May the odds be ever in your favour ¦¦ The Reaping
I would of thought that I'd be used to watching a kid be chosen at the reaping and having to watch them fight to the death, but some how it feels worse each reaping. This year will be different. I won't even bother trying to keep them alive if I know they're going to die anyway, no point in the sponsors wasting their money. Unless we have a possible victor of course.
I know it's not my turn to go to the arena any more, but I know what their all feeling. Words cannot describe what they're all going through; the thoughts running through their heads. So young. It's not the life they deserve. But I was ready for it, I knew I was capable of killing the innocent. I had done it before -somehow this was different though.
I still shake as if I'm hearing my name and I'm walking on stage for the first time, but it's not the first time; that was 11 years ago. Now it's time for another two to go through that feeling, everyone staring, silently saying goodbye.
As I stride towards the stage, I feel everyone looking at me. I was used to this feeling after the games and the victory tour, but this was different. Some people looked at me in envy, at how I had won the games and their sibling had been killed. The rest gazed at me with belief, they believed I would be the one to help them survive if they was chosen.
I see so many young innocent faces, I was in their position once, except I wasn't so innocent. I was ready. I would've volunteered when I was 18 if I hadn't been chosen; luckily I was. But I think I can safely say no one stood in front of me today felt the way I did. They're all terrified. And even with the elder siblings trying to stay strong for they younger ones, you can still see the fear in their eyes. The fear everyone's sharing.
Everyone is on stage now, and a deadly silence has fallen upon the crowd. Is there this much tension in the other districts? The careers probably que up to see who can get on stage first.
Tears build in the younger ones eyes as a name was picked from the bowl. No one could stand the tension and as the tiny piece of paper is unfolded to reveal the girls name.
"Alyssa Gardener!"
A few girls gasp, but most sigh with relief -some giggle. They all scoot away making a path for Alyssa to get to the stage. I had seen her a few times before, she was about 17 with long, blonde hair. She was the cursed one. Some say she's crazy, but I don't know; this could be bad -really bad. Then again, it may even work in her favour.
People had moved on, and it was time for Alyssa's partner to be chosen. Since our girl wasn't the best, I could only wish for someone decent. I mean, she won't be too bad, but doesn't look like a winner. I hope I'm wrong.
A piece of paper is drawn from the other bowl, the boys try to be brave. They don't want to look like wimps in front of everyone, not the capitol or the other tributes in case they watch this, but everyone knows that they're just as petrified as the girls were.
"Derek Khendal!"
A small boy, stood in front of me trembling and nearly in tears. He looked like he was no older then ten, pushing it eleven, but he was obviously twelve. The odds were not in favour this year. Alyssa was my best chance, she looks like she could do some damage if she could come out alive, but Derek was hopeless. He wouldn't last 10 seconds in the bloodbath, you could kill him with a nasty look.
Not paying attention and making mental notes on my new tributes, I didn't notice the new boy on the stage. The volunteer. His name is Oliver Rush. I recognized his face but that was all, Oliver didn't look like a killer but her could be used as a heart-throb and none of the girls in the capitol would want to see him die.
There had always been some sort of dark omen that came to my house on Reaping day and the week before. Mother and Father were always sad near this time. I worked out that it was the time where they told me that they loved me no matter what the most. Of course they loved me no matter what, what on Earth did they expect to happen to me those few days prior? The two tributes last year didn’t have the greatest of deaths; and the two tributes before that as well. It’s almost as if District Five wasn’t allowed nice things.
The morning had been a mess, I had lost my tie. I don’t lose things. It had been purposely moved, not by me because I would have remembered where I left it, but either by my mother or my father who had simply ‘forgotten’ if they had. I’d never understood how someone just ‘forgot’ something. Memory is something so trivial, you retain information and just don’t let go of it; I didn’t understand why people found it difficult. Just like Brefina had simply left her carved bird on the desk before she ran out of the apothecary crying, I was to return it back to her mother said. A bowl of fruit for the morning was to be followed by a short walk to the Justice Building where I would stand, two tributes would be Reaped and I would then go home and mother and father would fuss about how I only had to endure one more year of the Reaping before I was free. The notion had been repeated every year since I was twelve, it had become a pattern by now and I liked it that way.
