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.
6.What are your biggest fears? How did you acquire them?
The rules are simple: get from one side of town to the other without touching the ground. First one to do so wins. It's easier said than done. The buildings might not be tall but they're pretty far apart. There's no such thing as a running start - I'm running the whole time, and just hoping I pick the right moment to jump. As of now I'm in the lead, but I can see Dio out of the side of my eye, keeping pace with me on rooftops alongside my own. We're at the halfway mark and I know it's only going to get harder from here. That's Dio's game - he takes it easy at the beginning and then puts on a sprint in the last half. It's a good tactic, but not one that would work out too well for me. I have to run at full-speed just to keep up with him now and if I tried going any slower he'd be impossible to catch up to.
This is my last chance to show that I'm every bit as strong as my brother is. He retires tonight. Starting tomorrow he's a full-time worker and I'm head of the gang. Dio might be a natural-born leader, but I can learn to lead just as well as he did. Hell, maybe I can be even better!
I know some of the guys are thinking that I'm only taking over because of being Dio's brother, so I figured giving them proof that I'm worth of the title was necessary. That's what was in my mind when I confronted Dio about having a race. Maybe I'm not trying to prove anything to him at all. Maybe it's just about getting the others to believe that I'm capable.
Shit. We're in the last leg of the race and Dio's finally put on speed. He's already three rooftops ahead of me. I cross over to his set of buildings, thinking maybe having him right in front of me will motivate me to go faster. It doesn't work. Instead of catching up, I'm just watching as he gets further and further ahead. "Fuck," I curse weakly, my lungs screaming for me to give up. I guess my body is wising up to what I'm reluctant to admit - there's no way I'm going to win.
Who am I kidding? I'll never be a better leader than Dio. Hell, I'd be lucky to be half as good as him. Even when I give it my all, he's still worlds ahead of me.
This is it. There's one corner separating us from the finish line. Come to think of it... If I cut through the streets, I might actually manage to catch up to him. It's playing dirty, yeah, but if I hop back up onto the roof soon enough no one will ever know. And I can't lose to him tonight. If he wins, no one will ever respect me as the leader. I'll just be Dio's little brother.
That can't happen. I won't let it.
I hang a hard right and jumped down into an alley. I'm running through my route in my head, trying to think of where the best place to climb back up could be. I'm thinking about what it's going to feel like to actually beat my brother. I'm wondering if I'll feel guilty about cheating. In the midst of all of it, I am not paying attention.
It all happens very quickly then.
Suddenly I'm in the street. And it's daytime. It was the middle of the night four seconds ago, so I don't know how or why the sun has shot up so fast. And then comes the most terrible noise. I think it's a horn, but it's the loudest horn I've ever heard. I look towards it and that's when I realize that it isn't daytime. There are just two very bright headlights shining at me. And approaching fast.
I don't know what has come over me but I can't move. My mind is completely blank. I've forgotten how to breathe. A familiar voice calls me back from the nothingness and I turn to see its Dio. He's saying my name. I've never seen him look so afraid. He's lunging at me, running full force at a speed I could never reach and throwing his weight at me just like Malik did all those years ago.
Except this time there is no blacking out. I don't hit the ground with Dio's weight on my back. Instead I'm sent flying into a ditch at the side of the road, rolling so much that I can't tell what's up and what's down. All of this has happened in the span of a few seconds - a few loud, terrifying seconds - and now it's very quiet. I can hear the hum of a quiet engine continuing down the road and know that the car must have been from the Capitol, as nothing that quiet can come out of District Eleven.
Only then do I realize what must have happened. "Dio!" I call, shakily grabbing the lip of the road and hoisting myself back up onto it. It's dark without the headlights, but in the pale moonlight I can make out the spinning outline my brother laying in the road. I call his name again but he doesn't respond. As my head starts to clear up and the spinning stops, I can make out his shape and know that no body should be as sunken in at the chest. And that nothing alive could possibly be so still.
Dio was eighteen. He was free from the fear of being Reaped and having to fight in the Hunger Games. He officially had a life ahead of him and in a few short seconds he'd given it up to save my own. I can't help but wonder if he would have pushed me if he knew the price would be his life over my own. I doubt anything could be as blindingly bright as those headlights, but whenever something flashes at me or I hear anything akin to a car horn I'm right back on the side of that road, beside his crumpled, bleeding form.
And no matter how short or long my life is, I know these fears will be there.
Weft Caddow - Age 21 - Capitol Escort for District 8 - FC: Michelle Dockery
It's a story that you'll never see on Capitol TV, yet it plays out year after year in the upper districts. It's the story of the careers who didn't make the cut, who weren't given the honor of volunteering, who aged out of the system and were left to a life of survivor's guilt, feelings of inferiority, and no real place to go. These young adults often become trainers of new careers, the most violent of the peacekeepers, and others fade into oblivion, nameless faces living amongst the crowds of Panem.
