There were times like these where I didn’t really want to be alive anymore. I’d spent the morning at the Academy and for the fifty millionth time since my time there, I’d heard yet more backhanded comments, from people that didn’t even know me. I was supposed to train until my shift at the bar started but at the way it was going - I really didn’t see me lasting that long until I lashed out at someone. As early afternoon came by, I left the Academy, happy that when I returned there tomorrow two people wouldn’t be there, two less people to make me feel like crap. I head down to the beach first, six pm was about the time where people were eating their dinner so the majority of the District was empty. I went down to a spot I used to go to all the time when I was a child and when I scared. It was a small rock pool inside of a cave that supposedly brought bad luck to everyone who entered. But at times like these I really didn’t think that my life could get any worse.
This was also the time that I prayed. Religion was something that not many people believed in, they thought that it made people vulnerable but it made me stronger, and it made me feel less alone. I go down onto my knees and clasp my hands together. I didn’t really know who was up there, if anyone was up there or what I called them but I had always thought that there was. “I’ve just had a really bad day.” a few tears fell from my eyes and I sniffed before just sitting in silence for a couple of minutes. The cave was comfortable, it was safe and like home but unfortunately I had to leave to go to work.
Fortunately for me, it was relatively empty today. Most people were at home with their family’s preparing to not be Reaped tomorrow, but the ones that were here were even worse. They were the ones that had no family, but had money to waste - and in this case, to drink away. There were also a group of guys from the Academy, I did recognise some of them, others were older than Reaping age. I could feel their eyes on me already and David, the owner of the bar pushed me over towards them. I felt extremely uncomfortable around them so I just had to put on my game face as I approached them.
“What would you guys like to drink?”
“Well I wouldn’t mind a taste of you babe.” one of the older ones growled at me before grabbing onto my ass with his big, filthy hands. The way he touched me just made bile rise up in my throat, and I grabbed his wrist and pulled it away from me before twisting it out of shape and smiled at little at the snap I heard. The boy fell to the ground in pain and I walked away, I’d told David, if anyone disrespects me I will not serve him - however this man just didn’t get the message. Jeered on by his equally repulsive friends, he stood up and came towards me again and before I would run away, but I didn’t, I stood my ground and dug my hand into my pocket.
“How are you going to do that to me baby? Come on… kiss it better…” his words were slurred and his movements were lazy and slow but his grip was tight, and if he wanted to, he could probably snap my arm in half. I took the switchblade in my pocket out and dug it into the flesh of his arm and at the sight of the blood he screamed and pulled away.
"If you touch me one more fucking time, I’ll cut your god damn throat!” and finally, he pulled away. The bar was silent, all eyes were on me. The weird girl with purple and blue hair. I took off my small apron, and handed it to David.
“I quit.” I didn’t deserve this, I didn’t deserve any of this. I left with no regrets and headed back to the cave. I couldn’t go home to the orphanage like this - nor did I want to.
Sleep. That’s all I needed, that’s all I ever needed, and that’s all I was always lacking. No matter what I couldn’t sleep, I’m always rolling around like an idiot in my bed trying to find a comfy position, or trying to stop my head from racing at a thousand miles per hour while trying to calm myself down. Only once my mind was tired then I would sleep. Yet, when the days slowly ticked away and the calendar came back to the reaping day that’s when my mind seems to go on overdrive, where no matter how hard I shut my eyes my mind wouldn’t just take a rest, it would just keep racing. What if I was next? What if I die? And yet, would that be a bad thing? I mean is dying really that bad considering in what kind of a world we live in? In a world I live in? Where I can barely get up every morning and where it’s a task just to do the simplest of things? Is that really so bad to walk away from?
Looking to the side to where the clock was I saw just stared at the time – 7:27AM. It seemed to tick by so quickly. Not just this night, but my entire life. Just thinking at this moment, so much has gone by in such little time, and I have barely accomplished anything. I’ve wallowed away in my bed while others went out doing stuff with their lives, finding love, creating inventions, helping society grow as a whole, and me? What have I done? Nothing. Maybe mom and dad are right, maybe there really is nothing more to me. I mean, I just lay here all the time anyway, not like there’s a difference if I disappear or not is there?
