#Amos Wyetka

[hungergames-fanfic]

Tour de Wyetka

Today Efrain is coming home with me cause his daddy just started working in Mr. Kwan’s stables. He’s a really old rich man who’s managed to outlive his last stable keeper. He has twice as many horses than us and is really paranoid about who he allows in his home and land. Only reason Mr. Oxoro got to be stable keeper is cause he was a good friend of the previous man, according to Efrain.

My good friend lives an hour away on foot from Littlberg, his family is one of the few that have a gasoline based car. It’s really old, loud and sometimes won’t even start, but it’s what they got. My family ain’t got any cars, daddy says we’re lucky cause we got horses. Cause Efrain would have to walk such a long way home, he’s gonna be staying with me until his daddy gets out.

There are three roads connecting Bloques to Littleberg. The shortest road is seven miles long and it’s a lonely road apart from the only house standing four miles in. Both left and right are open space of drying, sandy land with patches of tall green and yellow grass. From far away small hills and mountains close the land in, giving it the image of it being inside a shallow crater.

A small wired fence wraps around all the open land reaching halfway up the hills. Throughout the open space, cows, calfs and bulls can be seen far apart from each other, some huddled up together, enjoying the tasty grass.

Closer to the house at the forth mile mark, it’s not that hard to spot the unpainted farm house yards away. Next to it, on the right is a large chicken coop the size of a regular house in Bloques. To the left, a small section is closed off by a wooden fence. The side of the farm house, where horses are held is open and allows them to walk freely in within the small enclosure. Out by the farm house doors is a small shed where their water is placed on a large tub. Yards away is an old well we use to fill these up.

Opposite of the horse stables inside the farm house is an open stable where we bring injured animals in order to treat them. This is where I milked Brownie the first time. We kept her there cause sometimes it’s hard to differentiate cows from each other. It’s easier to keep the lactating cow on a short leash than look for it through thirty-seven others within seven miles of land.

On the left side of the house, seen from the front, is a large area kept within another wired fence keeping momma Bilmin’s flowers, vegetables and fruit safe from the pesky cows that enjoy sweetness in their lives. It’s not just cows daddy worries about though. Sometimes kids will be caught sneaking in and stealing the edibles but momma Bilmin told daddy not to do anything. After all, “they steal cause they’re hungry”. Even then, daddy jokes that if they can get past the bee stings, they deserve what they snatched. Momma Bilmin has two wooden crates filled with bees that constantly make honey.

In front of the house is a baby walnut tree thin enough for me to wrap my hands around it. A small, dusty tile passage leads us towards the house. An hacienda style, miniature home the size of two classrooms. The house is naturally orange and the tiles on the roof are just as bright along with two large solar panels. Uncle Amos really outdid himself building this house, and I ain’t officially shown Efrain the inside yet.

Stepping into the house we automatically enter a long hallway. At the end of the hall is a large potted plant blocking a window. Feet from the door is another, but this is a closet. Here we put foldable chairs, umbrellas or rain coats.

“Momma would of made this my room until I outgrew it”, Efrain says chuckling.

To the left are two doorless rooms, one walks us in the kitchen, it’s not that big but it’s perfect in size for momma Bilmin to bake all of her heart’s desires. Across the doorway is a small round table with four chairs.

“This is the breakfast table” I say to Efrain who stares at the colorful square patterns on its surface.

“Y’all have a special table to eat breakfast on?”, Efrain asks wide eyed. “Back home we just got one table but it’s bigger than this”, he adds.

“Is it this big?”, I ask taking him by the hand into the room next to this one. “This is the dinnin’ table. We don’t really eat here unless we got company”, I turn to him and notice the blank facial expression. I think he feels bad cause his table might not be this big. “We wouldn’t even have this table if aunt Lucia hadn’t bought herself an even bigger one”, I say flamboyantly just like she does when she’s tryna be snobby. This makes him chuckle. He witnessed this back at the lake.

To the right, in front of this doorway is another doorless room. This is the living room and the biggest room in the house. Here we have a big brown sofa that matches the interior walls. Next to the sofa is a reclinable chair.

“That’s daddy’s recliner so make sure to never sit on it”, I raise my eyebrows warningly.

Feet away from the sofas is a small table adorned with a potted pink succulent momma Bilmin found while one of her walks with Sasha.

“Who’s that?”, Efrain whispers pointing at the little girl sleeping on the sofa.

“That’s Sasha, momma babysits her while her parents go to work”, I whisper.

On the wall, on top of the chimney we rarely use hangs a big television screen. Here daddy watches the news. It’s just the weather and stuff that happens throughout District 10 like whippings or someone dying on the side of the road. Unless it’s Hunger Games month, all of May they’ll bombard every channel with the games and televisions will even turn themselves on so we won’t have any other choice but to watch. We still don’t, though. We just lower the volume and avoid the living room. I’m not allowed to watch the games.