I stood silently whilst our escort, dear old feminist Sofia mounted the stage and spoke the same speech she did every year. I found myself speaking in unison with her; she had the same tone, the same pace as she always did. It was awfully repetitive if you ask me. I could feel the small wooden bird in my trouser pocket as I rolled it in between my fingers nervously. Despite the small chance of it being me, it could be more. Sofia drew the female name and I furrowed my eyebrows at the name. Brefina Aurory, it was just strange really. First she happens to turn up in my mother’s shop and now she is Reaped. I sigh, it seems as though I was going to have to go to see her before she would leave for the Capitol. A few seconds later though, Sofia put her hand into a separate glass jar and read out a name. It was my name that was being called out as the male tribute, the boy that was going to represent District Five. ‘Xander Solaris’ she said loud and clear into the microphone.
Well, this is unfortunate. The other seventeen year old boys had kindly made a path for me so I could walk to the stage and stand beside Brefina. I guess considering we were both near one another, it would be the optimum time for me to return her property. I took the bird out of my pocket and went to pass it to her. I didn’t really have time to calculate the exact odds of me being Reaped as I mounted the stage because my train of thought was interrupted by an ear piercing scream coming from Brefina. She was trying to get away from the stage and I was so confused that I almost found it humorous. Where on earth did she think she was going to go? I guess I was going to have to give her her bird when she calmed down because now was obviously not a good time for her. I shrugged, slipped the bird into my pocket and waved to the crowd of District Five before walking into the Justice Building.
'New things were something that I never really thought into. Unless it was something that would benefit my life or I knew it was better than before. Change was something I rarely experienced. My whole life was not knowing half of my family, learning to deal with my Garlen's drinking problem and beatings. The only change in that was finding a way to avoid physical pain delivered from Garlen. Change can be good I guess.
Every year children from the ages of twelve to eighteen attend a required event called a reaping. Two names are drawn from glass bowls, one female and one male, to be tributes for the Hunger Games. The Games are hosted by the Capitol and are made so twenty four tributes fight to the death with one remaining living victor. The day is of citizen's worst fears. But only my first reaping blossomed fear inside of me. Being in the Games would be away from Garlen, which isn't that bad of luck. Plus if I died trying to win, I could meet my mother and sister.
The day felt like any other, next to no noise carrying on outside, Garlen snoring in the next room, the sun's rays peaking through the window's thin curtains. I roll out of my small bed and stretch out my limbs while yawning. There was already a dress I had in mind for the reaping: a small, navy colored cotton with a belt. It was simple and not so attention drawing. Good in my case, I didn't like to socialize with the people of Seven.
I knock on Garlen's old, beaten door quickly before running my fingers through my hair one last time and speed walking out of the wooden house. The regular hot temperature beat down on my back and legs as I walked to the center of district seven. Reapings were held in downtown of each district and the Justice Building sat in the background; waiting for the next victims to say goodbye to their loved ones.
Citizens started to trickle in little by little with their families and friends, keeping their thoughts silent. after getting my blood taken quickly, I stood in the row for sixteen-year-olds. Most of them, I did not know, rarely I went into town or to school after I pasted six. Partially because I didn't like having to make friends because none of them really knew the real me, also because I finally understood what happened to my mother and sister.
Our escort, Luanna, is your classic Capital citizen: thick accent, stubborn, annoyed easily, stuck up, and straight forward bitchy. “Welcome! Before we begin, a video brought to you from the Capitol,” Luanna flicked her hand towards the screen. The same rebellious video played with Snow speaking deeply and slowly about Panem's history and the Hunger Games. Same shit different year.
"Let's get started, shall we?" Her voice rang through the silence, without an answer she scooted over to the girl's bowl and looked up to the unmoving crowd. "Ladies first." Her hand started to swirl around the perimeter of the bowl till she pushed it to the very bottom. Luanna cleared her throat before announcing the name Falda Vicson. A small brunette exited the front row with tears in her eyes.
A tiny drunk laugh escaped from the crowd of citizen's ineligible to be reaped into the Games. Garlen stood with a bottle swinging in between his too fingers while a smirk started to play on his pale face. Garlen chuckled silently again, only seen by my eyes as the others watched Falda take slow steps. I wanted away from him, I didn't want to be near him at all. If I died then so be it, if I came back the victor then maybe I could just ignore him or have him get help.
I held my father's gaze and shot my hand up in the air. "I volunteer." My heart started to thump in my throat as my hand lowered into the crowd. I stepped out as eyes followed my small trail forward when I repeated the two words more sternly.
The quiet girl from Seven spoke up. And boy was my mind going to be spoken in the Capitol. As I stood like a board on the stage, the boy's name was called. Damien from the woods slowly made his way up to the stage next to me.
