Chapter Six

"Have fun at school," Dad stated, kissing both of our cheeks. "Love you!" He called out as we left the house. Mom was already out hunting so Dad had to see us off. I had my backpack looped over one shoulder while Rye had his on both.

"Love you, too, Dad!" We called back, waving at him. His grin was wide as we watched him tease us by shutting the door then opening it again until we were out of sight.

"I like when Dad sees us off to school." Rye smiled, hopping on one foot then both like he was playing hopscotch. I glanced over at him, brushing my braids over my shoulder. Dad had sloppily done them this morning, telling Mom last night that he knew how to do them. He said it was just like tying knots, only, I hope he didn't tie knots into my hair.

"Yeah. Me, too." I agreed, smiling. I wished we could stay home with Mom and Dad all day. I had a lot of fun playing in the leaves and getting my first kill. I wished everyday could be like that.

The sight and sound of the schoolhouse made my smile drop. The idea of being trapped indoors with a bunch of maniacs made me want to run for the meadow. It sounded like a much safe, not to mention, more fun plan.

"Good morning, Willow." Mrs. Belling greeted at the door as I entered in.

"Good morning." I answered back, though my voice sounded like I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Technically, I guess I did. I didn't want to be here so that made me 'grumpy' as Haymitch would say.

I sat down in my desk, waiting for the rest of my classmates to take their seats. I glanced out the window, watching the flock of mockingjays swoop outside. They were a family favorite, in fact, the nation's favorite bird. Mother constantly wears her pin of one. Dad said it was given to her as a gift from her friend, Madge, before the Games. We have scattered symbols of mockingjays everywhere around the nation. They must have been important in the rebellion, otherwise I'm sure they wouldn't be around to this day.

"Okay, class," Mrs. Belling began, gathering our attentions. "To start the day off and get all of our jitters out, we're going to talk about a song."

All of us began to chatter, saying our ideas of what song she was thinking of. There are many songs that we sing as we dance, jump rope, and play games that involve clapping. We all had different ideas about what she could be talking about. "Settle down, settle down." She commanded, gathering our attention again.

"So, how many of you know the valley song?" She asked. Almost everyone's hand went up. Most of our parents sang it to us as babies as lullabies. The few kids who didn't know it turned around in their desks, trying to find someone else who didn't.

"Okay. Good," Mrs. Belling smiled, nodding her head at the number. "Now who wants to sing it?" She asked. Every hand that was up quickly went down, including mine. But as I looked back at Mrs. Belling, I quickly realized that I had to step up to the plate and sing for the class.

Slowly, my hand inched towards the sky. I felt the eyes turn to look at me. Most of the faces smiled at me, glad I was the one to be brave enough to sing. "Perfect. Willow, will you come up to the front?"

As I rose from the desk, Dad's voice began to echo in my head. He told me about the first he fell for my mother. He said that he knew he loved her when the birds stopped to listen to her sing. When she sang me to sleep that night, I noticed how everything became silent, leaning their ears towards her voice.

I stood in front of the class, hoping I could have the same effect on my classmates. Dad said it was passed on from my grandfather to Mom, and I hoped that it was blessed onto me as well. Unless, of course, I inherited Dad's voice, which wasn't meant for singing, only speaking.

"Do you need me to give you a starting pitch?" Mrs. Belling questioned, looking me over. I shook my head, making my braids slightly slap my shoulders. I knew this song by memory. Mom sings it to us every night.

I cleared my voice and closed my eyes. Maybe if I didn't see the crowd, I could sing confidently. I tightened my fists and rocked on my heels.

"Deep in the meadow, under the willow
A bed of grass, a soft green pillow
Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes
And when again they open, the sun will rise."

"Here it's safe, here it's warm
Here the daisies guard you from every harm
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true
Here is the place where I love you."

I opened my eyes, watching my classmates stare in awe. Outside, I could hear the mockingjays picking up my tune, bouncing it back and forth to each other. A blush began to rush onto my cheeks as they smiled at me, not wanting to clap so they wouldn't scare off the mockingjays.

"You may sit down, Willow. That was gorgeous." She congratulated, her hand resting on my shoulder as I walked back to my seat. I sat down, keeping my head forward. I felt good. I felt calm. I felt at peace.

Soon, the birds died down, flying off or finding another tune to hum. "How many of you know what that song meant during the Rebellion?" She questioned, gathering our attention again.

Fin raised his hand, leaning back in his desk. "It was a lullaby to Rue." He briefly stated. I had learned bits and pieces of Rue from school. I knew she was Mom's ally who was killed in the arena. Mom sang her into the afterlife and placed flowers around her. But that was all I knew.

"Very good, Fin. Today, we were going to watch the clip. Now, some of it may seem scary, but this is our history." She explained, her eyes locking with mine. I have to watch this?

She shut off the lights, sending us into a calm darkness. The screen flickered on and the clip began to show on the wall. I clutched my shirt with my fists and began to gnaw on the insides of my cheek. I wasn't prepared for this.