“You’re not allowed?”, Efrain asks wide eyed. “But that’s where all the cool fightin’ take place”, he says chopping the air with his arms, mimicking a fight stance. He makes me smile.

“Momma Bilmin gets sad when we watch the games. She says it’s so cruel to force children to fight for entertainment”, i inform him.

“My momma said that when she was young watchin’ the games Am-“, I put my hand on Efrain’s mouth and look around. My index finger over my lips, I take his hand and drag him out the living room, down the hall to the second door on the right, passing the restroom.

My room is the smallest in the house but momma Bilmin says she’ll give me hers when I get bigger. I don’t know how I feel about sleeping in the room uncle Amos used to sleep in. In here, to the left of the door is a big bookshelf filled with books, to the right is a tall dresser I hide in when I’m upset. Usually when daddy hits me.

In front of the door, across the room is a small noisy spring bed. I lock the door and explain why my bed sheets are yellow and why that’s my favorite color but Efrain still giggles about it. I pull him under.

“Why are we under your bed?”, he asks.

“I’m not allowed to talk bout uncle Amos”, I admit.

“Why not? Everyone says it was the craziest times in ten”, he says wide eyed with a big smile on his face. Like it were cool or something.

“You know what happened in his games?”, I ask wanting to know everything that he knows.

“You don’t?”, he practically screams.

“Shhh! Just tell me but be really quiet”, I snap.

“Daddy says that this was the fourth hunger games so nobody was used to it yet. Every year when someone’s name was called people would go crazy and start beatin’ on the peacekeepers. When ya uncle Amos got called all ya family started fightin’ them. A lot of people joined up too” he nods matter of factly. “So when the peacekeepers saw that they couldn’t calm them down they started shootin’ all over the place. They done killed ya grandma’s parents, her husband and older brother and then still took ya uncle away. Momma says that this was really traumatic for ya grandma cause even after losin’ everyone she was forced to watch her baby brother play the games”, he says with regret when he notices I’m crying.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you any of that. I forgot momma told me not to”, he admits and stares at me. I nod and let him know it’s ok. Even though what he’s telling me is horrible, I want to know more. I’ve never heard about any of this before and when momma Bilmin told me about it, she just mentioned her husband.

“It was really cool cause Amos killed a lot of tributes, no one in ten has even killed more than two”, he says tapping his fingers on the wooden floor. “Daddy says that cause of him District ten survived the famine. Him and ya grandma helped feed a lot of people throughout the years. That’s why no one likes Tate, all he does is hide in his mansion and show up on Reaping day”, he says.

Tate is District 10’s only living victor. He doesn’t look scary or intimidating, just like any other guy but the fact that he killed someone to stay alive is really scary. His mansion is also really creepy looking. He never goes out.

“That’s why everyone knows who I am?”, I ask. He nods and gives me a shy smile. Tells me the Wyetka’s are famous cause we’re good people. This makes me cry again. What if I don’t grow up to be a good person just like momma Bilmin and uncle Amos?

“Don’t cry Isa, I don’t wanna get in trouble”, he says worriedly. I wipe my tears and stay quiet.

“Did I tell you my daddy got shot when the peacekeepers started shootin’? Said he was bout two years old, mindin’ his baby business when the peacekeepers started wildin’”, he chuckles. “He got shot right here”, he points at his hip. “Said it hurt like a bitch”, he opens his eyes wide and puts his hand over his mouth. We stare and laugh at one another. I ain’t ever cursed before.

“Bitch”, I say wondering if the words can come out my mouth. Efrain laughs and joins in. “Fuuuuck”, he sings showing off his missing front tooth. After a while we start saying every curse word we can think of and laugh out loud at all the funny ways we say them. It’s all fun and games until daddy starts pounding on the door.

“Isadora!”, daddy yells behind it. When I open the door he stands there with his hands on his hip, quiet with a crazy angry look on his face. Did he hear us saying bad words? I want to apologize but what if that’s not what he’s mad about?

“Ya daddy’s here boy”, he says to Efrain who darts out of my room without saying goodbye. Behind him stands momma Bilmin extending her arm for me to take. If she wasn’t here I’d get a beating, I just know it.

Scared out of my mind, I don’t know what to say. What if they heard us talking about uncle Amos? All my life I’ve been told not to talk about him and I ain’t listen. Momma Bilmin ain’t crying though, so maybe they ain’t heard us talking about him. Her and daddy sit at the breakfast table staring at me. Nobody has opened their mouth before I start crying my eyes out. I’m in trouble but I don’t know why.