Things happened for a reason, and change could be good. I wanted change, right?
The squeak of the small cot from across the room woke me up from what few would consider a good night sleep. The nightmares were few and far between, I had either grown out of them or pushed them so far back into my subconscious that they dare not resurface. I heard light footsteps cross the room, and I sat up to see Sage walking towards the door out of our room. I shook the grogginess out of my mind and walked over to where Sage was standing, her hand half reached out to the handle of the door.
The trees around the cabin never changed, at least not drastically. They would always be familiar, no matter what happened today at the reaping. These trees would stay exactly where they were and they would still shield this cabin from the main part of the district, and two children from the district would be sent off. I had grown detached from the reapings themselves; they didn’t affect me as much as they did everyone else in the district. I regretted grabbing my jacket from the cabin when a cool breeze blew through the trees. With the sun peeking up from the horizon already, I knew that I didn’t have much time before I had to head off to the center of the district to face my fate, whatever it may be.
After wandering aimlessly and simply thinking, I found myself back at the cabin that was now alive with the bustle of morning. Usually I missed this time of day and would already be at work, but with Mable in the kitchen attempting to scrounge up something for a decent breakfast and Olivia entertaining Sage with one of her made up games I had time to get ready for the reaping. Our lack of showers left just the washtub and I quickly scrubbed off whatever dirt that came as consequence for working mostly all day before stepping out. I wrapped one of our makeshift towels around my waist and saw that Mable had laid out an outfit for me. Usually I would be fine wearing what I wore on a daily basis, but everyone dressed up for the occasion so it was simply what was expected. The olive green t-shirt felt familiar, as did the jeans, but the button up over it felt restrictive and I couldn’t bring myself to button it up at all.
Even with Sage stuffing the time between bites with as many words as she could fit, breakfast was a solemn affair. I left before the rest of the family, knowing that there was no need to stand by them in line anyway. Every year, when they took my blood and read my name it wasn’t Damien Teslo, it was Damien Evander. The last name of my parents, the ones who sent me off because I reminded them of something that they didn’t want to be reminded of, was the one I had to live with.
Once I reached the Justice Building, it was a quick finger prick and grouping by ages before I found myself packed into the group of seventeen year olds waiting for the reaping to begin. I caught a glimpse of Sage’s rusty blonde hair out of the corner of my eye and saw that she was standing by Tiberius and Mable at the back of the crowd. Olivia was out of my eyesight, most likely tucked in between a few other children her age. Before I could look around more thoroughly, the heels of our escort clicked across the stage. Last year’s escort had been replaced most likely because they were either moved up or down in the districts, but the bleach blonde hair of Luanna Pices screamed Capitol along with her short skin tight purple dress and mile high shoes.
She tapped on the microphone which caused a screech to echo throughout the crowd, causing more than a few to put their hands up to their ears to block the noise. “Welcome!” Her voice was cheery, but falsely so and her accent so thick that she sounded foreign to even the capitolites. “Before we begin, a video brought to you from the Capitol,” she gestured her hand toward a large screen on the outskirts of the stage and the movie flickered to life. It seemed to pass by quickly, a few pictures from the rebellion, Snow speaking in the background, and other messages that were supposed to affect us more than they did me.
“Let’s get started shall we?” Luanna’s scuffled over to the bowl on her left and reached her hand inside, swishing the pieces of paper around before finally plucking one out. “Ladies first!” she called out and began to separate the slip of paper in order to read the name out. Before she could read the name aloud, a shout came from within the crowd.
“I volunteer!” That voice, it seemed familiar. I turned my head with the rest of the crowd to see the auburn hair of the girl I met yesterday as she stepped into the aisle. “I volunteer,” she said this time with less force, but just as fearless. It seemed like no time had passed when Luanna walked over to the other bow on stage. “Gentleman,” she said as she pried open yet another slip from a bowl.
“Damien Evander” her voice rang out my birth name and I stepped out into the aisle. With no emotion on my face except for a stoic confidence, I met eyes with my old family and my new. I could see the soft yellow of Sage’s dress at the back of the crowd before Gemma and I shook hands and were led into the justice building to face our fate.
It feels like I had just fallen asleep when Anslee wakes me up.
"He's been looking for you. Your fathers men have been going all over town searching. They haven't come here yet. But if they do and you're still here then I will not lie to them. I offered you a place to stay for the night but I am not your guardian. So I suggest you run." She left without another word. Reaping is the only place I have to run. There's always the possibility that I won't make it there after my actions last night. Death awaits me whether or not I make it there.
