@ConverseFireGirl That or physical description, just something for other players to go on.
Right, I am going to start this, but please don't take it beyond first posts, as I specified in the first post*, until I give the word. Anyone can start us off!
*From the reaping to the entrance of the Hotel.
You know that studded leather armour in films? Nobody wore that. I mean, how would metal studs improve leather armour?
[b] Tressa Alodia [/b] I feel a slight prick in my finger, but it isn't anything I'm not used to. The peacekeeper in front of me touches my finger to white paper, smearing my blood. I move on then, into my line for my gender and age group. It's time for the reaping to begin, and even my best friend is a little jumpy. She, Azalea, touches my arm lightly as we walk together in our lines towards the stage. We smile nervously at each other. Az and I have been friends for a few years, and we always stand by each other in the reaping. We watch as the announcer walks on stage. I can never remember her name. She clears her throat.
"Hello, my name is Effie Trinket, welcome to the reaping of the hundredth annual Hunger Games. We will start with a video presentation brought to you directly from the Capitol." I roll my eyes slightly and tune out the video. Instead, I take a moment to clasp Azalea's hand, and breathe in fresh air.
All around me are nervous children, most gazes are turned to the big screens at least fifty feet above Effie's head. Effie's eyes are closed and she mouths the words along with the video. She's old, but surgeries and makeup make her look much younger than she really is. Effie must be somewhere in her fifties though she doesn't look a day over twenty five. Her outfits always have a theme and this this year, it's ladybugs.
The video ends, and Effie clears her throat once again. "Let the reaping begin, and may the odds be ever in your favor. As usual, ladies first." She swallows before she daintily reaches a hand into the glass bowl. I imagine that I'm a fish, trapped in that bowl. My mother used to show me old books with pictures and I remember seeing a fish in water kept in something just like that.
Effie's middle and pointer finger grasp a small piece of paper. She carefully unfolds the tiny piece of paper, she squints slightly at the name then opens her mouth.
"Tressa Alodia." My head jerks up at the recognition of my name. Everybody around me turns to stare at me, and Azalea clutches me into a hug. I gently push her away and stumble up the stairs to the stage. I vaguely hear Effie call a boy's name. I'm not sure if I know him. I'm in a daze as we shake hands, and I'm led to a room with a single chair and table. I'm granted five minutes to say goodbye.
My parents, my siblings and Az file in. They give me grim looks. I have one brother, and one sister. My sister, Tana, is crying. She's my twin and we are incredibly close. My brother, Robin, is doing his best to look brave. He's only seven and I've never been more proud of him. Azalea folds me into a hug, and she gives me a pat on the back before my mother steps forward.
"Tress, do you remember who you were named after?" I nod, and she continues. "You were named after the tribute from our district, the male, Thresh, from the 74th hunger games. He was kind, and spared a girl in the arena, although it lead to his death. He was very brave, and I know you will live up to your name. It's very important that you don't trap yourself. Leave your options open." She removes a chain from her neck. On the chain is a perfect sphere of amber, and trapped inside is a single lily. It's my mother's most prized possession aside from her children, and tears prick my eyes as she places it around my neck.
"Like the lily, you are beautiful. Just don't lose sight of the big picture, or you may never free yourself." I hug my family.
"I love you all, and I won't ever give up. Mom, Dad, I know you'll manage without me," I move on to Tana. "Be strong, my sister." I lean down to Robin and give him a kiss on the cheek. For Az, I say, "Az, you're my best friend. If I die in the arena, it's been wonderful getting to know you." We hug before peacekeepers take me to board the train. I don't want to leave my family and I'm so scared, I'm speechless. As I exit the Justice Building, I'm hit with a bright light.
My eyes adjust and I see that Effie and the boy are already at the platform to board the train. I finger the amber pendant as I step off the platform. Effie speaks up then as she explains the details about the train and the luxuries and what we should do with our mentor, Rose. She turns suddenly before we enter the dining car.
"I almost forgot my manners! Welcome to the 100th Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor."
Last edited by Gravity on Wed Feb 19, 2014 3:15 am, edited 1 time in total.
And the heart is hard to translate It has a language of its own It talks in tongues and quiet sighs, And prayers and proclamations
"Put on your best clothes." There is no weight behind the words, partly because they have been said so many times before but mainly because they're useless. Nobody can bear to acknowledge what really happens at the reapings; real thoughts are hidden beneath pitiful smiles and sympathetic nods. I dry my hands on the tattered cloth beside the sink and take a deep breath.