[hungergames-fanfic]

Feeding the Hungry

Yesterday Wendy and her friends cornered me after school just to call me names. They all laughed when she called me a “fat piece of lard”. I wanted to cry but I didn’t wanna show her she hurt my feelings. I think about how daddy beat up Philip two years ago and day dream about beating up Wendy like that all the time. Daddy won’t teach me how to fight though, and when I ask he tells me he’s gonna put me to work with him in the ranch.

Cause I don’t wanna see that ugly Wendy and her friends, today I faked being sick and it worked. Momma always gets up early to go to work, when she gets up she wakes me up. Normally she doesn’t have any patience but today I cried and told her I wasn’t feeling too well. The tears were real cause I didn’t want to go to school and it worked.

I even got to stay in bed for another hour and everything. Then daddy found out I didn’t go to school and made me go outside and work. It’s always fun being outside because the animals are fun to play with, but I don’t like the work. It’s too much and then my body hurts the next day.

I was having fun feeding carrots to the horses and they loved them so much. I ran out of carrots though. So I went inside and stole some of momma Bilmin’s bread that she makes but daddy caught me. He hit me with the belt and told me to go back inside. Now I have to feed people out front with momma Bilmin. I hate it, it’s boring.

Momma Bilmin sits underneath a walnut tree in the front of our house every day. In the mornings and after school. She always bakes honey walnut bread every night and gives it away the next day.

“Momma, why is everyone so skinny?”, I ask momma Bilmin.

Ms. Downer is always giving me mean looks like she doesn’t like me, but today she’s just staring at me. She’s really short and has a hunched back. All I know about her is that she had a son but he got taken away by the Capitol.

“We don’t all have that good life, Isadora”, Ms. Downer says. She’s looks sad. She thanks momma Bilmin for her bread and leaves.

Momma Bilmin puts her hand on my back and rubs it. We look at each other. She looks thoughtful, she always does when I ask questions. I’m always scared she’s gonna cry but she usually doesnt.

People come and go, everyone takes a piece of bread, smile so happy and leave. Momma Bilmin makes everyone happy. One day I wanna make everyone happy like that too.

When people stop coming down the road so much I start to get bored. More bored than before.

“Can we go inside now, momma?”, I ask.

“Dora, I ever tell you bout this tree?”, she points at the skinny walnut tree.

There aren’t that many trees around here either, it’s just sand, dead grass and funny plants that have needles. One time I poked one and the needle went so deep into my finger momma Bilmin had to use tweezers to take it out.

I look at the tree and shake my head. She’s never told me about this tree before.

“Ya daddy planted it the day he found out ya momma was gon have you”, she says.

“This tree is eight years old too?”, I ask.

“Mhm”, she shakes her head.

“Momma, why did the Capitol take away Ms. Downer’s boy?”.

“We’ll talk bout when you’re older”.

“Wendy says that when the Capitol takes you, you never come back and that if you do it’s cause you killed somebody but that’s okay cause you’ll be rich. Is that true?”.

Momma Bilmin lets out a long breath and looks at me. She’s thinking.

“Momma, did daddy kill somebody and become rich?”, I ask.

Daddy knows how to fight, and he’s super tough. He’s really big and strong and can even pick up calves and carry them around. They’re small but they’re very heavy. I’ve tried to pick them up too but it’s so hard.

Wendy says that I’m rich and that’s why I’m fat. She says that if she was rich she’d buy pretty dresses for her and all her friends. Then she says I have ugly dresses and I don’t wear them right. Says I act like a boy and sit like one. Sometimes I feel like I’m a boy but Wendy says I’m a girl and will never be a boy.

Momma Bilmin stares at the floor.

“No, Polomir ain’t win no games. You know who did though? My brother. His name was Amos”.

“We’re not supposed to talk about him”, I whisper to her.

Momma Bilmin smiles but she doesn’t look happy. She looks sad.

“You remind me of him”, she says combing my long curls behind my ear.

“Uncle Amos killed somebody? Is that why he killed himself? Cause he felt bad?”.

I wish I didn’t ask so many questions. Now momma Bilmin is crying and I feel bad.

“I’m sorry, momma, please don’t cry”, I hug her and she hugs me back.

She wipes a tear off her face and sniffs in her boogers. Pats my back and let’s go of my hug.

“Amos died two years before you were born, did you know that?”, she asks. I shake my head, no. I didn’t.

“He was my little brother. Five years older than Polomir. I had your daddy when I was very young”, she says. “We ain’t used to live here yet”.

“You didn’t have a house?”, I open my eyes wide. I can’t imagine our house not being here. Momma Bilmin laughs. My house is the only house down this very long road. Daddy says all of the land behind and around our house and is ours for miles.

“It was seven of us livin’ in a rundown shack in Bloques”.

Momma says that’s where the poor live and their houses are made of cement and look like square blocks. When daddy takes me with him to sell the cows we go through the town and momma’s right. It smells like pee and all the houses are small. Some are really old and made of wood but they look like the wind could take them down.