Turning onto my back I just looked up at the ceiling, looking at it attempting to imagine something, anything. Something that shows that I have a worth that shows that I really can think of something good and that there is that hope for me, that maybe I will amount to something, but no. My mind keeps running a blank. It’s still racing though, going through each and every idea, trying to find one that might work, that might be realistic. And it kept going, and going, and going…and then before I realized it my eyes began to slowly close shut and finally I got something that I wanted…just a little bit of sleep.
*
Boom
The sound of a cannon was heard and that’s when my eyes jolted open, sitting up instantly and panting I looked around the room with my bloodshot eyes. Hands clenching my head I attempted to calm myself down, it was a dream, nothing else. My heart was racing, but from what I couldn’t know, all I heard was the gunshot and all I felt was fear, but as for what I remember, nothing that was the answer. Looking to the side I stared at the clock – 2:54PM. I had slept most of the day off, so I did the usual. Anytime I can’t sleep that’s what happens, I stay awake throughout the entire night and fall asleep the next morning, sleep through the day then repeat it all again, the life of a kid who knows what he’s doing.
Moving the sheets, I got out of bed and made my way towards the bathroom, instantly staring at my reflection the moment I saw it and looking into my bloodshot eyes. I was still so tired, no matter how much sleep I got the feeling of tiredness never leaves my body…ever. Splashing my face, I made myself look somewhat presentable before I went down, throwing on a pair of jeans and a plain blue shirt; hopefully my mom didn’t know that I was sleeping the whole time.
Slowly, I made my way down the stairs, a little thought in my mind hoping that neither my father nor my mother were downstairs, and so I went to the kitchen only to find what I hoped I wouldn’t, my mother. She was working on some other recipe that she always does, wanting to find something new to cook. Standing there for a long moment, I slowly began to walk up to the fridge to get something to eat for the last meal I had was yesterday’s lunch. Just before my hand was about to touch the hinge on the fridge the voice that I ever so did not want to hear called out to me.
“So where have you been…” She asked in that tone that said, you better give me a good answer or you’ll regret it.
“In my room.”
“What were you doing?”
“Cleaning it up, making it look nice.”
“Why?”
“Because I just was…”
“Are you sure you weren’t wasting your day away sleeping like you always do?”
To that I had no response. I could already tell this was going to be one of those battles that I can’t win. No matter what you say, or how hard you argue, the woman will always say she’s right and that you’re always in the wrong. She’ll just find a way to manipulate what you say and use it against you.
“I asked you a question.” She hissed, but I just continued to ignore her.
Opening up the fridge, I checked to see what I could eat not realizing that she had turned around to stare right at me. I pull out a little sandwich that I made for myself yesterday that I never got a chance to eat and turned around to just see that face, it wasn’t her face that frightened me, but what it was saying – I just knew it all too well – that face of disappointment.
“I just don’t get you. I mean, what do you actually do? Huh? You lay in bed sleeping half the time, but how does that benefit you? What do you do to benefit yourself? Is there anything? You don’t read books, you don’t write, play any sports. Not only are you stupid, but you’re weak; for a seventeen year old boy you have almost no muscle, and why? Well I’ll tell you why, because you do nothing. If you want to end up living somewhat decently you have to start doing something with your life, otherwise you’re never going to make it.” Pausing for a long moment, she brushed a hair away from her face and shook her head, turning around to get back at what she was doing.
“You’re just a disgrace to this family Calin. Look at your father and I, we’re known and respected in this district, and in the capitol, and you…well…you’re just there. If you get reaped tomorrow, just remember you deserve it and what’s coming to you after it, because you are nothing.”
I paused there, and I could feel myself going back into my dark place, I stared at the floor, that last sentence striking the hardest as it kept repeating itself in my head. Walking out the kitchen I didn’t go back to my bedroom like I always do, no, I got my shoes on and went out the front door. She was right, that’s what hurt the most about all of that, the fact that I am nothing and she just proves my point. The second I walked out the door, I began to run. I wasn’t sure where I was running to, but I just kept going. I wasn’t thinking anything, my mind was pulling a blank and I just kept going and going. Rushing past people and cutting corners I finally came to a halt, panting heavily, I didn’t even know how long I’d been running for, it felt like only a minute but even I know it was much longer than that. I must have been a couple miles away from home by now since I was basically at the outskirts of the city.