The center of town is only a short run from here. I can make it if there are no problems. The shop isn't open yet so that's a good thing. Through the windows I see the stragglers. I was late...
Each teenager dressed in their best clothing. Something glittery usually. My style is less glam more...unconventional. Before leaving I straighten out my clothes and run my fingers through my hair.
Reaping has never been a really big thing for me. Nothing big has much of an impact on me anymore. The small things do. Like Axel for example...my knight. With a deep breath I head out of the safety of the shop. The second I am out of that shop I hear the pound of footsteps. It's a straight shot from here. Once I get to check in, I will be safe. Or I hope the peacekeepers would see before then. Flight was the only option here. I could not fight them. As I ran, the footsteps grew closer. But something was off...they could have reached me by now. By the time I get there, the boy was already reaped. Apparently they did it out of order?
"Now for the females! Gwendolyn Dales."
Fuck! Not Gwen. If I allow this to happen then she will end up dying. As will I since my father would end up killing me. Either was I was dead. Volunteering will lengthen my life by days.
"I volunteer!"
Gwen stopped in her tracks and looked at me.
"Step forward girl. We have no time for your dilly dallying."
Impatient slut. Calm your nerves before you pop. I walked down the aisle. As I passed Gwen she said
"Freedom only to be trapped again. You should have let me go..."
Her words are in the past now. The stage is my present. When I reached the stage I did the basic introduction.
"Charlotte Dumont. Um where is the male tribute."
"And there you have it. Another brave volunteer. Excuse our disorganization. We just need to get a move on. I present to you Charlotte Dumont and Axel Starred! The tributes representing District 1 in the 33rd Annual Hunger Games."
Axel? As in my Axel? The story isn't supposed to go like this. The knight is supposed to save the damsel then they go through troubles but end up with a happy life. Nowhere in the story was the knight and damsel sentenced to death.
Without another word, I was escorted into the justice building.
My hands reached up to rub my eyes. Apparently sleep had come at some point, but I wasn’t feeling its refreshing effects. Between potential death and trying to straighten things out with Namika, today wasn’t going to be a particularly easy one. I groaned as I rolled over, forcing my feet to kick themselves from the bed to the floor, and bringing myself upright. It’s always the days where you’ve got to be somewhere that your bed seems most comfortable. My mother’s shrill, nervous voice kicked me into gear.
“I hope you’re washed already!” She shouted as she walked past my door. I grumbled in response indicating that I had, and made my way to the bath as quickly as was possible at that time of the morning. The warm water woke me up a little, but did nothing to straighten out my head. By the time I’d gotten dressed and into the living room, mum had already set out a breakfast on the small table. It wasn’t much; a simple arrangement of coffee, fruits and district four’s signature bread, but it was enough. I wasn’t particularly hungry anyway.
“It’ll be okay, you know.” My dad nodded encouragingly in my direction. “You’ve taken tesserae once in your life, I’d say your odds were pretty good. Not to mention all the academy kids itching for the chance to volunteer.”
“Yeah… thanks.” I half smiled back at him. “I know. I’m just tired.” I took a bit mouthful of bread, indicating I’d had enough to talking. I knew I wasn’t going to end up in the arena, I just hated the whole process. Standing in the square – not to mention how cold it was outside – to wait for two names to be pulled, for two people, usually, to volunteer, and then go home again. I had better things to do, like try and figure things out with my best friend.
Before long, it was time to leave. I hugged my parents tightly, telling them both that I loved them, before running into the street to catch up with Ehvan, a friend of mine from the academy. He smiled as he saw me running towards him, happy to have company walking to the reaping.
“This is my year, man!” Ehavn beamed. My confusion on my face must have been evident, as he explained. “To volunteer. I’ve waited for so long! It’s all been sorted out with the academy and everything, I’m going to bring the win to district four this year! Unless whatever sorry ass kid gets his name pulled out wants to volunteer, but what are the chances of that?” he smiled, and I laughed in response. I was taken aback he was volunteering, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he did come home again. His work with a spear was second to none.