Our kitchen isn't anything to admire but it's sufficient. All of the essentials, a sink, stove and plenty of cupboards. We even have a refrigerator, a gift from one of Nora's admirers. I have known Nori since I was young, she was like the older sister I wish I could have had growing up. So when she turned eighteen and had survived her seventh reaping, she had decided to care for me as if I were her own.
As a baby I had been left at the forests edge, a defenceless bundle of blankets abandoned for another to find. Luckily whomever had decided to leave me there had done so, so close to District 13. Construction workers had found me eventually and I was brought up as a lost child, an orphan until Nori's grandmother vowed to bring me up.
I have never been one to like nostalgia, especially when thinking about the past somehow leads my thoughts towards the death of Nori's grandmother. Even though years have passed, I don't think either of us will ever truly get over the loss.
"After today, just one more year and then you'll be free." Nori has been counting down each reaping with me. I'm sure everybody does. "I'm sure saying that aloud is tempting fate." I'm not particularly superstitious but it forces a smile to appear on Nori's face. She is taller than I am, my head is level with her shoulder but she definitely has the stature for it. Long, graceful limbs that make each of her movements appear elegant and poised; something I will never master. I'm not particularly out of shape or clumsy but my body moves more directly, Nori calls it confidence. Her hair is silky, long and as black as the coal from the mines of 12; mine is wavy, wild and a loud brunette.
"I don't know about you, but the one good thing to come out of reaping day are the extended showers. A whole fifteen minutes I spent underneath that warm water, it was glorious." The words should be said with more enthusiasm, not an emptiness. Nori doesn't like to tip toe around things but I'm used to it, this front of hers, this time each year this side of her appears. A side that opts for the brighter sides of things and greener pastures; beliefs that she has called idiotic on more than one occasion.
"Definitely." I walk into my bedroom and shimmy out of my plain thirteen uniform; it is grey, a sleeveless jumpsuit. I managed to score a belt several months ago, which keeps the large fabric from sliding off of my body. I pull the wooden handles of my wardrobe open and am filled with the familiar sense of deflation that sparks when I see how little I actually own. It isn't from lack of resources or money, because between Nori and myself, we have more than enough to live on. It's the absence of need. We don't need any comfortable, visibly pleasing clothing because there isn't anywhere for us to wear it. So aside from food and other essentials, our earnings go to material objects thought to enhance our beauty. Pastes and powders that turn our worn faces into glowing, younger masks.
I retrieve my reaping outfit; an ordinary beige dress handed down to me from Nori. It's simple yet acceptable for venturing towards death; it doesn't do anything to distinguish me from the crowd. Everybody looks the same once we're divided up, though understandably none of us are ever there to make an impression.
+++
I walk silently beside Nori as we follow the sluggish crowd towards the large town square. Though there are only three partly constructed buildings and nothing else to signify this area except from the temporary stage. We are all just standing in a glorified meadow.
"Why don't they just round us all up and kill us?" My gaze snaps to my right at the mutterings of a mother, she is clutching three small boys in front of her. Nori slides her fingers around my hands and picks up her pace. She doesn't treat me like a child but she knows how to stay strong and hearing useless rants aren't her idea of productivity. I would had both loved and despised seeing Nori within the games. She's a natural born survivor, even without all of the training we've both received; as soon as her name was retrieved from that bowl, strategies would be swirling around in her mind.
We are lost in the crowd now, people have stopped to give words of comfort and support to their children, siblings. Nori looks around defensively at the peacekeeper presence, she never trusted them. "You aren't going to get picked. Basic statistics, of course you could be picked but you have the same odds as everybody else here." Her hands are placed firmly on my shoulders and she kisses my forehead. Though we don't speak about family, I know that we are sisters; we protect one another and the reaping's are no different.
"I know, you say the same thing every year. I'm going to stand there for awhile, think about something else and then look forward to the finest food thirteen has to offer." There's always the best of the best served in the cafeteria on reaping day, aside from the showers, it's the only good thing to come out of today.
Nori smiles at me, though her eyes betray her. She knows it's very likely that I could get picked but she wouldn't dare voice her concern. Survival is her end game and it's something I'm happy to uphold; something I have grown up learning.