There weren’t as many buildings or factories scaling the district, instead it was the one open field just off to the side of the district untouched, and so I made my way to it and collapsed onto the soft grass, staring up into the clouds. I watched as they slowly passed by, as my life slowly ticked away.
Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing if I was reaped…maybe if I was reaped I could at least save whatever poor boy would be reaped in my place this year, it wouldn’t be a long term solution, but at least nobody else would have to worry, at least for this year.
I do deserve to get reaped…and I do deserve to get what’s coming after that…I mean…
I’m nothing.
Closing my eyes I let my mind to drift away, still lying on the field as I attempted to get the little thing that I ever got most, and that was just a little bit of sleep.
There were two people I disliked the most in the world right now and it was my mama and my papa. For some reason, the night before Reaping Day was always reserved for this morbid dinner where the five of us would sit in silence and reminisce on the year. Papa said it was a good time to 'reflect' on our life choices - I however thought it was him preparing just in case one of us didn't return home the next day. My father wasn't exactly what you could call an affectionate man but he did prize his family above absolutely everything and there was nothing I respected more than that. He taught me everything I know, my morals - or lack of them - were learned from him. You could almost say that I was his image, however I was better looking and far more intelligent. But whenever I did go home for these Last Supper-esqe meals I got to see my baby brother. The term baby brother wasn't exactly apt any more considering he was thirteen.
For as long as I could remember, Marco had always been ill. He was small, frail, and it required so much time and attention to look after him. He always took so much medication and despite all of this, he was perhaps had the kindest soul. It was a good thing papa sent him away to live with nonna because he didn't deserve to be surrounded by or involved in the things that we were all involved in. It was expected for us to come in best dress and I only owned one suit, the one that I wore last year and forgot to throw out so I had Clown - against his own will of course - to go fetch me another before I made my way to my parent's house at a leisurely pace. I think I moved out the morning I turned sixteen. I was never a fan of staying out home when you turned into an adult. For me you should just a case of ripping off the band-aid. When I opened the door to greet my family (I was the last to arrive and the first to leave as always) I was met with a hug from Marco himself and it automatically brought a huge smile to my face.
"Hey buddy! How are you holding up?!" he pointed to his throat and frowned a little and that usually meant that he'd lost his voice or had a throat infection or something. "It's okay I understand, you're getting bigger you know." it was the same thing I said every time to him, but this time he was getting bigger. He was getting taller, his face was thinning a little and getting rid of all that baby face. You could almost see a teenager in him. I perched myself on a chair beside him and rubbed his knuckles a little as I waited for dinner to be served up. As a family we all had to pray before eating and soon after the bullshit rituals we all began to eat.
For most of the meal if not all of it, I kind of just sat there and listened to my pa and my ma and how they spoke. They seemed so happy, so joyous about their year. They spoke of all the economical success they'd had (all at the expense of the people of District Six of course), and how blessed they were to have three beautiful children. That really made me smile. The concept of parenting had alluded me for as long as I could remember. Children are expensive, smelly, disrespectful and rude. Most of them weren't even that cute. Plus there was the whole Hunger Games business. Even if I did want children, I would be put off by the fact that they could be taken at any moment by the Games. It’s not worth it to me. As soon as my plate was empty I sat in my chair and looked around at my family, smiling and talking. There were times when I felt like an outsiders in my own family but I did love seeing them happy.
"Rafaele you haven’t said a word, are you nervous for tomorrow?” my mother said with a slightly pained expression on her face. She was always a worrier, and before I could answer she spoke again. “Hey, I have an idea! How about tomorrow all of us, including Marco have a nice lunch together after the Reaping? It’s your last year honey we’ll need to celebrate!” I smiled at the effort she was making - she reminded me of why she was the number one woman in my life.