I stood next to him when we finally got into the square, too. I’d never had one of my friends volunteer before. If I wasn’t so confident in his abilities, I might be worried. Sad, even. But if I knew Ehvan, he’d take out the other tributes before they even got a chance to step off the platform. I thought back to three years ago, where he’d accidentally killed a trainer at the academy who underestimated him in a training fight. He would have been kicked out had the powers-that-be not decided he was too valuable and worth training even further. He’d started saying something else about how this was his big chance and how he’d throw a big party when he got back, but I was distracted as I saw Namika standing across the square with the other girls. I willed her to glance my way, but she didn’t. At least, I didn’t catch it if she did. She just kept looking where she was looking, ignoring anybody who might be trying to get her attention. It didn’t matter, I’d talk to her afterwards. Catch her on her way out or something. My focus was broken when the talking and scuffling around the square stopped. A few kids who were clearly leaving their potential fate to the last minute ran into their positions quietly, but everybody else stood still as the Major, our escort, Cassy, and our district’s mentor, Lilana Gustav, walked onto the stage. I’d never met her before – though, if it meant keeping me out of the arena, I’d rather keep it that way.
Whilst the others sat down, Cassy walked to the centre of the stage. As everyone’s eyes landed on her a peacekeeper went to pass her a microphone. Snatching it, she muttered something about her bronchitis before tapping the microphone.
“Alright y’all, my bronchitis is acting up so let’s get this over with. Jesus! Is that a fire?” she shouted and pointed in the distance. We all looked over our shoulders and didn’t see anything, returning to looking at her we narrowed our eyes, confused by the woman in front of us. Once she had been reassured by the Mayor that there wasn’t a fire, she calmed down and continued with her speech.
“Look, I was meant to give you some speech about how fabulous the Capitol is but ain’t nobody got time fo’ dat so just watch this video and pay attention.” ‘Sassy Cassy’ had been a great escort for many years but last year she’d been involved in a fire that had left her tragically scarred. Nobody knew if she’d be able to carry on the job but somehow she managed to struggle through.
The video had only been playing for a few minutes before she held her hand up and motioned for someone to stop it. She sniffed the air, her expression focused on what she could smell.
“I’m sorry, I thought somebody was barbecuing. I love me some good chicken.” Her sentence attracted yet more looks of confusion from the crowd in front of her, but it didn’t seem to faze her. She motioned for the video to be continued. The whole crowd watched the video but kept one eye trained on the bizarre escort, waiting for her to say something else however she managed to remain silent for the rest of the video, instead choosing to use her inhaler.
When the video finally finished, I looked back over to the stage where Cassy was enjoying a cold pop. She didn’t seem in a rush to continue, making sure she’d finished before addressing the crowd once more. Most of the people wanted to complain but no-one dared say anything because Cassy’s mental state was currently in question; rumour had it she was prepared to cut a bitch. Satisfied she had gotten the most out of her cold pop, she started to speak again.
“So, where ma’ ladies at?” Cassy hollered down the microphone and shoving it in the stand she gestured for the bowl of names. She thrust her hand into the bowl and searched through the papers, selecting one from the bottom. As she pulled it out she remarked “Girl, I got to get my nails did”. Just as she went to speak an interruption from the crowd stopped her, someone had volunteered.
My head snapped to the side, scanning the crowd for the girl who’d volunteered. I begged myself that it wasn’t her voice I’d heard, just my mind playing tricks on me, but before I knew it, Namika was walking towards the stage. Up the steps. To the microphone.
My world went cold. Why was she doing this? To prove herself? To punish me? Ehvan said something to me, asking if I was okay, but I was too distracted to answer him. This wasn’t really happening. I was still asleep, and I’d wake up, and this wouldn’t be happening. But it was. She was going to the arena. There was nobody to help her in there, nobody to protect her. She might not come back.
“Alright..eager” Cassy mumbled under her breath and shrugged, because she knew that in District Four ain’t nobody got time for choosing a tribute. They already had this figured out for months. She looked out at the people standing in front of her for a while, as if about to say something, but snapped back to reality and continued.
“Time for ma’ men,” she winked at the boys in the crowd, holding out her hand for the other reaping bowl. Realising she couldn’t reach it, she rolled her eyes. “Ain’t nobody got time fo’ this!” Cassy shook her head as she approached the bowl, dropping her hand in and grabbing a slip of paper before returning to the microphone. She unfolded it quickly, taking a breath before announcing the result. “Ch-” she started, but was interrupted once more.
“I volunteer!” I heard the words from somewhere in the crowd, but they didn’t come from Ehvan. Looking around, I realised who had spoken them. It was me. Shit.
