knew how to wrestle quite well, and I was confident in my skills of beating someone to death. If I were ever reaped, that would be my go-to move.
"Hi Maisie!" I said kneeling down and pulling her into a hug. "Have you gotten enough berries today so far?" Maisie showed me her basket filled with some crushed strawberries. I knew she'd get in trouble for the berries not being satisfactory when they checked them at the end of the day. I took a deep breath and grabbed the basket from her. "Here. I'll turn these berries in as mine. And I'll help you gather some more." I told her.
Ten thousand strawberries later, the mockingjays sang their whistle, signaling the end of the workday. As usual, I held Maisie's hand until we reached the tables with the Peacekeepers where they would check the quota for the day. Maisie set her basket on the table, where the Peacekeeper we're assigned to, Point, started to inspect each and every strawberry. Point was the meanest Peacekeeper in Eleven. He particularly hated me, always finding a reason to punish me. Of course, this time, I was giving him a reason.
He let Maisie go, saying she passed, and mumbled "Next." I stepped up to the table. "Oh great, it's a Greenly." He grumbled as he started searching through my basket, inspecting each and every strawberry. He got through about half of them before he found the smashed ones that Maisie had picked.
"What the hell are these?!" He shouted. Without even a second to let me think, his fist collided with my face. The taste of blood filled my mouth, from the blood pouring out of my nose. Point stepped over to me and pulled me up by the hair, growling at me. "Let's go to the square, why don't we?"
He dragged me by my hair to the whipping post. I'd been there multiple times, sometimes for hours on end. The scars on my back had numbed over time, injured to the point my back was now only a lump of scar tissue.
This time, when he shackled my hands in and pulled the whip out, he wanted to make sure the entire District was watching. The other peacekeepers gathered a circle around us, as Point raised the whip and set it down with a crack on my back. The high pitched screech that escaped my lips couldn't be heard over the screams of someone in the crowd, pleading Point to stop.
"Mason, just go!" I shouted, wincing at the second hit. Mason rushed up and pulled Point away from me. I heard another crack of the whip, and Mason fell beside me.
"You wanna take her place, boy?" Point sneered.
"Anytime, day or night," Mason stammered.
"Mason, just get out of here!" I shouted again as Point unshackled me. My father and brother rush forward, helping me up.
"What...about...Mason?" I choked out as I watched the whip thrown down on him again.
"Nevermind, about Mason, Eva. We're taking you to the doctor."