So it's undoubtedly a shock when I realise all eyes are on me. The prick of my finger, the fading whispers of those left speaking, all of it passed by in a blur. I was staring at Nori when it happened, her encouraging smile turning sour in the instant. At first I thought somebody she knew had been called but looking around, I couldn't see anybody moving.
Now I'm the centre of attention, the screens are portraying my face and the bodies around me are parting. I am a tribute. The word sounds foreign to me, like I never fully understood the concept until now.
"Paisley Mane." My name is called for a second time and it's like I've been shot. My name isn't something I wanted to hear, I don't want peacekeepers heading towards me, I don't want to see Nori's hands clenched into fists. I don't want to die.
"Beware the darkness in your heart. The Heartless prey upon it."
"Mom. I can't. Please don't make me." I tell Mother. My gut instinct was telling me that I was going to be one of the chosen ones. My heart raced just thinking about the reaping. I couldn't bare leaving Nessie, my baby sister. At age 4, you don't know what's really going on. "Bry, I know you don't want to, but we have too." she replied. "Now put on your dress." she said again. Sighing, I get dressed, with a tear in my eye.
When we arrived to the reaping, Effie was showing a video. My finger was pricked and it hurt like hell. I entered and got into the middle of all the people. When everyone was being called, I was busy holding Vanessa. (Nessie) she is my pride and joy, even though she is my baby sister, she is more like a daughter I never had.
"Brylee Nichols." I immediately turned to face the front. "No. Mom no. I can't leave yall!" I say starting to cry. I hug my mother and Nessie and just stay there, she calls my name again and i finally parted ways. "It's for the best Bry. Remember that." my mother called out to me.
After everyone had been called. The reaping was over, we went to some building to meet our families to say our final goodbyes. Everyone would die, except one, and I knew I wasn't going to be one of them.
"You have five minutes." one of the guards said. I hugged my mom and Nessie and we sat down and i had to catch my breath. "Why does this have to happen to me?" I ask her. "In my whole life all I tried to do was the right thing, and now I get this in return?" Mother rubbed my head as i cried in her shoulder. Nessie just stood there beside us not knowing what to do. I snatched her up and gave her a big squeeze. "I'm doing this for you babe." I say to her. "Wuv you." Nessie said and hugged my neck.
Tears wet my face and her hair. I was so emotionally distraught.
Just then there was a knock at the door. It was the guard telling us time was up. I held on to them and they left before I did. "We are about to leave this facility Ms. Nichols, you have a few minutes alone. I'll come get you soon." he told me. Nodding, I sat in the chair my mom was in.
"Ice, look at this!" He exclaimed, as he tugged my hand.
I crouched down, and looked at what was in his hand.
"What is it, Rick?" I asked, tilting my head a bit.
He pointed to an oval type thing he'd drawn on a paper. "It's you, Isiss! That is you walking away from the reaping, not chosen!"
Smiling, a placed a kiss on his cheek, and stood up straight.
My mom walked in the room, hand in hand with Kalen. "Are you ready to go, dear?"
I wore a dark blue dress, that went to my knees. I'd had my hair pushed back with a hair pin, but I pulled it out right after Mom put it in.
"Yeah, I think so." I replied, while I slipped on my shoes.
"Isis, come here." Mom beckoned me.
My legs were slightly soar from training all the time. Ma always said it was good to train, just in case I do get picked at a reaping to be a tribute.
When I reached my mom, she turned me around, and tied the strings together on the back of my dress.
"Alright! Kalen, Maverick, come on. It's time to go to the reaping!" She took their hands, and led them out the door.
************
I stood in the line of boys and girls, not worried about anything. I'd never been chosen, and I didn't believe this would be the year I would.
But there's always a chance.
After they pricked my finger, I walked back to my mom, who was still holding my siblings hands.
"Reaping's about to start." I muttered, as I watched the weird lady climb up the stairs to get on the stage.
What was her name? Evelyn? No, it was something else.
"Hello, everyone! My name is Elise Jenson, and welcome to the 100th annual Hunger Games!" Her voice boomed. "At this time, we will show a video given to you from the capitol."
She moved the microphone away from her makeup caked face, and turned her attention toward the screen. I never watched the video, because it was always a bunch of bull.
Kalen took my hand in hers. I turned to my siblings, and gazed at them. It hurt to think about when they were older, because they'd have to go though this every year, until they were past 18.