“What are you doing?” Ehvan whispered in my ear, aggression evident behind the words. He ran into the aisle between the boys and girls, and trained his attention on Cassy. “No! I volunteer! It’s supposed to be me!” he shouted, angry.
“Well… I… uh,” Cassy was taken by surprise. This didn’t happen often, not like this. She quickly thought of an easy way out, though it was a long shot. “Maybe the name on the paper wants to go themselves? You know they get priority!” She did a nervous laugh, and unfolded the paper before stepping closer to the microphone. “Chase Dawson?” She asked, hoping for the best.
For a few seconds, I did nothing but stare at the stage. Really, the odds of that happening were next to none, but I stepped forward infront of a now-cursing-under-his-breath Ehvan.
“That’s me.” I said firmly. I didn’t look at Namika. I could guess she would be a little angry that I’d done this. I walked up the stairs to the stage.
“Oh lordy Jesus, I’m glad we’re done. I think my bronchitis was beginning to flare up again, you know what I’m sayin’?” Cassy said with a chuckle and looked at us. Unsure how to respond we offered a weak smile in response, before she wrapped things up with a brief “Peace out”.
My eyes scanned the crowd, but it was one face that I settled on. My mother’s. There aren’t words for the look in her eyes. Devastation doesn’t quite cover it. Horror isn’t strong enough. Dread might come pretty close, but it’s still a way off. She’d already lost one child, she couldn’t even face the prospect of losing another. I shut my eyes, breathing out slowly and realising what I’d done.
“Up so soon?” Acton voice makes me raise my head from the old, leather quiver. The sun just got up and our little cabin is still slightly dark. It astonishes me how I got used to live inside these four walls that create an only, small division. The fact that we managed to get a bed, cooking supplies and some other small things necessary for our survival in here is quite impressive and the only thing that comforts me is knowing I just need to open the door to smell the nature and the fresh air.
Standing up, I walk to my notebook, open on the table. I want to go hunt today. It’s my last reaping, so it’s the last year I have to do my lucky ritual, I write and stand quiet as he kisses my cheek and reads over my shoulder. Since my thirteen years of age, I go hunt on the morning before running to the Town Center. It calms my heart and I would feel incomplete without it. “Okay, I’ll go with you. Just let me get dress.” Before he has a chance to walk away, I grab his hand. Don’t you even think about that. I always go alone and, besides, I won’t take the notebook with me. You know how I feel about not being able to communicate… It’s easy to see how much faster I write and how better my calligraphy is. I guess it’s just like blind people having better hearing. “Lavender, please,” he pouts childishly and I nod negatively. “Fine.” Acton laughs, kissing me and making me wonder for the millionth time why my does heart fall on my knees just by the soft brush of his lips in mine. “Have fun.” After he releases my hand I just have time to smile before my feet take me to the outside of the house and into the woods.
Just like I thought, it smells amazing. Not too far, people are working under this burning sun and I know better but to get near them. Peacekeepers don’t quite enjoy my presence since I was allowed to live in the woods and I don’t enjoy being whipped like some kind of selvage animal. I feel the earth under my feet as I try not to step on little sticks which the noise could send the meat away. We do not want that. Sometimes I feel bad, thinking about those poor animals but they are hard to find here. We always have fruit and vegetables on the table, but meat is difficult to get, fish is even harder. And it’s not like Acton shift at apple catching provide is with enough money. Living in the edge of poverty is a scary thing but here, with the quiver in my shoulder, a bow in hand and a knife on my felt, I feel completely safe and at ease.
I was walking for less than half an hour when, suddenly, I heard a small noise, one that would be hard to recognize to untrained hears but mine are used to these kind of animal. The hissing of a snake echoes inside my head and I hide behind a tall tree and wait to see the little movement on the ground. It doesn’t take long for me to note the leaves moving underneath me and, in a swift move, stab the snake with my favorite hunting knife, trespassing her thin body. The poor animal moves around for a second before going limb. I pick it up and put it into a small bag. The hunting ends up going quite well, me ending up with two rabbits, a squirrel and the snake. Better than usual, to be honest.
On the way home, I see a pear tree and stop in front of it. I could probably take some home…We both love pears but I don’t really want to climb to get them. I end up sighing and walking away, back to our little house. Climbing was never a thing I enjoyed doing, especially since I felt and stayed on the ground, with my leg broken for at least an hour before someone came to get me. A cold shiver runs down my spine and I spasm at the uncomfortable memory. Acton will probably steal something from work.
