Dystopian Fiction Stuff Just For Funsies, Based On The Hunger Games "Hanging Tree" Song Cuz I Was Inspired

Dystopian fiction stuff just for funsies, based on the Hunger Games "Hanging Tree" song cuz I was inspired by the different renditions of this song on Tiktok hahaha don't mind me cuz I'm boooooooooorrrrrrrrrreeedddddddd

This song is about a tree with birdcages on its branches. Cordelia encounters this tree during her time on the Surface. The tree with its birdcages look like a tree bearing fruits--except in this case, the "fruits" are the birds trapped in the cages; hence, the name "Birding Tree".

POV (Jasper taking Cordelia to the Birding Tree)

"I...I'm so sorry. About your gram'ma," I managed.

Jasper smiled as we continued treading through the grass. "Thanks...there was this lullaby she used to sing me. When I--when she passed, that lullaby, that was the first thing that came to mind. Funny, isn't it? I'd totally forgotten about it. It'd been years since she last sang it to me."

"Sorry, what--lala...bye?"

"Lull-a-by," he enunciated. "It's a bedtime song. Well, I don't know if it's actually written to be a lullaby, but she sang that to me at night."

"I didn't know you could sing someone to sleep." I probably sounded stupid saying that. He laughed.

"You learn something new everyday, huh?"

"When you've lived under the Surface, or 'under a rock', as you say, as long as I have, there's only so much you know," I quipped. "So, how did this...lull-a-by go?"

"Pardon?"

"Do you think you could...sing it to me? If you don't mind, of course."

He hesitated, looking around for a bit. "I guess I could. Since it's just you and me." He winked, and I could have sworn I almost tripped on air.

Are you...are you...

Comin' to the tree

We struck down a birdie

Singing in the breeze

Strange things have happened here,

No stranger would it be,

If we took...this birdie...

To the Birding Tree

Are you...are you...

Comin' to the tree

Hear a choir of birdsong

Raging to be free

Strange things have happened here

No stranger would it be,

If we took...these birdies...

To the Birding Tree

Are you...are you...

Comin' to the tree

Build a nest in this cage

Side by side with me

Strange things have happened here

No stranger would it be,

If Birdie stays awhile,

Here in the Birding Tree

We reached the top of the hill, and there was the tree. It had round little birdcages, hanging on its branches, like striped, hollowed-out apples. Each birdcage housed a little bird, tweeting away, looking around from its little abode.

"And, here we have it. The Birding Tree. Ta-daaaa...", he introduced lamely on purpose, and I laughed.

Random dystopian fiction lore just for funsies

Cordelia learned about her Namesake from the previous century. Past-Cordelia had a rebellious streak. She was very carefree.

Past-Cordelia actually came from the Surface, but was curious and inquisitive. She saw a curious-looking manhole (the same one that Present-Cordelia crawled out of when she escaped) and crawled in.

Past-Cordelia's presence in the Colony caused quite the outrage. The Colony authorities could not afford to let slip that an Outsider had crawled in, lest the rest of the Colony realise that there were indeed people dwelling on the Surface and that everything that they had been taught was a lie.

Unbeknownst to the Underground, Past-Cordelia was actually a spy sent to the Underground.

More dystopian just-for-funsies stuff cuz I'm bored

Cordelia runs for her life in utter terror when she sees the barbaric procedure of Chipping, an integral part of the Integration. It involves a lobotomy, with that section of the brain responsible for making autonomous decisions being replaced with the Chip; ostensibly for identification purposes, the Chip is actually meant to monitor your every thought, and serve as a system override should you even entertain the mere notion of rebelling or anything remotely un-Colony-like.

So this is the price of Integration.

She chillingly remembers all the times she and her Batch-mates Misbehaved*, and the Caretakers took on a robotic gaze, eyes blank and unfeeling, as they reprimanded them in an uncanny, robotic tone. Those blank stares, those blank scoldings, the kind that deterred her and her Batch-mates from their prying curiosity with their inexplicable creepiness; they were all the same. Did their own minds even belong to them anymore?

Cordelia escapes, unwittingly to the Surface, where she finds that not everything was what she was taught it would be.

