Living with Jennifer Lawrence

[18:] Flying

Mockingjay part 2 was already almost done at this point in time. (In real life). I'm sorry it's not that accurate, please just bear with me.

 
Maddie's P.O.V.

“Do you have all of your bags packed up and ready to go?” Jen asks me while zipping, or trying to zip her suitcase shut.

“Almost,” I reply honestly. I had one more to go. “What else should I pack? I think I got mostly everything, Jen.”

“Bring something that reminds you of home. We'll be there for a while. First we'll go to Atlanta to wrap up production, then Paris, you know that, right?”

I nod in response. I went with Jen to Atlanta last year, when they were filming Catching Fire.

“But, Francis says that we're filming both movies back to back. Once we finish part one, then we immediately begin part two, which should take almost a year. Besides, there'll be a tutor for you guys. And maybe you can hang out with Willow. She misses you, you know.”

“Okay,” I tell her.

Now. . .what's something that will remind me of home?

I stood there for a few moments, thinking really hard about this.

Then it hit me. My diary!

You all remember when I used to write in that old thing. I remember my running away days. How hard it was to survive, but managed to at twelve years old.

I hid it under the mattress, so no one will find it. Mainly it describes my journey and feelings, but still, I need my privacy.

I walk down the hall into my room, and feel under the mattress for my journal/diary, whatever you want to call it.

Eventually I find it and a feeling of nostalgia rushes through me. I hadn't thought about Mr. and Mrs. Smith since I last saw them. I still can't believe the system allowed them to take in another kid. They probably torture that little girl and there's nothing I can do. Really, what can a fourteen year old do for a foster child? I was in there once, and you saw what happened to me.

Just because they were cruel to me doesn't mean I can't care about them. I do, but only just a little.

You know, for the longest time, I've been wondering how Mrs. Smith is doing.

***

Mrs. Smith's P.O.V.

We stayed in California. “We” meaning me and Lucia. Steven, my now ex-husband, stayed in Chicago. I mean, where was he gonna go?

Lucia turned ten recently, and I've treated her how a child should be treated. She isn't neglected. She gets her three meals a day along with snacks in between. She goes to school here in San Francisco and has actually made friends, despite of everything.

She's in school now, so I'm stuck in our condo alone, staring at my graying hair. I'm not that old, but I won't reveal my age, because you never ask an older woman her age.

My hair used to be a beautiful red-orange. You know, naturally. So many people dye their heads red these days.

Time to dye it.

Lucia and have gotten along just fine here and she's forgiven me for the way I've treated her.

I'm just glad everything is gonna be all right.

***

Maddie's P.O.V.

By now we boarded the plane and Jason to panic. I could tell by the look in his eyes and how he was breathing rapidly.

“Calm down,” I tell him. “You'll be asleep most of the trip. All you gotta to is get on. It can't crash if it never left the ground.”

He nodded but still looked worried.

We sat in our seats, making sure Jason was no where near the window. Jen said in the middle, I got the window seat, and Jason was on Jen's left, or the edge.

Jen dug into her purse, pulling out a bottle of Nyquil along with a mini cup that goes with it.

Jason didn't even hesitate. He swallowed it in one gulp and within minutes, he passed out.

I glanced at him. “At least he's on the plane,” I whispered to Jen.

“Yeah, that's good news.”

I yawned.

“Maybe you should be like your brother and get some sleep, you'll need all the energy you can get.”

“Yeah,” I yawn again. “You're probably right.”

It wasn't before long that I fell asleep and dreamed about stars.

***

I woke up, and we were still on the plane. Jason was sound asleep still, and when I looked out the window, the sky was dark. It was now night time.

Jen was awake, surprisingly.

“How long have I been asleep?” I ask her.

“Couple hours,” she replied. “Can't sleep. Have a lot on my mind. I wish I could play games on my phone, but I don't think I can.”

“What's on your mind? Want to talk about it?”

“No, it's okay. Just thinking about stuff.”

I hope she's okay.