"I don't know, I've got something planned with the guys but if you want me home, I can." I nodded, making a mental note to tell the guys about the change of plans. "I'm not going to get Reaped mama okay?" It was safe to say that I had put in provisions to stop that from happening. After a few more moments when everyone else had finished eating, I excused myself from the table and put a small kiss on all of their heads. "I love you all okay?” even though I wasn’t the kind of person to show it. We all exchanged a few more goodbyes before I left. It was always hard to leave my family, and I wasn’t the only one that I had to worry about being Reaped; Blank, Vanity, Clown and Marco were all of Reaping age too. And that scared me, a little.
It's hard to believe that this time of the year is here again already. I feel like the last Reaping was just last week. That time, I really felt jealous of my brother's age group. Imagine being 18 and finding out that no one from your District is being reaped? That you get off the hook a year early! Don't get me wrong, I did some hooping and hollering of my own just knowing that I had a free year, too.
Just like every other day, I head to school early in the morning. It's here that the atmosphere is the most bleak. After all, half of the eligible tributes are in the building (the other half are at the school on the other side of town.) It's nerve wracking, looking around at the faces I see every day and wondering who among them will be reaped tomorrow. Everyone is quiet in class instead of chatting away like usual. Our teacher can sense that as much as she tries to teach us about geometry, none of it will actually stick with us. So she settles to switch off the lights and put on a movie for us. The day goes by too quickly and soon enough it's time to head to work for the rest of the day.
Here it's different. As much as the supervisors want to take it easy on us, we have a quota to fill and can't afford to waste any time. So the whole lot of us work just as hard as usual, only now there's no hushed conversations as we carry crates and harvest produce.
After work, I want to go straight home to spend time with my family. That's the tradition - we've done it every year on this day. But somehow it just doesn't feel right. My family is no longer complete. And no matter what anyone tells me, I know it's mostly because of me. Rather than continuing on the straight route home, I take a detour to the cemetery where we buried my brother. It's not much. Most folks prefer to bury their loved ones near home so this place is nothing special. The tombstones are all carved by hand. I insisted on doing Dio's, knowing that my father's age-worn hands would be hard pressed to keep steady as he carved out his own son's name.
Heading to it now, I can see that the patch of dirt covering my brother's casket hasn't completely grown over. I gently lay down the few windflowers I found on the walk over and step back to look down at his final resting place. As much as I want to talk to him, I know he can't hear me. I want to apologize again and again. Not just for being reckless that night, either. But for being jealous of him even in death. He's gone now and I still pressure myself to be better than him. I know it's just as horrible as it sounds, but I can't stop feeling my cardinal sin.
I don't know how long I've been here, but judging by the sky it's been a while. It was orange when I got here but now it's lit up in vibrant pinks and purples as the sun prepares to disappear for the night. It's beautiful, really. "S'our favorite color," I mutter aloud. Just in case he can hear me.
With a final look, I turn to head back to the house. My parents are quiet as we eat dinner, and I don't mind it. Afterwards we all hold hands and my mom says the prayers she always does - prayers that I'll get come home tomorrow and that I'll have someone watching over me not matter what happens. This time, though, it doesn't end there. "You took one boy from me already," she says, her voice a soft plea. "Please don't take the other."
Her words hung over my head as I hugged her goodnight and headed up to bed. While they were meant as a comfort, they're doing anything but that. Because now I know that if my name gets called tomorrow and I don't make it home... Then my mother will have lost all of her children. And I'll be to blame for both.
“Are you nervous?” Mikhail asked as he came to sit in the chair across from me. I was nursing a steaming cup of coffee with a shot of vodka to take the edge off, but I knew it wasn’t the contemplative expression on my face that had my brother seeking me out. Tomorrow was Reaping Day. The final day that I’d have to stand in a crowd of my peers waiting to see which class mate I’d have to watch get ripped to pieces this year. I was the last one to go through this and by this time tomorrow I’d be tucked up in my own bed with this whole stupid thing put behind me.
“Not nervous, just apprehensive I guess?” I shrugged, my brother reached out to take my hand squeezing his fingers in mine as he nodded. He knew what the last year was like; you were so close that the fear that maybe your luck had run out bubbled out. I’d been seven when Nikolai had stood up at the front of the stage, waiting with baited breath for my brother to get the all clear. As we had walked him into the square, Nikolai had paled and rushed off to heave into the bushes. I’d never seen him that fazed and the image stayed with me.