As the clip ended, I turned back towards the stage.
"Now, let the reaping begin! May the odds be ever in your favor." She moved towards the big glass bowl, with paper almost filling up. "As usual, ladies first!"
Elise moved her hand around the bowl, dug down a bit, and pulled out a small, white, folded paper.
I heard my mom clear her throat nervously.
Elise flicked her eyes back to the crowd. "Isis Cooper."
I kept a straight face, though my mother didn't. I could hear sobs escaping her mouth.
I woke up with a smile. This was the day I was going to leave this hell hole to go win the hunger games. I jumped out of bed and changed into a pair of swim shorts. I ran outside and straight into the river that laid behind our home. My hands wrapped around a trident by the edge of the water making my blood fill with adrenaline. I blew air slowly out of my nose focusing only on the small silver fish circling around my feet. My arms raised over my head as I jabbed the trident into the large fish.
I walked back into my house and pulled the fish off my trident and onto the stove top. A knock sounded on the door as I flipped the fish onto a plate.
"Its open!" I called cutting the fish into 4 equal quarters.
I felt hands wrap around my torso and kiss land on my still bare back. I smiled to my self and turned around and picked the small red head up.
"You know I'm gonna have to cheat on you for a bit during the games to win." I said kissing her temple.
"I know," Artimis replied wrapping her legs around my waist, "Promise you won't forget about me, baby?"
I nodded and leaned in a received a long sweet kiss. I placed Artimis back onto the ground and put the 4 plates of fish out on the table just as my two brothers and mother walked into the room.
"I'll see you at the ceremony," Artimis whispered into my neck sending shivers down my back.
The door slammed shut and I joined my family at the table. We ate in silence because we all knew, today I was leaving. The bell rang and I cursed under my breath as I ran into my room and quickly changed into a button up shirt, work boots, and khakis. I hugged my mom and brothers and ran out of the house not wanting to see them cry.
I made my way into the town square and found my place in between my two best friends, Cyner and Finn.
"Good luck buddy," Cyner whispered high fiving me.
Eliza Mennyrose walked onto the stage dressed in a pink that made your eyes burn and spoke into the microphone starting the ceremony. I ignored what she was saying and pounced on the balls of my feet waiting for my turn to shine.
She picked a girl I didn't know, she looked around 13 or 14.
"Finn Abern!" Eliza said her pink hair bouncing.
I watched Finn tense up next to me as he looked over at me tears in his eyes. I hugged him and said, "I volunteer as tribute!"
I walked out in front of the sobbing Finn and up towards the stage my heart pounding in my head. I walked up the stairs looking no where but forward and looked out into the crowd. My brothers waved at me as my mother nodded slowly at me looking stronger than ever. I found Artimis' crying figure as her friends encased her fragile body in a tight hug. I felt numb as I was led into the darkness of a room. I sat in a wooden chair knowing that my mother and brothers would never come to say goodbye. I fumbled with a small piece of string hanging off my pant leg.
"Leo," A small voice said from the doorway.
Artimis walked in and sat down on my lap tears streaking her cheeks. I kissed her softly as her hands slipped something into my pocket. I smiled at her and kissed her forehead before she pulled away by the guards. I heard her screaming as I slipped my hand into my pocket to find a silver fish key chain. I smiled at clipped it onto my belt loop and let my self feel happy for a moment.
How the hell are we suppose to look forward to the future if we aren't sure if we will be alive in the next 20 seconds?
I look in the mirror, one of the few in our building, as Mom brushes my hair. It's wavy and hard to control, but she knows how to get it just right. I wish we could spend more time together.
In my District, Nine, there are several large buildings where everyone lives. Everyone twelve or older gets their own room. But there's only a couple full length mirrors per building, which is a pain.
I'm wearing a light blue sundress that makes me feel free. I allow myself a small smile. Mom looks up and the corners of her mouth turn upwards which makes her look beautiful, despite her weathered face and tired eyes.
"You're ready." She says, putting the brush down. I nod, my smile gone. Suddenly this seems real. This is my third reaping and the first time I haven't lost my dinner before the start- so far. My name has been put in five times. There aren't a whole lot of boys and girls in District Nine, which only makes me more anxious that I'll get picked.
"Hey," She says and I turn around to face her. "I love you."