I watched Rue, who I could now give a face to, squirm and shout for Mom. Her voice pierced through the air, sending shivers down my arms and I wasn't even there. Mom rushed to her side and watched as the spear stabbed through the girl who couldn't be much older than me.

I jumped in my desk, watching Mom swiftly hit the attacker in the neck with her arrow. He fell to the ground, no doubt instantly dead as he pulled out the arrow. The cannon boomed, signaling what I predicted. We had learned that cannons tell others when someone dies.

Suddenly, I watched my mother comfort Rue, brushing back her hair. "Sing." Rue croaked, her brown eyes staring into my mother's gray ones. I took notice at how young my mother looked, but her face was full of emotions I couldn't quite place. Anger? Fear? Sadness? I wasn't sure if it was one or many combined.

My mother's hoarse voice began to fill the room, singing the song that I thought was a harmless lullaby. I quickly realized how much of a backstory it held. It wasn't just about sleeping in some meadow where everything is calm and beautiful. It was now some little girl's death song.

The scene cut to my mother placing flowers around Rue's body. She looked like an angel from the way Mom had delicately decorated the flowers in her hair. It was almost as if Rue was asleep and one wrong move would stir her from her peaceful slumber.

The camera cut to my mother holding three fingers to her lips then raised them to the sky. In the background, I could hear the mockingjays singing the valley song to one another, making sure everyone knew it.

My stomach began to churn and I though I was going to hurl. My legs tapped an uneven beat as I tried to bring myself back to reality. That happened over twenty years ago. Everything is okay now. I felt the sweat begin to trickle down my back and my forehead. Why couldn't this be over yet?

Almost as if she could hear my pleas, the screen shut off and she turned back on the lights. Everyone had tears in their eyes, but I thought I was going to pass out. I never wanted to experience something like that again. I didn't want to see what part my mother and father had. I didn't want to see with of them kill anyone again.

"We'll end there for today." Mrs. Belling softly whispered, wiping a tear from her own face. I placed my forehead on my desk and held my arms tight to my body. I watched my mother kill someone I thought.

xxx

I had skipped supper, dismissing it as a stomach ache. In all honestly, I thought if I took one bite that I might hurl it back up. I suppose my mother and father could tell my uneasiness during the day. I came home and just laid on the couch. The images where enough to frighten me.

I quickly changed for bed, hoping maybe I could sleep it off. That usually worked. I slept off bad days most nights anyway. I crawled into bed and rested my head on my pillow, staring at the wall. The cracks around the door almost gave a me a sense of comfort. They showed what the house had been through. Maybe the previous owners hadn't taken care of it as well as us, but it was okay now. Watching the clip today was just a small bump in my road. I would get over it.

Mom peeked into my room, seeing me swarmed in my blankets. She softly smiled, walking over to sit beside me on the floor. "Have a rough day, Pearl?" She asked, running her hand through my hair. My parents had also given me the nickname Pearl, though I had no idea why.

"Just tired." I mumbled back, staring into her soft eyes. They matched the eyes I saw in the clip. Calm, gentle, and comforting. Maybe that's why Rue felt safe enough to drift away into eternal peace in my mother's arms.

"Yeah," Mom sighed, her hand moving my locks from my face. "How about a lullaby?" She asked. I slightly tensed up, then nodded my head. Her voice has always been soothing.

"Deep in the meadow, under the willow
A bed of grass, a soft-"

"No!" I quickly cut off, my hand covering her mouth. I couldn't hear that song. Not now, anyway. It would just haunt me all night if I listened to it again. Images of Rue began to enter my mind, making me feel queasy again.

Her smile faded, maybe realizing what I knew. She kissed my forehead. "I'll find another one. I'll be back." She declared, before walking out of my room. She must know that I know about Rue now. Why else would I request something else?

I heard her in the kitchen, discussing something with my father. I couldn't understand what they were saying. I could only tell who was speaking by the pitch of their voices. Before I knew it, I heard their footsteps walk up the stairs towards my room. They softly smiled, sitting down beside me.

They must know. They must. Otherwise Dad wouldn't have felt the need the tag along to make sure I fell asleep. "Dad has thought of another one." Mom explained, leaning her head towards mine.

I looked into his blue eyes, unsure of what I saw. Was he sad? Sympathetic? Maybe he really did just think I was sick. He reached over, planting a kiss on my forehead, closing my eyes. His tender hands began to run though my hair, making me feel safe and secure.

Mom took this as a chance to try out my new lullaby. Her sweet and gentle voice filled my ears, though I could hardly hear the words after a certain point, only the melody.

"Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where they strung up a man they say who murdered three.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."

Slowly, I felt myself drifting into a calm, peacefully sleep. Dad's movements were comforting and soothing.

"Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where the dead man called out for his love to flee.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."

Outside, everything was silent and quiet, yearning to hear the rest of my mother's tune.

"Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where I told you to run, so we'd both be free.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."

Soon, I felt myself leaving the world, my eyelids becoming heavy. Everything was dark and still. My breathing had slowed down and I could hardly focus on the song anymore.

"Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."

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