“It’ll be over before you know it, Sloane. All you have to do is stand up there and then Batya will crack open the bottle of scotch he’s been saving since you were born. We’ll get drunk and toast your good fortune.” I nodded, needing the reassurance as I brought the mug up to my lips. Sipping and enjoying the burn at the back of my throat. “Where’s your shadow?”
“Rurik? He had business to deal with, I’m not his keeper Mikhail.” I wanted to wipe the smug look off his face, but my curiosity was also peaked. Mikhail liked Rurik but he just silently acknowledged his presence in my life. They joked and drank together but it was very unlike Mikhail to ask questions like this.
“I heard he bought a ring.”
I spat out my coffee, the liquid burning my nose as I moved to grab some paper towel from under the sink. My chest burned and I wanted to vomit. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“As serious as a heart attack, someone told me he is asking our beloved patriarch for your hand in marriage this very minute.” Yep, I was definitely going to be sick. I braced my hands on the sink, trying not to envision a life as someone’s little woman. Fuck. I could see it, I’d have to wear pearls and high heels. I wouldn’t be allowed to take over the family business, I’d be relegated to being barefoot and pregnant. Sequestered to the kitchen while my dashing husband dealt with the bad guys. It wasn’t my life, it belonged to someone else. Some other version of myself and I could feel my heart thundering in my chest. “Shit sis, you look like you’re going to shit a brick. You okay?”
I slammed my hand onto the sink, turning around to Mikhail even as he held both hands up in his own defence. My look must have been murderous and I could tell he was afraid that one wrong move would end with his balls on a platter. “I’m not someone’s wife. I don’t want that. How fucking dare he!” We weren’t in a relationship. Hell, half the time our conversations consisted of ‘more’, ‘harder’ and ‘have you got protection’. We mixed business with pleasure, we used each other but I didn’t want that forever. It was good for now and I thought we were clear on that. But now with the threat of a big fat diamond ring in my future I could tell something had gotten lost in translation.
“You can understand though, right Sloane? It’s a natural progression, the son of Dad’s most trusted enforcer and his little girl? It’s a match made in gangland heaven.” I paled again at the thought, but it was the next words out of Mikhail’s mouth that had me fleeing the room. “Mama was married and already had me at your age, you’ve gotta admit she’s probably hoping a condom will break and you’ll end up knocked up so she can hear the pitter patter of little feet all over again.”
I pushed passed Mikhail, running up the stairs and into my bedroom. I slammed the door shut, flicking the dead bolt as I collapsed onto the end of the bed. My head in my hands as a thousand thoughts circled around in my head. Rurik was right. One day I’d regret my stupid decision to start fucking him on a regular basis, the day had just come a little quicker than I would have liked. I don’t know how long I sat in the dark for but from the hollow ache in my gut I knew I’d missed dinner but I refused to go downstairs. I didn’t want to see the knowing looking on my mother’s face or tip toe around the elephant in the room. I wanted to pretend this whole discussion hadn’t even happened. I wanted to go back to yesterday where my biggest worry was Reaping day. Now I had to worry about coming home tomorrow to my fate all sealed up in one nice tidy little package.
I looked up at the sound of knocking, but I made no move to answer the door even as the doorknob jiggled. “Duchess?” Rurik’s voice filled me with dread and even though I felt bad about locking him out I was pissed off with him. He’d made a decision that involved me. He’d elevated this into something it wasn’t and as I heard him ask me to let him in I refused to get up. I didn’t love him the way he obviously did me and right now I didn’t even want to see him. He finally got the message, stalking away from the door and leaving me to wallow in my misery. I curled up in bed, burying my head in the pillow as I wished for the ground to swallow me up hole. Tomorrow had to be a better day; surely my luck hadn’t completely run out right?