"Love you too, mom. I'll see you soon." It was a tradition that I walk to the reaping alone, she would follow and arrive in time to hear the names called. To symbolize independence, I guess.
I walk the half mile to the Justice Building, the oldest building in the district, where the reaping will be taking place.
I get in line with all the other children and vaguely feel a prick on my finger, but I'm too nervous for my mind to settle on that.
Even though there aren't many boys and girls here, I'm not that tall and I can't find Zia and Daniel. I shudder. I don't want to face this alone.
A woman from the Capitol, Charissa Paulo walks up the stairs in front of the building. She's always wearing a wig with an outfit to match. This time everything's blue.
"Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" She sings. My jaw tightens.
She starts to make a speech, but I stop listening halfway through. I can't bear to hear about how much we owe the Capitol. My thoughts trail away. It's a long time before I bring my focus back to her.
"Aviva Greene!" My head snaps up. I feel empty. Why me? It wasn't supposed to go like this. The boys and girls part to make a path from me to the stage. I don't want to walk, but my feet move out of their own accord. I walk up the stairs, ignoring Charissa's hand, which has reached out to help me.
I look out onto the crowd, which is absolutely silent. I feel no pain, no sadness. That will come later. For now, I feel nothing.
Charissa calls out a boy's name and the next thing I know, I'm being lead to a room where my friends and family will say goodbye.
Zia and Daniel come in first. Zia runs to me and hugs me tight. She has tears on her cheeks.
"Avi, listen. You can't just give up, you have a chance."
I nod, but refuse to say anything. I wouldn't sound like myself.
We just sit there for our five minutes and the guards come to take them out.
My mom comes in.
She sits down next to me.
"Your father's going to kill himself for not being here." She says.
I nod again.
She sighs and turns to me. "I can feel you giving up. You can't do that."
"Says who?" I finally speak.
"Me!" She stands up. "Please try to come home."
I don't respond.
The guards come in once again. I feel her press something into my hands as she walks away.
I look down and see a single string of beads.
I start to cry.
And passersby who heard his echoing laughter wondered what kind of grief man had to go through before he could laugh so free.
Tension and static flitter through the crowd, bringing the silent, stone angels in their reaping frocks to life. It's like a hive of trackerjackers- not quite moving, not quite screaming, just shifting in the shades of black and grey and buzzing with energy and danger.
I love it.
Every year whispers tell of a riot, but this year, maybe this year will be the right one. If I get picked, I'll start it. We used to talk about it all the time, Push used to say that if anyone could spark it, it would be me.
Sometimes I even dream of what would happen if I did. What I'd say and do and how the tension would finally snap and the whole district from the rats in the sewers to the birds in our blackened sky would explode like an old engine.
The music of that stupid video is playing in the background of my daydreams. Elfie looks ridiculous- her outfit is themed like a ladybug, if my hand was just a little bit bigger I could squish her.
She speaks. The words tingle through my flesh before I even realise what they are.
The other girls are turning to look at me. I pretend to be adjusting my hair when really I'm making sure my hearing aid is turned on.
Do I want to throw up or scream or run?
Run. I step out of the crowd and run up onto the stand where I stand beside her, the warm, petrolated wind in my face. For a moment I feel more alive than any other time in my life, but only for a moment. All trains have to crash somewhere and someone just through a brick on my track.
'Let's give it up for Ashrii Black!' She says.
The crowd is silent. They're waiting, with tight fists and aching bones they're waiting for that spark. I'm waiting for them to move, but they don't.
Nothing happens.
My face is on the screen. I look scared and my whole body is trembling no matter how hard I try to stop it. Fifteen years of slavery and now that the time has finally come when the whole world is looking to me- nothing happens.
Maybe I shouldn't have taken so much morphling that morning.
Elfie seems to be waiting too. My outburst set me up for something that never came.
'Do you have anything to say?' She asks.
I stare out at the crowd. There are kids I know are hiding wooden legs under their smooth, new trousers, choked by the pollution, deafened by traffic. I remember watching a little boy lose his arm trying to jump onto one of the moving trains. It'd be his first year, I think. We're a district of patchwork people, jumping on and off trains and planes in hope we'll get the right one and be shipped off to some distant heaven. But we never get the right one.
It's the only phrase that comes out, and it does so in a faint whisper that echoes across the speakers.
'The odds are never in our favour.'