None of these options suited Weft, so she forged her own path.
Born in District One, Weft was raised a Career from the day that she could lift her head and bat her tiny blue eyes. Bloodthirst and venom laced her bottles and violence was the only caress she was taught to give. Separated from her parents she knew them only as faces and names, the characters in her life were ever rotating, never giving her a chance to bond to any one person too closely. She was a prodigy, her name was whispered with fear by the time she stood knee high.
At the Academy Weft kept to herself, her style was subtle and silent. Barely a word was needed, her looks said it all, and she loved the fact that they trembled with fear when she so much as winked. As her 18th birthday and the games where she would volunteer approached, Weft's mind began to turn to new ideas. Surely she could compete and win in the games, but that's what everyone expected of her, and there was no fun at all in doing what was expected.
A week before the reaping Weft suffered a tragic accident in training, falling from the top of a rock wall to the cold floor below. While she was in no shape to volunteer, another career took her place, and she made a full recovery while aging out of the system. Her parents were bereft, her trainers were crest fallen, they declared it a tragedy and a waste of talent. Weft played along, acting distraught, but she was already putting her next plan into motion.
It didn't take Weft long to find her way into the position of Escort, only needing three years to smile, charm, trick, and occasionally threaten her way up the ladder. It was the next step and an easy one for her to take. With her intimate knowledge of the games she makes an excellent Escort for the lost little tributes, and this way, she gets to live her life just inside of the spotlight, but never on the wrong end of the knife.
Weft is known for being protective of her tributes, like a Mama Bear she watches over her cubs with a ferocity that any sane man would run from. Her silent smile is the most terrifying site outside of the arena, and most people are aware of the fact that she could kill them with her finely pointed stiletto.
No one really knows what Weft's next plan is, if she wants her tributes to win, if she wants to be something more then an Escort, or if perhaps this is all just some larger game to her. But they do know that they should stay on her good side, at least if they value their life.
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.
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.
Never Regret What Could Be Your Last Day of Freedom | | The Day Before OS
5…4…3…2…1…0
The gong sounds throughout the arena; an ear-splitting noise that seems to shove me off of the platform on which I once stood. Standing in the grass, I frantically look around for anything that could be of use to me. My eyes fall upon a backpack nearby, and a knife that is not too far off from it.
I dash over to the backpack, keeping an eye out for anyone who could be out to get me. My heart threatens to beat out of my chest. My ears are still ringing from the sounding of the gong. Adrenaline courses through my veins as I snatch the backpack up by its straps, slinging it over my shoulders.
I turn in the direction of the knife, preparing to run over to where it lies. Just as I’m about to take off, someone sharply tugs at my hair. I’m pulled backwards and lose my footing, landing in the grass on my tailbone. It aches, but my survival instinct kicks in, and I make an effort to rise. Instead, I feel someone’s foot make contact with my ribcage, sending me back onto the ground. I focus my eyes on the face in front of me: a girl with blonde hair and emerald green eyes. Somehow I know she’s from District One. Her face is the last thing I see before she drags her knife across my throat and everything goes black.
I wake up in my bedroom breathing heavily and drenched in sweat. My heart is beating a mile a minute as I lie in bed, coming to the realization that it was just a dream. The same dream that I’ve been having during the nights leading up to the reaping ever since I turned twelve-years-old. The dream is always the exact same. There’s never been a difference between them. It starts with me jumping off of my pedestal and ends with me getting my throat slit by that District One bitch.
At one time or another, everyone has had one of these dreams, unless of course he or she is a cold-blooded, cocky career. In that case, they probably dream of killing, rather than being killed. Fearing the reaping is just something that’s part of everyday life for children of the outer districts. A nightmare about being part of the games is pretty much routine once you’ve been to as many reapings as I have. Still, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how real it feels to get killed in it.
I roll out of bed and head downstairs, where I am greeted by the scent of tea and breakfast foods. I say hello to my mom, dad, and sister before grabbing some tea and something to eat. “When are we going to put the game on?” I ask.
“Once we finish eating. I’ve put Zoe outside already,” my mom says. Zoe is our black cat, and being the superstitious family that we are, she’s been locked out of the house for the day. We don’t want to give the universe any reason to pluck my name or Natalie’s from the female reaping bowl.