Sometimes little kids will be running around naked in the street and they’re very skinny but have big bellies. Even their dogs are skinny. Everyone looks dirty too and some of the people smell like dead animals. Daddy says it’s cause they work in the meat factories.

“I used to babysit ya momma in Littleburg”, she says.

Littleburg is where all the rich people live. All the stores are here too. I asked daddy how come we’re rich but don’t live there and he said it’s cause we’re new money. That the rich people don’t see us any different from those who live in Bloques.

“It wasn’t enough to feed all seven of us and Amos was the only one who could get tesserae. A monthly supply of grain and oil to feed us for a couple of months. Every time he applied for tesserae his name would be added seven times. One for each member in the house”, she says.

“Who did you live with? Why did they add his name?”, I ask. I have so many questions but these are the only two I know how to ask.

“We lived with my husbands family, they were nice enough to give us a roof over our heads because momma didn’t have enough money to buy our own house. It was her, me, ya daddy, Amos, my husband, his sister and his momma”

“Where’s your husband? What happened to them? Why don’t they visit?”, I ask.

“Hold on, now. One question at a time”, she says. “One day, during a Reaping, Amos’ name was called”, I gasp at the news.

“Momma, that’s so scary! I would of cried”, I say. She smiles but looks sad.

“Amos cried. I cried too. We weren’t happy and this was all new to us. It was the 4th Annual Hunger Games”, she says in a fancy voice like the clown lady that comes for reapings every year. “My husband, momma and other people who didn’t like they way our government has been treatin’ us tried to fight so they wouldn’t take Amos and the girl. Jasmine, I think was her name”, she says thinking. “They were shot down like animals in the middle of the street. Then the government took the kids”, her voice goes away and she starts crying again.

“I didn’t think I’d see him again but he won the games”, “he came back home rich!”, I scream and make my arms big. That’s how rich he came back home. Momma Bilmin laughs. She doesn’t look so sad anymore but a tear still falls down her face. She wipes it off.

“Yes, he came back rich. Bought some land, cattle, built this house”, she says turning to look back at the house.

“Then, what happened?”, I ask. Momma Bilmin looks at me for a long time.

“He was traumatized, Dora”, she says. “He killed people but not because he wanted to. He had to. That’s the only way he could come back home”, she says.

“Will I have to kill people too?”, I ask. This scares me.

“No, never. Your momma and daddy work hard to make sure you never have to”, she says.

[hungergames-fanfic]

Uncle Amos

“And who is this youngin’?”, a wrinkly burnt old man says to momma Bilmin. She’s daddy’s momma. Really tall and skinny, very pretty for an old lady. She’s always smiling and giving people food.

“You stink”, I say.

“Isadora Francis Wyetka!”, momma Bilmin snaps at me, “I’m sorry about that John”.

“Naw that’s alright, so used to workin’ in the factory I can’t smell it on me no more”, the ugly man smiles showing off his yellow teeth.

“Momma, is hot”, I say moving my long hair off my shoulder. I don’t like my hair. It’s so long. For what? And why is my hair curly but daddy and mama Bilmin’s hair is straight?

I stand up, fix my poofy pink dress and walk over to daddy. He’s at the front of the carriage because he drove us here. I don’t know where we are but this place is huge. I’m gonna ask daddy a bunch of questions.

“Daddy, why is my hair curly?”.

“Ya mama got curly hair”, he says dusting his cowboy hat. Daddy is big and tough! He’s strong and taller than momma Bilmin! He’s darker than her too, but that’s because he’s always outside.

“Daddy, where are we?”

“We’re in Littleburg, we goin’ to the Plaza”

“Why does momma stay here by herself?”

“Cause she hands out bread”

“Why?”

“Cause people ain’t as lucky, they don’t be havin’ food at home”

“Why?”

“That’s how things are around here, Dora, now quit askin’ so many questions”

“Daddy, why we goin’ to the Plaza”

He lets out a long breath and hops off the carriage. “It’s reaping day, c’mon”, he says and helps me off.

“Momma you good?”, daddy asks momma Bilmin.

“Ain’t gotta worry bout none, Polomir, I’ll keep an eye on her”, the stinky old man says.

“And who gon keep an eye on you?”, daddy and the stinky man smile.

All around us are people walking to the Plaza, where daddy says we’re going. They walk in the middle of the street, but people don’t do that on normal days. That’s what sidewalks are for. There are stores everywhere but a lot of them look closed.

“Daddy what’s goin’ on?”, I ask.

Daddy is about to answer when a funny, dirty looking man comes stumbling to us.

“Wyetka!”, he screams and wobbles. He hiccups and holds his chest, “how bout you spare a coin for an old beggar, huh?”.