What to Expect When You're Expecting || Day Before the Reaping
The day before the Reaping was, to put it simply, lousy. Rain pelted the roofs of Five like bullets, and flashes of lightning lit the dark air. Of course, the power plant workers sat with their faces against the windows like children to watch the electricity paint the sky and I wondered if they pointed with their mouths open every time it rained in the District. I forgot how passionate people could be about the things I took for granted.
The walk to Autumn's house wasn't long, although Mom wasn't too keen on my trudge through the poor weather. I told her being struck by lightning was much faster than dying in the arena, anyway, and that I'd take death over attending the Reaping any day.
"What if I'm reaped? I can't go in there pregnant. I can barely run a mile without another human being in my you-know-where. No one in their right mind would volunteer for me. I wouldn't volunteer for me," Autumn ranted exasperatedly, the bedsheets covering her chest rippling as she flopped back onto her pillow.
"You worry too much," I mumbled, closing my eyes as I waited for something in the least bit comforting to say to her, but nothing came. She was right; if she was reaped, we'd both be screwed. "I'll volunteer if you're reaped and get you out of there. Got it?"
Shoving her messy auburn hair into her mouth, Autumn shook her head furiously. "No, no, no, you idiot," she fumed in a hushed whisper, "you cannot do that. You have a family to look after, a sister to raise...you can't. They're more important than I am, and although I do love you to pieces, they need you more than I do. Oh, speaking of which, before I forget..." Autumn reached for the drawer of her nightstand, pulling out her silver wallet. "How much was it--"
"Put that away. Consider it my parting gift to you if one of us has to leave," I smiled sadly, and though she opened her mouth in protest, it shut quickly and Autumn shoved the money back where it belonged.
I'd decided to spend the majority of the day with Autumn the way we did last year before the reaping. That was when we had less worries and even less cares; before I'd knocked up the girl of my dreams because I didn't think anything would happen. The morning belonged to Waverly, though--the routine changing, feeding, and bathing all occurred before my step-father woke up. I'd do the next day, although I'd leave her with Mom before heading off to the Reaping, and surely I'd be able to say goodbye before leaving if I was reaped.
Or if I volunteered.
I'd gone over the situation in my head more times than I could count, although I still couldn't seem to come up with a solution to the seemingly rhetorical question to anyone other than the Careers. I'd be considered insane if I told anyone my plan, and surely Autumn would blow her top if I did what I'd been planning. I'd tell her it was for the money, that I thought her father would accept me if I won, but we both know I stand no chance against the rest of the trained, bred Career tributes vying for their shot at glory.
"...I'd have to tell everyone and Father would go nuts if he found out and...are you even listening?" Autumn snapped, grabbing my chin to turn my face towards her. "This is a serious matter, and if someone hadn't forgotten their you-know-what we wouldn't be in this situation." Letting go, she sunk with her cheek against my arm. "I'm sorry. I'm just...I don't know whether it's the hormones freaking the heck out or the stress, but this is exhausting."
I ran my hand through her thin layers of hair and pressed my lips to the top of her head. "I know, I know. You're never like this. Whatever you need, whatever you need to rant about, go for it. I'm not stopping you. I don't really know how it feels to be pregnant, nor am I ever, so this is new. New things are good. You go for it," I encouraged with a grin, ready for the oncoming buckets of words she was about to throw at me.
But it never came. Instead, Autumn spoke slowly, carefully, and I assumed it was another one of her crazy mood swings taking over. I've already been hit with a hairbrush and cooked a meal big enough for my entire family thanks to the wacky stuff her hormones are doing, although I can't say it's a refreshing change from her usually hyperactive personality. "I want to fall asleep here with you, but when I do, I wake up and you're never here," she muttered with a frown. "You have Waverly, though. I couldn't do that to you. Not today. Maybe another day when it's not twelve hours until the Reaping. Promise?"
Holding out my pinky finger, Autumn locked it with hers. "I promise." The lie stung as it escaped my lips, but I wasn't going to tell her the truth; it'd hurt her. I'd discovered that loving someone meant lying to protect them, though I still wasn't comfortable with telling her what wasn't true.
"I should get going," I mumbled, pressing a kiss to her cheek before I rolled out of her lavender sheets to tug my pants back up. "I'll see you tomorrow? After the Reaping? Love you."