After I finish my breakfast, I curl up in front of the holographic video displayer. I pull up a list of the past games to watch, scrolling down to the Twenty-Seventh Annual Games, which is the game that District Nine’s very own July Montmorency won. We watch it every year, thinking that it’s good luck to do so. Maybe it’ll keep us from being reaped, or ensure victory if one of us unfortunately is. I had her as a teacher a few years back. She’s my favorite one without a doubt. She was always so kind and informative, and didn’t mind talking about her experience in the arena. The fame, fortune, and torture of being in the arena hasn’t changed her one bit. Ms. Montmorency has managed to stay true to herself through it all, which is something I can’t say I’d be able to do.
I press play once Nat, mom, and dad sit down. There’s a little recap of the reapings, parades, training scores, and interviews before we get to the arena. The video gets to the part where the bloodbath begins. I watch as children are slaughtered, but more importantly as July escapes with her life and some supplies. I’ve always admired her instincts to this day.
I know this game is a long one, so I settle in on the couch.
***
The video ends with July’s victory interview, and then the hologram projector turns itself off. It’s safe to say that at least ten hours have passed since we began it. I fell asleep for a few hours, missing the parts in between the bloodbath and finale for the most part. They were boring anyway, if I can remember correctly.
Since it’s late out, my parents and Natalie head to bed. I go up to my room to create the illusion that I’ll be getting a plentiful amount of sleep for the night, but as soon as their lights go out, I tiptoe downstairs and head out.
I meet Celeste at the shed in which all of my goods are stored. Pulling the key out of my pocket, I unlock it. I pull on a string connected to a light bulb, illuminating the interior. She grabs the booze, I grab the cash that I’ll be using for betting. After I close up shop, we head off to the basement in which my gambling addiction originated.
We take a shot every time one of us wins a game, and so it doesn’t take long for us to get drunk. We began this tradition last year, on the night before the reaping. Even when we’re hammered, we still have that master gambler’s intuition that allows us to continue to collect our bounty of winnings.
By the end of the night, we’re giggling like idiots at all of the money, weapons, precious gems, and drugs that we’ve collected. It’s almost too much to carry, but we manage. It’s a good thing we can hold our booze, because otherwise, god knows what would happen to us out on the streets of District Nine at midnight. Celeste vomits a few times, but that’s normal for her. She can never keep down the vodka. I, on the other hand, can never get enough of it.
Somehow I stumble into bed without waking my parents or sister up. I either fall asleep or pass out with the thought that I won’t ever regret my last day of freedom if I’m reaped, because even if I win, I’ll never be free of the Capitol’s iron-like grasp.
I'll Th-Ink of you ||Day before the reaping || Part 2
We ate the warm cheese bun on a bench in the city park. Oscar was amazed that he could have a whole one for its own. I let him talk about the melting cheese in it and how cheese was better than olive. Kid talks that made me wonder when I lost this sense of wonder.When I understood that life was more complicated than my favorite kind of bread and if I was running faster than my brothers.
I was lost in my thought when Oscar took my hand and look at me with wondering eyes. I didn't realize he was asking me a question. «Sorry kiddo, you were saying?» I say finishing my bun in a big bite. «Will you forget me back there?»
This broke my heart
I took my little brother in my arm and put him sit to my lap. «Why do you think I will». He shrug and look down. «Sometime people forget their home in the game. We saw it. Some even start saying they want to live but at the end they didn't see to. Look what happen to M. Flynn.» I gave him a sad smile, knowing what he meant. I've watch so many time the victory of Link Flynn that by the time my brother was old enough to watch the game, he knew it as well as me. And as much as I admire the last victor of district 1, he made some mistake that I was not eager to repeat «There's a difference. Link made the mistake to think he could fall in love back there.That's why he acted that way. I wont do that.» I said. «Plus the people I truly love I just here. In this district. On my lap.» I poke his belly and he giggle before getting a serious face. «Cross your heart! You will come back!» I crossed my heart and it made him smile. He hugged me and I hugged him back.
Deep down I knew that all of this was just his fear of losing me. But where M. Flynn had no one to come back to, I have an entire family depending on my victory and wishing me to be back.When Oscar look back at me I could see he was fighting tears and I decided that something has to be done. I couldn't leave knowing my little brother was like this. «I have an idea. But it has to be a secret... our secret.» I said with a low voice and a knowing look. Oscar smiled. «What?» He asked. But instead of answering him, I took the loaf of bread, his hand and walk away, toward the hobs.
Stan's ink shop was between a second hand store and a low quality food grocery. My friend's business was flourishing and I truly think he was getting better by the days. When he saw me, he greeted me with an embrace. «Here's our future victor!» He chanted before looking at Oscar. My little brother was looking everywhere fascinated. «Figure you are not coming for him.» Stan said and I laugh. I presented my brother and we placed him in front of different stencil he could look at. I explained to my friend what I wanted and where and he nodded. «Nah forget payment » He told me as I was reaching for my almost empty wallet. «If it what you need to be strong in the arena, it will be my pleasure to be the one giving it to you.» I look at my friend with surprise but he smile at me. I could see he was as worried as my brother that I was going there. I still remember one of our heated argument we had years ago when he told me he'd rather starve than jump into death.