“So you can spend it on booze? Naw, Philip”, daddy says. Now that I think about it, he smells like alcohol.

“Oh, yeah?”, Philip says leaning back almost falling. He smiles and looks at me. He points, “this ya first born, huh? How old are ya kid?”.

“Six”, I say.

“Take a step back Philip, you talk to my kid and I’ll pop ya right in the mouth”, daddy says. All I can do is stare at them both.

“You got it good little girl, don’t go killing yaself like dear old uncle Amos”, he laughs but not for long. Daddy lets go of my hand, grabs him by his collar and punches him in the face. Philip lands on the floor and stays there. People come to help him but daddy takes my hand and pulls me away.

“Wow!”, I say. “Daddy that was crazy! Pow!”, I laugh punching the air just like him. “Teach me how to fight like that!”. I’ve always wanted just like daddy.

He stops walking and turns to look at me very serious. He looks mad. “Don’t you go tellin’ ya momma bout this, and don’t be askin’ who Amos is”.

I wanna ask who Amos is now.

The long, hot, boring day finally ends and I wake up on my bed. Daddy must of carried me to my room when I fell asleep on the way home.

Out the window, I see him outside petting the big horned bull. I named him Bully because he’s a bull. Daddy says I need to be careful around Bully cause he doesn’t know his own strength but when I go out and play, Bully likes to play too.

It’s too hot to play outside today so I’m in my room. It’s big and I have a lot of toys. I have books too. I like to read. Momma Bilmin says I’m gonna be smart when I grow up.

I play with my toys, a pink plastic car and a rubber doll I named Jack. She looks like a girl but I cut her hair so that makes her a boy. I sit Jack inside the plastic car and have him drive around the walls all over the house. To scare momma Bilmin I run into the kitchen and put the car on the floor. As hard as I can, I kick it so it looks like Jack is driving but instead the car flips and Jack flies out. He lands on momma Bilmin’s shoulder.

She stops what she’s doing, puts her hands on her hip and gives me a look. She’s mad.

“Momma, who’s Amos? Daddy told me not to ask but that only made me wanna ask”, I wait for her to laugh but she doesn’t.

Momma Bilmin stares at me, folds her arms and leans her hip on the counter. She’s thinking about what to say, but is thinking too long.

“Do you know who he is?”, I ask.

The front door closes and momma’s heels make noise with every step she makes. She’s my real momma and she’s the prettiest woman in the world! She’s not skinny like everyone else, daddy calls her an hourglass and is always hugging and kissing her. Yuck!

Her hair is curly and brown just like mines, and her skin is brown too. Her eyes are light brown and when she paints her lips she makes them brown too.

“Bilmin, what’s wrong?”, momma asks.

My heart beats fast when I see momma Bilmin’s red eyes. She’s gonna cry.

“I’m sorry momma, I ain’t mean to hit you”, I apologize and cry. If daddy finds out I made momma Bilmin cry he’s going to spank me. I don’t want a spanking.

Momma walks over to momma Bilmin and puts her hand on her shoulder. They whisper to one another and momma walks over to me.

“Esperanza, don’t tell Polomir”, momma Bilmin says when momma grabs my arm and takes me to my room.

“Momma please don’t hit me, I’m sorry”, “no one is gonna hit you Dora. I just wanna talk”, she says sitting me on my bed.

“Who told you bout Amos?”, she asks.

“A drunk man told me not to kill myself like Amos”, I say. I don’t tell her daddy punched him. She still makes her eyes big.

“Dora, Amos is Bilmin’s brother. He died before you were born and talkin’ bout him hurts grandma very much. In this house we don’t talk about him, ok? People gonna say a lot of things to you bout him, but don’t listen to anythin’ they say. They didn’t know him so they don’t know the truth”.

“What’s the truth?”, I ask.

“What did I say?”, she asks.

“We not supposed to talk bout him?”.

“That’s right”.

[hungergames-fanfic]

An eventful Monday

The 40th Annual Hunger Games started yesterday morning, a Sunday. Today during class, like every year, we don’t have to watch but I’m dying in curiosity. Ms. Gullard has placed a towel over the hanging television up on the wall corner and has made us write down verbs. She’s also lowered the volume to mute and because the towel is thick enough, I can only see vague shadows on the tv.

Next to me, Wendy sends notes to two of her friends, Cassidy and Orchid. I’m guessing they’re talking about the games and I want to almost ask them but I just know they’ll avoid the question and hurt my feelings. It’s all they’re good at.

During lunch, Efrain and I sit by ourselves as usual and eat. He mentions watching the games but refuses to tell me about it. Says that if I was allowed to watch he’d tell me. Also says that he got a good talking about it.

“Momma gave me a good bitchin’ bout talkin’ bout it at ya house. Said that if I make Ms. Bilmin cry I ain’t gon see the light of day”, he widens his eyes and shakes his head. He stuffs his mouth with peaches from his school lunch.