When I get home again, the sun is already high and I leave everything inside, taking only the dead animals to a little river that run besides our cabin. He isn’t here so probably decided to do an early shift so that he can accompany me to the Town Center. I wash the blood and take them back inside, putting the soulless little things on the stand and taking off their skin. This is always the worst part, maybe a little too brutal for my eyes. I cook the snake and the squirrel, wanting to have a good lunch before the reaping. We have some potatoes and cook them in the little oven, thinking about how my mother did it in our kitchen. Quickly, I send those thoughts away, because thinking of my house, now transformed into grey and toxic ashes, it’s too painful.
Finally, the food is ready and I put the table, not forgetting a jar with a little rose on the center. Knowing Acton will be home soon, I dress myself for the reaping. The chosen dress is one that belonged to my mother, one of the few he was able to save. With it covering my body, I feel like I have a cause to defend, my “cause to rebel for.” These words still make my blood boil in my veins, but, one day, I will get my vengeance. The Capitol will pay for the pain they caused, not only for me but for everyone in Panem.
As I wait, I sit in front of the piano. Fun story for this one actually, Acton and I found it on the Victors Village, waiting for someone to carry it inside. Me loving music as I always did, I begged him to take it so we did. The thing is that the woods are exactly in the opposite side of the District, so we had to carry it carefully so that no one would figure out about our little crime. Good days those ones. And sitting in front of this piano I can’t even control my fingers, they automatically start to play a calm lullaby, pressing the keys delicately. Inside my brain, I sing, but it leaves me with sadness that the words will never be able to come out of mouth, but I still hum it, proud with the softness in my throat. This brings me such an inner peace that the dark thoughts disappear and I wish I could stay like this forever. Peaceful. Alive.
Someone coughing makes me drift away from my thoughts. “I love to hear you play,” Acton enters the room, leaving the basket on the floor before walking towards me. “And I love when you makes us lunch.” I immediately stop playing and let him kiss me on the cheek. Standing up, I grab my notebook. I always make lunch, you idiot, I write, showing it to him with a laugh. Looking overly chocked he punches me on the shoulder, then just hugs me and pushes me against the wall. “And what now?” He raises an eyebrow, pressing himself against me so I can’t move and look into my eyes with an amused smirk. Out of nowhere, he starts tickling me and I bend over, laughing hysterically. After a few seconds of pure torture that he seems to enjoy, he gives a step back. “Lets go eat.” Grabbing my hand, he pulls the chair so that I can sit, just like a real gentleman which makes me giggle.
We have a pleasant conversation, if you can call it that, and lunch. I can’t taste the food anymore, but I can always use my memories and the smell of it to enjoy the food that I learned to chew without a tongue. After that, we walk to the Town Center, both in silence. I’m not scared, even with the tesserae, if they wanted me to fight to death they would have done it sooner, when I was still a little girl. I leave Acton with my notebook and pen, since he’s already twenty one, and walk to sign up, knowing he’s utterly worried about me.
As usual, the picking the finger part is uncomfortable but not painful. I walk to meet the other eighteen years old girls and wait for our escort to come on stage. It was a small woman, but I didn’t want to care. The presence of a Capitoline wasn’t enjoyable, so I looked around as she talked, only retrieving my sight to the stage when she walked to the girls bow. People whisper around me, some only trembling with fear. I look curious as she opens the small piece of paper. “Lavender Morin.” The name lingers on the air.
No.
Fuck no.
My eyes open wide. This can’t be happening. No. This must be another nightmare. Acton is going to wake me up in no time. Yes, this is just a nightmare.
A peacekeeper comes to escort me to the stage and pulls my arm. I groan, hating those men touch more than a fire burn. “Morin you’re spared. Now you’re going to die just like your parents did,” the peacekeeper whispers to me with a grin. And that’s when I lose it. My sight goes black, and I feel my knuckles hitting his nose. He stumbles back hand in his face and looking at me, completely disgusted.
I made it worst didn’t I?
Well I don’t regret.
Small sobs get stuck on my throat when I walk on stage, denying the peacekeepers hands. Our escort, chocked, doesn’t give me a word and I look down, scared of meeting Acton eyes in the crowd. What’s going to happen now? What’s an Avox girl doing in the Hunger Games? How can I take my revenge now? I can’t cry and I’m still too confused to even think straight.
Next thing I know, I’m pulled inside the Justice Building with my district partner.
Wow I didn’t even heard his name, I think as the whispers of the crowd get behind. And it’s like I’m already dead.