'Well... Things are always liable to change, right!' She laughs awkwardly. 'Now, for the boys.'
Ummm...so it's kinda long... but it was super fun to write!
The crisp morning air greeted me as I closed the door to the rickety, tumble-down shack we called home. Three of my six younger siblings had filed out before me, dressed in their finery for the reaping. Flory first, the twins, Oak and Aspen trailing behind her. It was a long hike to the Justice Building and the reaping began at noon. A path was cut through the leafy giants and towering pines towards the village. Stepping to the front, I smoothed my light green dress, a flowing, knee-length ensemble contrasted by her chin length fiery hair and crystal blue eyes. My siblings chattered nervously behind me as they tramped down the forest trails.
Their parents and other siblings would be along soon, but the four children in our family eligible for the reaping had to be early to be checked in. The process was simple, but I felt she should explain it to her little sister, a slight twelve year old girl with a fiery mop of red hair. As the path widened, the children spread out and I moved closer to Flora.
“Hey Flory,” I said, using a nickname for my little sister, “you nervous?”
“A little.” stumbled Flora, wringing her tiny hands.
“There’s no need. You aren't going to be picked your safe. Your name is only in the reaping ball once. There are thousands upon thousands in that glass ball, but only one has your name.”
“I know. But what if you, Oak, or Aspen get picked?” she mumbled, kicking a pebble up the path with her toe.
“That’s not going to happen Flory. We’re all pretty safe. Anyway, I just wanted to explain the process to you before we get there. First you stand in this really long line. When you get to the front, they’re going to prick your finger and take a little blood, okay?” Her face paled slightly, but she nodded, gripping the hem of her flowery dress. “After that, you just stand with all of your friends from school and wait until they choose two names, okay?” Flora nodded again, a small smile lighting up her beautiful features.
I heard a rustle in the woods behind her. Pausing, I looked to investigate through the trees. A twig snapped just below the brush line, and I stopped to peer under the bushes. A body leapt out of the trees screaming, grabbing me by the waist and lifting me into the air.
Laughing, I yelled, “Put me down Rowan! Put me down!” As he gently set my feet back on the ground, I whipped around to face him. “Damn you Rowan! You scared me to death!”
“I love you too,” he replied with a sly little smile, leaning in towards my face, resting his forehead against mine. Eyes closed, my lips met his. We embraced as our lips pulled apart, resting my head against his collarbone.
“Ewwwww!” screamed my brothers. Flora only smiled.
“Oh, it’s not like you two haven’t kissed girls before, is it?” I questioned them with a withering glance. Their faces turned red, obviously thinking of the twin girls from the village I had seen them holding hands with before. “Yeah, that’s right, what are those girl’s names? Blossom and Petunia?” My twin brother’s faces turned so red, they looked like they were on fire.
“You love torturing them, hmmm?” asked Rowan.
“Oh, more than you know.” We continued walking, Rowan clasping my hand in his. We were a perfect pair, two peas in a pod, inseparable, but most of all, best friends. He held the keys to my heart and I held his.
“So, are you nervous for the reaping?” Rowan asked seriously as we slipped behind the other children.
Biting my lip, I hesitantly replied, red hair covering my eyes. “Maybe a little.” I paused to count how many slips I had in the reaping. “One for each year I’ve been entered, plus all the tessarae I’ve taken to feed my family means that I’ll have approximately forty slips in the glass ball. It’s very likely I could get picked.”
“But you won’t.” said Rowan, kissing my cheek. “You can’t just leave me hanging like that. Plus, that would put our plans for marriage in jeopardy.” Smiling, I rested a head on his shoulder as we walked the rest of the way into the village. Upon arrival, Rowan escorted us to where we would sign in. “I’ll be waiting in the crowd.“ he said, kissing the tippy top of my red hair.
I let go of his hand and lined up my siblings underneath the hot sun. I put the twins, Oak and Aspen, in front of Flory since they had already experienced one reaping. By the time they reached the front of the line, sweat had beaded on my forehead and dripped down my neck. The twins soon joined their friends in the correct pen, eyeing the two female twins from town right away. Flory stepped up to the table.
“Name?” snarled a gruff looking peacekeeper in a stack-white uniform.
“Flora Knoll.” she stuttered timidly.
Scanning a list and making a mark on a paper, the peacekeeper said, “Age?”
Gulping quietly, she murmured inaudibly, “Twelve.”