"You too." Autumn nodded, blowing a kiss before I could slip out her window and into the pouring rain and wondered if I'd ever see her again.
"Twelve voices were shouting in anger, and they were all alike. No question, now, what had happened to the faces of the pigs. The creatures outside looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again; but already it was impossible to say which was which."
At some point my parents left for their work who were joined by my siblings until I was left alone in the dining table. Not like it made any difference. Letting out a sigh I finally ripped my eyes from the blood stench calendar when I heard my name fall from Edens, our maid, lips. "I'm so sorry, I mean do you need anything else my lady?" she immediately corrected herself. I gave her a huge smile and shook my head. "No, breakfast was delicious I am full and I told you, you don't have to call me that. Makes me feel old." I shudder trying to make her feel not-so-bad. With a small okay she left to go do her duties - I hope.
I on the other hand ran to my room where I dropped to the floor beside my bed. Moving around some boxes I pulled a floorboard off and stuck my hand in until I felt the rough cover of my book. Its cover was old since it was form the dark ages but because of that reason it was one of my favorites and now that I was alone I could finally read it without getting the evil eye from father. I had actually gotten this from him - without him knowing of course. Once when he brought me along to one of his tradings I spotted this book in one of the piles and me being me I just couldn't help it. I still hope he forgives me for stealing from him!
Walking out of my house I began to flip the marked pages until I got to the place I had left off last night. Everyone else that was my age was either heading to school or work so I was left alone in the streets in matter of minutes. Settling under a tree I propped the book on my knees and got lost in the words of George Orwell.
"Twelve voices were shouting in anger, and they were all alike. No question, now, what had happened to the faces of the pigs. The creatures outside looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again; but already it was impossible to say which was which." I read the last words, that I had underline and circled multiple times, of the book. That last paragraph had such a deep meaning that sometimes I would just read this book so I could read the last paragraph one more time. Yes, I do that and yes it's weird but as anyone could tell; the characters in the pages were my only companions as corny and depressing as that sounded. I guess in this case, pigs were my friends. Dandy.
Just as I closed my book, school was dismissed and noticed that I had spent my whole day out of here. Brushing my clothes off I stood up as a group of kids rushed out with a rattling old ball as they began to play the famous game of soccer; I had read all about it in my books and just wished I could play with them. But as usual they all looked at me, took in my non-poor clothes and turned away. I had done nothing but my family had and like the quote says; 'blood is thicker than water'. Giving them a smile I turned around and headed back to hell - I mean my home sweet home.
Hiding my book underneath my clothes I headed towards the kitchen but i never made it there because father forgot to shut the door to his 'trading room' or his 'office' as he likes to call it. Walking to close it for him because I knew he hated people looking in there but I stopped on my tracks when I noticed that he was in fact in there. With some client and let me just say that this client had a lot of shit - I mean stuff to trade. On one of the corner of the rooms were two girls I expected were destine for the hub to work on something really low. On the floor between them were boxes filled with goods from salt to wild turkey but something else caught my eyes. There were two boxes filled with weapons. Biting my lip I prepared to leave but of course with my luck father caught me.
"Malia go to your bedroom right now. Dinner is in a few and haven't I told you to never come into my office without my permission. You claim to be so smart but I have yet to see that side of you." he snapped at me like I had done something wrong. Last time I checked this old man, sorry my father, had left the door open. This is what I get for being too kind. Instead of snapping back at him like I was in my mind I nodded and said only one thing. "yes father"
Turning on my heels I change my destination and headed for my room instead with only one thing in mind; what I had just seen would be my life. That was if I survived tomorrows reaping.
A fine layer of dust coats my clothing, kicking up from every step as I trudge alone along the dirt road home. Miss Henries let out of early today cause of some sort of game that's starting tomorrow. My whole class got real quiet when she mentioned it and Renfrew even started crying a little. I'm not sure why anyone would get so scared over a game; I love games! Mis Henries told us we could go home and spend time with our families and Renfrew just took off like a bunny in the fields. Guess we weren't gonna walk home together today.
The walk isn't long but it's sure boring when I don't have someone to talk to. Without Renfrew it takes five hours to get home! I open the door and hear my parents talking in hushed voices inside.
