The Untold Saga of the Mellark Children, Part 5

Rue awoke in the dark, both figuratively and literally. She was aware of the fact her eyes, wrists, and ankles were bound, but not much else. Her mind was foggy, like she'd been drugged, and could not remember anything beyond hearing footsteps behind her. Slowly, after a little while, she regained her thoughts and memory.

She had been walking through the streets of her district, 12, at about 20 minutes past 9 P.M. Rue was rushing to get home because her journalist work had her in The Capitol for a while, and she had to pay a visit to her brother, Cinna. Her car hadn't been returned to her yet from her travels, so she was forced to walk about 6 miles in her business heels, which she was not too happy about. After 2 miles, she had oozy blisters, which freaked her out, and Rue wallowed in her awful mood as she took step after aching step across the darkened avenue. Then, she heard heavy footfalls behind her. Turning swiftly, a sudden rush of adrenaline consumed her, but she saw no one in the dark night. Ignoring her blisters, she began to speed walk, then run, but the steps continues still. A rock struck against her foot, and she began to fall, but not before an unknown arm caught her...and another whacked her with tremendous force on the back of her ponytailed head, knocking her out cold.

A knife cut off her blindfold, and Rue's sapphire-blue eyes unfocused in the sudden exposure to a bright light above her head. Still temporarily blind, the smudgy figure in front of her didn't match with the voice she heard.
"Are you sure this it the right one?" said a baritone, gruff sort of voice.
"Positive, absolutely positive," responded a higher, but equally gruff voice.
"Hey Rue," the baritone voice said to her, "remember me?"
Her eyes focused, and her jaw fell to the floor.
"C-C-CLAUDE?!"
"That's right, Rue! It's your grade-school buddy, Claude! And guess who's with me?"
Blood-red nails scraped at Rue's face slowly, leaving white marks on her cheek. A face, heavily coated with makeup, popped up half a centimeter from Rue's. Before she could take it in, the face smiled grimly and said, "It's HATTIE!!"
Claude stepped up beside his accomplice with an evil smirk. He was clearly thrilled by the fear behind Rue's blue eyes.
"I-I have 1 question, C-Claude." Rue made a fruitless attemtpt at appearing without fear. "Why kidnap m-me? If it's b-because I left school, that wasn't m-my fault."
"Sweetheart, this is so much bigger than you can imagine. When you left school, people began to wonder why little Mellark had gone right after the new teacher came. Ms. Trimmer wanted the old ways, the way things were before the final Hunger Games, and she fixed us to be just like her, and we want the old ways. Your parents are powerful, influential, and they don't think like we do, which is a problem. Origionally, we were just going to kill them, quietly, but then we heard of their children. Cinna fell away, and if he were to-heh heh-be hurt, your family wouldn't react as much as they would if it was their daughter, Rue. Little, perfect, sucsessful Rue, all alone in the dark, with no one to help her. But we offer them a chance to recover their angel girl: just give us 50,000 dollars and a TV spot where they say they want the old ways back. Really a small price for such a gem," he said as his clammy hand brushed Rue's injured cheek. She shuddered at his touch.

About this time, Cinna decides to bust in the door.

The Untold Saga of the Mellark Children, Part 4

Have you been wondering where Cinna Mellark's been all this time? I'm going to catch you up on his story, because the brother-sister duo are going to come together in these next few sections. Please comment! It's the only way I'll know if you like anything I've done!

"CINNA?!"
The surprised look on Rue's face was pure gold. She had no idea I was coming, thought Cinna. Her surprise turned to a giant grin that he matched. The next 5 minutes was a flurry of hugs, smiles, and tons of frantic questions.
"Where have you been? Geez, how tall are you now? Why didn't you ever respond to my calls or letters? Oh my gosh, you look completely different!"
"For cryin' out loud, Rue! Stop talking for half a second and let me answer!"
Rue collapsed onto the ancient leather couch that had sat in the family room since their childhood. Breathless and excited, she had no energy left to respond. Cinna sat next to his long-lost sister and started filling her in on the past few months since they'd last met.
He'd been working long and hard in the rolling hills and fields of District 11, right next door, to try and pay the bills of his new apartment he could barely afford. The friction between him and his mother got so intense, he decided to move out. The descision was made rashly, however, and he didn't pick as well as Rue did someplace to live. The stress was incredible, trying to keep his parents at a distance, the 15-hour workdays, the crime and drugs enveloping his inner-city area. Just trying to get by was giving him migranes that kept him from work, which cut into his paycheck that was too small already, which caused more stress...worry lines already creased the brow of this 19-year old man. Rue now understood why he hadn't called or written--it was just too painful, too hard to relay his crumbling life to her. When he finished, Cinna started massaging his temple with a boiling expression on his face. His dismal little apartment reflected it perfectly. Without any warning, he jumped up and said, "Well, nice seeing you again, Rue. Hope you have a good time working for the paper." Completely stunned, Rue allowed him to push her out the door without another word.
***
A note was pasted to Cinna's door. Ripping it off the cheap plexiglass, his dark gray eyes scanned the words. Suddenly, his eyes widen, making them seem grayer than ever. With trembling fingers, he pulls something from the envelope attached to the note. He mutters, "No way on earth..." and stops short when he sees it.
A scrap of fabric, black pinstripe.
The suit.
Rue's suit.
Cinna dashes inside, quick as lightning. He grabs a shotgun and a cell phone before racing to his clunky old car.

The note is a ransom note.

My Artistires, which will knock your shoes AND socks off

Et voila!

This is actually a school project due tomorrow, so you're getting an inside look!

This is the oil pastel version which I almost used, but didn't thanks to a certain person's critique and suggestions (this person also shares my blood and was celebrated today with toast and a present she'd already read.)

If you don't know what it is, which is a common mistake, it's a girl with her hair over her face. I call it, Girl With Hair Over Face.

This is from an activity book with guided drawing stuff. My paintings used to look rather primitive, but they are much improved now thanks to the pastel how-to bok I found!

Last but not least, these are based on my sister's purple Chucks. The white tiled part is our bathroom floor before we changed it.

Thanks for watching my online art show! :-]