«Alright let's go. » I simply said unable to comfort him. Unable to comfort anyone. I sat to the chair and Oscar came next to me, curious. I raised my shirt sleeve. No one knew I had tattoo but Stan. «What are you doing» He ask curious and I smiled at him. «Look at Stan and you will understand» Curious as always he went to the other side where my friend was fixing a new needle to his machine. Soon enough, it was digging into my skin, inking it permanently. «Wow» Oscar whisper amazed as he understood what was taking life on my arm.
Half an hour later, I was shaking Stan's hand taking him, my arm newly tattooed the names of my grandpa, parents and brothers. Now, I will be able to carry them and my promise to Oscar in the arena.
Just the two of us ||Day before the reaping || Part 1
I woke up on the floor of the living room this morning. But it wasn't the hard floor that ache my body or the hunger feeling of having skipping two meal yesterday that put me out of my dreamless night. It was a small body pressed against mine. I open my eyes to see Oscar nuzzle next to me, his eyes closed, his hand on my shirt. He wasn't sleeping. I could see it through his uneven breath.
Maybe it was the red circle around the calendar, maybe it was the poster all around the district, or maybe it was just because he was starting to understand what kind of world we lived in; but I could feel that my little brother understood that tomorrow I will volunteer in a game to the death.
He stir a bit as I try to sit up and soon enough, his blue eyes are in mine. «Morning monkey» I said with a reassuring voice. There was no time to try to explain why I had to leave. I had uncle, aunts, parents and cousin to do that. Plus grandpa promised me to keep an eye on my siblings while I'll be gone. «Are you going to train today?» He ask me and I nod. «The gym is only open this morning though. And Brenda won't come. » That made my heart sink a bit. I always thought that, by that time it would be the two of us focusing on the task ahead of us and being obnoxiously confident. But here I was with the knowing that I will have an unwanted partner.
Since Brenda came to told me she couldn't join the game, I stopped by her house at least four time. But as I was to knock, I wonder why was I there? What good could I give? She was a high ranked girl and I was a Jacobs. Plus she made clear that the baby might not be mine. I never was possessive toward her, but now I was mad that I wasn't the only one that she would indulge her perfect body to an embrace. And yesterday I promised myself that I will deal with that problem when I went back. That was a distraction I didn't need in the capitol
«'Drew is at school today. Can I come with you? » I knew Oscar did his best to let me train and relax when I was at home. But I could see in his eyes the same light I probably had when I look at Link Flynn: admiration. My little brother loved me and I loved him more than my own life. His birth was one of the reason that made me decide to train to become a tribute, to become a victor. I ruffle his hair. «Alright. But you will have to be very nice I have a big day tomorrow.» My brother's face brighten and he jump to his feet. Never he was allowed in the gym of the academy. But it was my last day in town, I could say to the guards to fuck themselves; a day with my little brother would be an amazing last one. A reminder of why I had to do this.
After a breakfast that consisted of a warm gray mixture that I assumed was lower quality of groats found at the hob, Oscar and I walk to the gray building where I spend most of my last years. I was a bit surprise that the guard didn't say a thing but maybe my face on the poster next to his desk let him having some indulgence for me. It was no secret what tomorrow will be after all. As I start my routine with meditation, Oscar ran all over, trying the punching balls and the different weight and fitness station. He didn't joined me into the pool but we made a game where he had to time me and guess what will be my next performance. His overestimation of my skill give me the desire to go as fast as I could and it pushed me to train as much as if I had my real trainer.
Then we both ran to the track course, practicing my speed and making Oscar having fun. That kid kept the same pace as me almost the entire time. Which, I admit, was impressive. When I did weight he counted each set I made. But I ended up taking him as my weight when he told me I wasn't that strong. His little body squirming into my arm and his laugh filling the room made me crack a smile.A guard came to told us he had to close the gym for the preparation of tomorrow. I nod, Oscar jumped on my back and we left the training room. It was a short workout session today, but it was one o the best I had in months.
As we walk in town,I could see people looking at me with encouraging smile and approving glance.The baker even made us come into his shop and give me and Oscar a cheese bun and a whole olive and sesame bread. «For your feast with your family tonight» He told me with a grin. I expressed my gratitude, knowing deeply he wanted to tell people that he helped me a bit in my way to becoming a victor. The bread was big, but not enough to feed every member of my family. I couldn't spit on it though,it might be the first fresh loaf of bread we will have at our table. Mom will be appy