POV

I see a bright light at the end of the tunnel. Strange, how this exact same sentence is used to describe one's last moments in pre-Disaster literature. I shield my eyes from this strange, new sun and...

"Whoa."

*Misbehaved = not referring to mischief in general, but to "Untrustworthy" behaviour indicating distrust of the Colony or outright rebellion

Dystopian fiction stuff just for funsies

The Surface. A place once filled with life, water and all the right temperatures.

Until the Disaster struck.

Within seconds, all life on the Surface was totally wiped out. Except for one little Group, safely hiding Underground. This Group expanded and formed an entire Colony under the Surface. Now, it's our home. Where everything is powered by the Core. Our "sun", if you will. Everything is safe, warm and protected against whatever ghastly threats lie on the Surface.

They give us Tagged bracelets as children to keep an eye on us so we don't go too near to the Surface--or anywhere dangerous, for that matter--and at the age of twenty, the Tag is replaced with a Chip for our identification, and you are officially considered fully Integrated into the Colony.

At the age of twenty, during said Integration, everyone is sorted into specific Categories with respective Roles to serve the Colony. The Category you get sorted into becomes your second name; a Surname. Your Category basically becomes your "family", in pre-Disaster speak. All these Roles go into upkeeping the Colony, and ultimately the Core; and, in the unlikely worst-case-scenario, prevent the Core from burning out. Or even exploding. Which will never happen, by the way, so don't you dare dwell on that definitely-never-gonna-happen scenario. Ever.

Every Batch of babies is genetically engineered to have the most optimal thriving traits, before they are all Inducted into the Colony. And no, they don't live inside women's bellies, or whatever they did back in the pre-Disaster days. The Genes that go into producing each baby are arranged and re-ordered ever so meticulously, as to ensure the best results for a healthy baby.

The Induction is basically a welcoming ceremony for these babies. It is where the babies--1,000,000 per Batch--are "born", so to speak in pre-Disaster vocabulary, as well as given a Name from the Naming Cycle. Every Century, the Naming Cycle undergoes a Rotation. So every individual has a Namesake from every previous Century. A Newborn baby is Inducted; 20 years later, they get Integrated.

My name is Cordelia, and soon, I will be fully Integrated, with my very own Role in the Colony.

Dystopian fiction

"Miss Lynn," A young Cordelia called her one night as she lay in bed. Lynn was just getting ready to leave the Wards' Dormitories.

"Yes, Cordelia?" Despite them being mere Caretaker and Ward (and despite Cordelia being only one of 1,000,000 Wards in her Batch), they have a very close relationship, almost like a mother and daughter, but in secret; family-like bonds were highly discouraged in the Colony.

"Has anyone ever tried going to the Surface before?"

Lynn paused, looking for the right words to say. It was a sensitive issue, and she wasn't sure if this was the right time to tell her. But Cordy seemed old enough; she would understand. Lynn looked around furtively, before going to Cordelia's bedside and whispered, "I'm gonna tell you a little secret. Okay?"

Cordelia lit up and nodded enthusiastically. She loved being trusted with secrets. It made her feel important; like a Treasurer keeping the most valuable treasures under lock and key. It was mostly things like each other's favourite colour or deepest fears, which Caretakers weren't supposed to share with their Wards. This secret felt especially important. Valuable, even.

"Once upon a time, there was a girl named Cordelia."

"Me?"

"Well, not exactly you. Your Namesake from last century." Cordelia didn't know what that meant, but she continued listening. "This Cordelia was a curious young lady. She once stumbled into the Colony from the Surface."

"WHAT!" Cordelia yelled out impulsively, and Lynn quickly shushed her in a panic. Cordelia immediately put her hands to her mouth. "I mean, what?"

Lynn glanced around quickly, hoping the ensuing silence would erase any evidence of her storytelling. Not a peep. She silently exhaled in relief before continuing the story. "No one knew how she got here. No one knew how she even knew how to get in. But they had to get rid of her."

"No!" Present-Cordelia gasped in horror, quietly this time.

"Oh, yes," Lynn affirmed. "They couldn't let anyone--" she looked around again, "anyone, know that there were still dwellers on the Surface."

"But I thought there was no way anyone could survive on the Surface," she said.

"That's what they teach you in School, Cordelia. That's why this is a secret."

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