Since I met Efrain, he hasn’t changed that much except he looks a lot more healthy now. I guess his daddy working at Mr. Kwan’s stables brings in good money and puts food on the table. He’s still thin, but doesn’t look as bony as he used to.

He’s a little bit darker than I am and his hair is curlier than mines. My curls are big and wavy, his are small and abundant sitting at the top of his head. He says his oldest brother Eduardo cuts his hair. Trims the back and sides and leaves it longer at the top. I really like it and sometimes wish I could cut my hair too. Mines is so long sometimes I sit on it.

After school, we go to my house and eat what momma Bilmin has made for us. It’s vegetable and egg fried rice with cooked slices of pork ham. Because Efrain is here, she’s not crying as much as she normally does around this time of year, still her eyes are red and her nose is pink.

Momma Bilmin is so pretty. She ain’t as wrinkly as all the other old people. Her graying hair is long and straight and she’s thin, always wearing pretty yellow dresses. I love the color yellow, it’s the color of sunshine and sunflowers. The color makes me feel happy and warm, just like the sun. She fills our glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice and reminds us to do our homework after we’re done eating.

“That’s a pretty ring, Ms. Bilmin”, Efrain says to her.

On her right hand, on her middle finger she has a gold ring of a horse shoe with small stones on it, inside of it is a horse on its side. She told me it used to be uncle Amos’s but it’s hers now. Momma Bilmin smiles and puckers her lips. Her eyes get watery and she stares at me giving me a painful smile. Without a word, she takes a deep breath and walks out the room. We can hear he sandals make noise as she walks away.

“What did I say?”, Efrain asks me.

“Momma tends to be fragile around this time of year”, I inform him.

While we do our homework outside, sitting under a small tent daddy made for me when I was younger, Efrain tries to call Brownie over to him. She ignores him but her calf, now full grown, runs to us like a big happy dog.

“Daddy made this tent for me so I could spend time outside with him while he worked on the ranch”, I say picking lint off a corner. He pets the cow and it runs off.

“Ya daddy so strict and scary”, Efrain admits.

“No doubt, but I can tell he loves me cause he always wanna spend time together”, I add, “he always wants me to work outside with him, or go to places with him and on the lazy days, he likes to sit in the livin’ room while I read books. He snores really loud and it’s hard to concentrate but I enjoy his company too”.

“My daddy is always workin’, momma‘s sick so she stays home. My big brother Eduardo is always workin’ too, he brings home tessera every now and then”, Efrain says.

“What’s that like?”, I ask wondering what tessera is.

“Well it gets lonely cause it’s usually Felix and me but he acts like he’s too old and cool to hang out”, Efrain says closing his science book.

I don’t correct him and accept the answer. Soon the conversation changes to what he does for fun, which is pretty much what Ignacio said on our birthday. He plays outside with the neighborhood kids but cause it’s hunger games month he watches the games. This calls for my curiosity again.

“What are the games like this year?”, I whisper. I know that every year the games are different and set in different arenas. In fact, one time, on tv I saw that one of the arenas was all tall grasslands and a couple of trees. Everyone was stuck sneaking around.

“It’s swampy”, he says. “A lot of scary animals. So far a boy ran into a body of water and got eaten by a big lizard”, he widens his eyes and nods. This scares me.

“Ain’t the games start yesterday?”, I ask. I’d expect for them to just roam around the place at random and only be killed off by other tributes, I didn’t know that the arena was meant to kill you too.

“That don’t matter in the games. Anything’ can kill you, be it another tribute, the arena or even yourself. Everyone usually just tries to survive the careers though”, he says packing his book in his backpack. He’s done with his homework but I still have a lot of verbs to come up with for mines.

Our conversations change a lot, we go from talking about the games to all the weird animals we’ve seen here in 10. So far I win cause I’ve seen an actual coyote pack but he was pretty close with the feral chickens. After that, we talk about the animal we wish we were, he says he wishes he was one of our cows cause they look like they have it good. We laugh at this. I’m not sure what animal I wish I was, but right now, I think it would be cool to be a bird so I could fly.

“More like a wild chicken”, he jokes and makes a chicken call. This riles up the chickens in the coop and we laugh harder than before.

When his daddy comes to pick him up, mines tells me to go change and that I’ll be going to Efrain’s for a bit while he and Mr. Oxoro go do some errands. In my room, while I put on my shoes, daddy comes in and sits next to me on the bed.

“I know they watch the games at your friends house. I’m allowin’ you to watch them, but when you come back, there will be absolutely no talk about you saw, you understand me?”, he looks at me and points firmly. I nod in agreement. This excites me more than going to Bloques, but I keep the emotion to myself.