"-we can't just not tell him."
"What do you want to tell him? He's gonna be going to the reaping tomorrow."
"So we can't hide it anymore! He's going to find out about the Games-"
There it was again, the Games. "Hide what from me?" I ask as I round the corner to our cramped kitchen. Both my parents' heads shoot up to look at me with a mixture of shock and panic on their faces.
"Honey! What are you doing home from school so early?" My mother rushes to give me a hug.
The previous look on her face is replaced immediately with a smile putting me at ease. "Miss Henries let the class go home early today so we could spend time with our family! Momma what's the Hunger Games?"
Her body tenses up against mine and my father looks as if someone has punched him in the gut. She turns to face him and their eyes meet trying to communicate something. "Well buddy you see, the Hunger Games are-" Poppa starts.
"Are this really fun reality tv competition the Capitol hosts each year for the districts." Her eyes glare daggers at Poppa. He shakes his head but she continues. "Each district sends a boy and a girl between twelve and eighteen to the Capitol and they go to parties and have a great time for a few days before they get to compete."
I stare at my Momma in wonder, eyes the size of dinner plates. I don't even bother to speak, just nodding as if in a trance.
If she was worried about my blatant curiosity she wasn't showing it. "They pretend to fight each other until only one is left. Then the one who wins goes home and-" She stalls, clearly hitting a wall in her story. She looks to Poppa for help but all he does is shrug. It's her mess, she has to find a way out of it.
"Do the losers get to come home too?" My mouth curls into a slight frown as I speak.
"No!" She almost shouts her answer. "No honey. They uh, they, they get to live in the Capitol! Yeah, they stay there because they're famous tv stars now so they have to stay. The winner gets to visit from time to time too."
At this point Poppa tossed his hands in the air and stormed from the room. I hardly noticed as my gaze was set firmly on Momma though in my mind I was picturing something else. "Losing almost sounds better." I smile at the thought of living in the Capitol.
A troubled look crosses my mother's face but as quickly as it's there it's gone, replaced by her seemingly permanent smile. "The choosing of the contestants is tomorrow so that's why Miss Henries let you go early. You're going to have to go to the square tomorrow and watch someone get picked."
"Can I volunteer to go?!" The enthusiasm in my voice was uncontrollable.
"Some people volunteer but they're usually kids from One, Two, or Four. See, those are the Capitol's favourite districts and they don't like volunteers from the other districts. So you have to promise me you won't volunteer."
My lip quivers a little at the thought of leaving going to the Capitol up to chance. "But Momma!"
"No buts!" She snaps, the maddest I've ever seen her. "Promise me August."
"I promise." I mutter, not looking up.
"August Jackson Robbins."
My eyes lift to meet her gaze. "I promise." She pulls me into a tight hug and judging from how wet the back of my shirt is, she's crying.
"I love you so, so much August. You know that right?" Her voice strains to keep the emotion out.
"Yes Momma I know." I dunno why Momma is acting so weird today.
The hug lingers for a while longer before she breaks away, her mouth turned up in a smile but her eyes betraying her. "How's spaghetti sound for dinner, hmm?"
Immediately all wonders about her strange mood-swings abandon my thoughts. "Really? It's not even my birthday!" She bites her lip and nods her head before turning away to busy herself in the kitchen. "Poppa! Momma is making pasketti!" I chant, racing upstairs to clean up for dinner.
Dinner passed uneventfully. Momma and Poppa barely spoke a word to each other and I was way to absorbed in thoughts of pasketti and the Capitol to give much thought to their lack of conversation. After dinner Momma announces it's bed time and before I can even try to argue one look at her face tells me it's no good.
Settling into bed I shut my eyes but instead of seeing black all I get is the shimmering light of the city in my dreams. The roar of a crowd in my ears as I stand, victor with the twenty-three other tributes smiling and waving below me. I say goodbye to all the friends I've made and promise them all I'll be back to visit soon before a train whisks me away to sleep. From downstairs the sounds of a furious argument drift up the stairs but they aren't enough to wake me. Sometime later a door slams shut in the dead of night.