The sounds of my family bustling to and fro woke me up. I guess they'd tried to let me sleep in a little. One of the few comforts they could afford me today. I smiled at the thought and got up quickly, navigating my way to the small back room to wash off. "Gotta look good for reaping day." I chuckled to myself. It was something of a sick running joke in the Seam, the day we looked out best was the day we were sent off to die.
My mother had already heated up some water for me as I stripped down and eased my body into the small tub. I sighed as the warm water soaked into my skin and layers of dirt caked on from years of work and play. I dumped the bucked over my head and blinked my eyes through the stream of water. A hot bath, another small luxury. Today was turning out to be a great day.
I pulled on the white shirt I'd worn for the past two years, buttoning it up but leaving it open a bit at the top. I could afford to be a little risque now. Next came the pair of grey pants, slim and comfortable. I'm surprised at how well they kept with the perpetual dirtiness of the place. Finally came what was sadly my prized possession, a pair of shiny brown shoes that had cost my dad three paychecks to buy. They were a little uncomfortable from lack of wear but I didn't mind.
Most of Panem would probably consider the outfit simple but I loved it. Every year I made sure to thank my parents for it and tell them how much I loved the outfit. They worked hard to be able to afford something this nice and I was grateful for that fact. My mother gasped as I stepped into the main room like she always did. She rushed over to hug me then took her place at the table and I followed suit.
Fast forward past an uneventful breakfast and we were walking to the square in a row. Our little family huddled together for support, just like every other family in the seemingly endless herd of people. With a few more farewells hugs and kisses and a fair share of encouraging words I broke off from my family to line up with the rest of the eligible children. It had become monotonous, line up, finger prick, identification, find your age, stand in line, wait till it was over, go home and celebrate another year of life. The whole thing sort of blended together for me and before I knew it there I was standing like cattle at an auction with the other seventeen year old males.
My eyes always seemed to settle on the young ones. The ones who had just become eligible and the panic was clear on their faces. I really just wanted to comfort them, remind them that the odds were in their favour and the chances of them being reaped were astronomically small. Any of the boys I was standing beside could tell you that seeing as at least half had their names in a dozen or more times. How many times was I in this year? Fifteen? Twenty?
The escort for Twelve tottered onto stage along with the mayor and Twelve's own victor Jeb. This was the part of the reaping ceremony I began to tune out. Thoughts of sunshine and times long passed filled my head, a sort of way for me to deal with stress. My thoughts shifted to a familiar head of dark hair. A cheeky smile and plump red lips. The faint scent of fruit and tobacco. The way her laugh seemed to almost be a song, melodic and beautiful. "Wendy Spektor!" Yes, that's her name. Wendy... WAIT!
Frantically I searched for her in the crowd. It wasn't hard as it parted to let her through. My heart shattered as her face came into view, shaking and terrified. I wanted to call out to her, to protect her. I couldn't tell you where these urges were coming from or why I decided to do what I did next. As she slipped on stage and had to be helped up I pushed my way to the pathway separating the boys and girls, standing alone in the middle. "I volunteer!" I shouted, surprised at the strength of my voice.
The escort whose hand was halfway dipped into the bowl of male names was completely frozen with no idea of what to do. Twelve having two volunteers in the span of only a few years, it was completely unheard of. I didn't have to turn around to see my parents, I could hear the screams from where I was. I knew I wouldn't be able to turn and face them so I didn't, I just tried to keep my calm and walk forwards. I focused on my footfalls just as I had the day before, one in front of the other.
Wendy's gaze was something else I did my best to avoid as I shuffled up the steps onto the stage. There was no way I could explain to her what I had just done if I couldn't explain it to myself. So instead I kept my head down and approached the microphone as instructed.
"What's your name deary?"
"Samson Sparrow." I spoke clearly into the mic.
"And can you tell everyone why you decided to volunteer?" The sugar sweet voice was beginning to grate on my nerves but she asked the one question I was dreading.
"Uhh.. well Wendy is my friend and I.. didn't want her to go into the arena alone." That sounded fake even to me. Luckily the escort seemed to buy it and started rattling off some other nonsense which I hardly paid attention to. I finally took the chance to look up at my parents. The tears were evident but there was something else underneath it, pride. A pair of strong hands gripped my shoulder and ripped me away from the stage. Wendy and I were made to briefly shake hands before the two of us were stowed away inside the justice building, now official Capitol property.