We follow Mr. Oxoro’s raggedy car in our wagon and soon, we enter Bloques. I’m not sure what it was that I expected, but it was nothing like this.

The streets are dirty and there’s trash on the corner of roads. It smells like pee and I’m sure the stains on building walls are exactly that. The houses are small squares and made of cement but some have been painted and given personality by their owners. Other houses look like mines but they’re half the size. Some people sit outside theirs and stare at us, kids playing around stop to look at our horses in awe. I see some point at them, others point at us.

“I ain’t ever seen so many houses in one spot”, I say to daddy.

“You see that red, run down house over there”, daddy points. The house looks empty and in shambles. It’s roof is caved in and the door is leaning off it’s hinge. Whoever used to live there must of had nothing if they couldn’t even fix it up.

“That’s where I used to live when I was around ya age”, he says ignoring all the people watching us. I imagine patting myself on the back for not thinking out loud.

After so many turns on so many neighborhoods and so many looks from so many people, some who I think I’ve seen at the Plaza on reapings, we finally arrive to Efrain’s. He lives in a very big gross looking building daddy calls an apartment complex. Our daddies don’t go in with us, they just wave us off and leave on the wagon without saying where they’re headed.

“We have six floors and guess what floor I live in”, Efrain says with an attitude tryna skip steps up the stairs.

“I almost don’t wanna go home no more”, I admit thinking about having to walk all the way down when we finally reach his floor’s hallway.

He laughs and knocks on the first door we reach and tells me we have to wait a little. Through the walls I can hear a baby crying and some loud music playing. Efrain says that’s his neighbors. I’m not used to the ruckus but in a way, I’m having fun just standing here.

When the door opens, a tall teenager opens the door and stares at us funny. He looks like Efrain but older. He’s skinny and just as dark, same haircut and everything except his clothes fit better.

“Where’s dad?”, he says looking at me funny.

“He and Mr. Wyetka went on an errand, this is Isa”, Efrain pats my shoulder. “Isa this is my brother Felix but we call him Fee. Can Isa call you Fee too?”, Efrain asks. Felix smiles and tilts his head swiftly inviting us into their home.

Unlike mines, his living room, dinning room and kitchen are all connected. Down a small hallways are three doors. Efrain tells me the door down the hall is the restroom in case I need it and we sit on an old green patchy, two seater sofa. Their tv ain’t flat or on the wall, it’s fat and huge and sits on a table decorated with little glass tea cups with pretty flowers drawn on them.

To our right is a big open window that leads to the fire escape, says Efrain. Here, his brother steps out and closes the window. He smiles at someone and then they peak their head to look and laugh too. It’s a blonde haired boy I’ve never seen, another teen. In his hand, he has a small stick that he lights with a lighter and sucks. I watch them smoke for a minute before Efrain points it out.

“They smoke that every day”, Efrain rolls his eyes and changes the channel where previously Dan McGee, 10’s news reporter, was talking in front a meat factory. He switches the channel to the games and looks at me with a mischievous smile.

“Daddy says it’s ok to watch, but I can’t talk about it back home”, I inform him. He nods and raises the volume up to the number twelve.

For the first twenty minutes all they show is a bunch of tributes minding their business. The careers, Efrain says they volunteer to be there and train for the “honor”, he quotes his fingers making a silly face, hang at the cornucopia talking to each other. Apparently they spotted someone and are gonna go hunt them down. This makes me feel nervous. Other tributes are shown sneaking around the swampy, muddy arena or climbing tall trees, hiding. Because nothing interesting is happening they replay the bloodbath. I am not emotionally prepared for what I’m about to see because when I do, I get so scared I start to cry.

The cannon blows and everyone runs towards the cornucopia, a boy is followed by the camera, he picks up knives and just as he does, a spear is thrown right at his stomach. This makes me jump. Efrain laughs and says “that must of hurt”. My stomach churns when I see one of the so called careers stab another boy mercilessly. The boy spits blood with every breath and weakly tries to push the career off but he dies before reaching the strength. I can’t help it. This is so scary I start crying immediately.

“What’s wrong Isa?”, Efrain asks scooting closer to me. He puts his arm around my shoulder. I look out the window and spot Felix giving him a thumbs up, one he retracts and sucks in his lips before he and his friend hide attempting to not be seen.

“They’re just killin’ one another like life ain’t mean anythin’”, I say, “like who they used to be never mattered and never will cause they gone. Just a memory to their loved ones. Momma Bilmin has a right to cry. This is horrible”.

“I never thought of it that way”, Efrain says guiltily taking his arm off of me. “Wanna do some else?”, he asks but suddenly jumps up with excitement, “wanna meet my momma? She’s been wantin’ to meet you, c’mon”, he takes my hand and pulls me into the hallway. We enter to the room on the left.

In here, the room is clean and white, colorless and almost empty. All that’s in here is a bed and a dresser. Above the bed is a big picture of her and Mr. Oxoro on their wedding day. She looks pregnant.

It smells like dampness and sickness. A scent I can’t specifically describe. At first, her eyes are closed but she turns her head to see us come in and coughs in a handkerchief. She looks like she’d be very pretty and on the picture above, she is. She’s light skinned and really pale, her lips are almost white and her hair is light blonde. It almost feels like she’s a random lady in their home because Efrain and Felix look nothing like her. They look like his daddy, who’s shorter than her, chubby and dark skinned. He has puffy hair like Olive.

She smiles at me. Efrain pushes me towards her and puts his hand on her arm.

“Momma, this Isa”, he says excitedly.

“Hello, Isa”, she says tiredly with a smile. I smile back. “Efrain’s told me a lot bout you”, she says.

“Momma”, Efrain snaps with his eyes wide open and turns to look at me with an awkward laugh. He scratches the back of his head.

“I’m sleepy baby”, she says to him before he gives her a hug and invites me to leave the room.

When we step out, he runs to the window his brother and friend are at and knocks. With his thumb he points back at me and Felix nods giving him a peace sign. Efrain takes my hand and we head down to the street.

“Where we goin’?”, I ask out of breath.

“I think everyone should be outside right now”, Efrain says skipping steps, going down faster than I.

“What you talkin’ bout?”, I scream at him but he doesn’t answer and leaves me behind.

When I run out the door after him, he’s waving at a bunch of kids playing with a deflated ball. Without skipping a beat, some run up to us. Others spot me and look at each other. They don’t bother to come.

“Why you with her?”, Edwin asks. He’s tanned with shaggy light brown hair. Skinny like most and wears clothes just as big as Efrain’s. He’s sweaty and looks mad that I’m here.

“Isa’s my friend”, Efrain snaps. “Besides, ain’t we been needin’ an extra player for Wendy’s team?”, he points at Wendy who too makes a stink face and nods. She crosses her arms and looks at me.

“She can be on your team, Edwin can join me”, she says.

“No way, she’s a girl, she’s gonna be in yours”, Edwin snaps back.

“Then I’m not playin’”, she says.

“Fine, Isa can take over for ya”, Efrain snaps at her. I stand next to him feeling bad about no one wanting to play with me, but Efrain standing up as my friend makes me feel better.

“Oh c’mon it’s just for today”, another girl says. She has loose and messy pigtails, whatever she ate has stuck to her cheeks and it looks sticky. Her clothes are stained in red and her knee caps are scabbed from having fallen recently. “I’m Wigma”, she says, “I’m the oldest one here cause I’m eleven”. I give her a shy smile.

After some back and forth, Wendy rolls her eyes and accepts me on her team. She doesn’t talk to me at all for the first thirty minutes but after I successfully kick the ball into the middle between two trashcans, where we make a goal, she smiles at me for the first time ever. By the time the game ends, Wigma scores by kicking the deflated ball at a trashcan making it fall back. The boys refuse to accept that as a score and refuse to claim we won, instead they call it a tie. Laughing at them for being in denial, Wendy smiles at me, sweaty and out of breath and high fives me.

One by one, everyone starts to leave. Wigma hugs me goodbye and Wendy just waves. Edwin avoid contact with me and a boy named Lucas just gives me a half smile. Efrain and I stay outside until the sun starts to set, we climb a fence and run around pretending we’re foxes running after feral chickens, whom I learn from they shouldn’t be trifled with.

By the time our daddies get home, they find us running back to them and jumping on top of the wagon with an angered chicken tryna fly and peck at our heads. They smell like alcohol and Mr. Oxoro laughs so hard he falls off the wagon. Daddy laughs and hiccups a burp before he asks Mr. Oxoro if he’s ok.

Waving goodbye to Efrain and Wigma who I spot looking outside the window on the second floor of the apartments, I turn to look at daddy with a big smile.

“You had fun too, daddy?”, I say listening to him chuckle to himself.

“Yep, and I see you did too”, he says pulling me closer, under his sweaty armpits, and hugs me tightly.

“Uh-hu! I did! We watched the games but it was too scary”, I admit, “I never want to watch something so horrible again!”, I snap. Not to him but at myself. I’m upset that I’ve saddened momma Bilmin so many times for wanting to watch. I understand why I’m not allowed and won’t ever ask anymore questions again. I’ve had enough!

“Why do the games exist?”, I ask daddy.

“Cause!”, daddy sings, “how else is the government gonna control us? How else can they remind us that we have no power and mean nothin’? By takin’ our children and forcin’ us to watch them kill each other, that’s how!”, he chuckles and nods. “That’s why I work my ass off! So you never have to be part of that”, he says and kisses my forehead.

“Crud”, he burps. “I think we’re lost”.