“Speak up!” growled the peacekeeper. “I can’t hear what you’re saying!”
Taking a deep breath to try and calm down, Flory tried again. “Twelve.”
“For gods sakes girl, I can’t hear you!” he yelled angrily. The peacekeeper stood up, knocking his chair over backwards. Flory screamed in terror and buried her face into my dress as I forced myself to the front of the line.
“Hey! Back off, you capitol freak! No one talks to my sister that way!” I screamed, my face flushing red in frustration. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Rowan pushing through the crowd towards me.
“Where are your manners girl?” The peacekeeper raised an arm menacingly close to his gun handle as he started cursing. I could feel Flory sob hysterically behind me.
“Well back off! You don’t treat her that way!” I started cussing, feeling the adrenaline build up inside my body. My legs bent at the knees slightly, anticipating fight or flight.
At that moment, the head peacekeeper stepped up from behind the table. Placing a calloused hand on the angered man’s arm, he spoke into his ear. “I suggest you leave before you cause anymore damage.”
The peacekeeper appeared chastised and left the area quickly. Another peacekeeper stepped up gently and asked for Flora’s age as she poked her head out from behind me. In that moment I realized the complete silence around. All eyes had turned and were staring at me, mouths hanging open in astonishment. Rowan stood behind me, his face a mixture of emotions.
He mouthed the words, “Are you okay?” I nodded; he winked and waded through the crowd.
I heard a whimper as they pricked Flory’s finger and smeared the blood on a paper. Then they pointed her to the correct pen and she walked off, holding her pointer finger.
I was still watching her go when I heard a voice say “Name?” I answered the questions absentmindedly and they pricked my finger. I couldn’t feel it because of all the adrenaline I still had. Walking to the pen, my legs felt wobbly and the world seemed to spin.
Before I knew it, the reapings had begun. The usual video was shown, but from the years I’ve stood in these pens before, I knew every word. When it finished, I looked at the ground in front of me, praying my siblings and I would be spared for another year. It won’t be me. I thought. Life’s going to be perfect after this reaping. Rowan and I will get married, build a cabin in the woods, and spend time together, just like always. I day-dreamed about what life would be like until I realized for the second time that day, all eyes were on me and it was dead silent.
“Is Birch Knoll in the crowd today? Birch Knoll?”
I felt like I had been punched in the gut. I straightened my shoulders as the weight of reality struggled to pull them down. I was going to the Hunger Games.
As I stepped up onto the podium, I heard several strangled cries from the audience. Searching the crowd, I saw Flory, eyes filled to the brim with tears. Oak and Aspen stood stock-still, their faces just registering what was going on around them. I saw Rowan, standing in the middle of the row, looking up at me, crying. I had never seen him cry before. He says that men don’t cry. He loves me.
Then a boy walks to the stage and we are ushered into a building. My mind is blank. No thoughts, no feelings, no pain. I’m sitting in a small room on an old, dust covered couch when my parents burst through the door, my six younger siblings in tow.
“Birch!” My mother is wringing her hands, my father is pacing the floor, and my siblings are all on the couch sitting on my lap. They are all crowding in my face, hugging me, crying, rubbing snot off their faces with their little fancy dresses and suits. Then they all climb down, line up in order of age. First is my beloved baby sister, a toddler, her beautiful blonde hair all curly and bouncy. She climbs onto my lap, touches my face, and whispers in my ear, “I love you.”
My heart breaks, my soul is ripped into shreds. I am going to die. The rest of them are all a blur, except for Flory. She stands in front of me, in the dress I wore for my first reaping. And all of a sudden, I’m in the past and all I see is tiny snapshots of the world around me at that time. I see the morning of my first reaping, holding hands with my friends, Willow and Mayleaf. The name being called, my mind registering that it’s my dearest friend, my soul sister. Mayleaf being dragged to the stage by peacekeepers as she frantically screams, Willow and I being pushed back by the guards as we desperately try to reach her. Watching her on screen as a career tribute splatters the ground with her brains, cursing the world as I watched her blood helplessly drain into the dirt. A coffin arriving in the district, buried under a pile of dirt. Willow going insane. Walking to her house to check on her, but finding her limp form hanging from a tree branch outside the door. Pain.
All of a sudden, my parents are around me hugging me, and the past has faded. They whisper words of comfort as I’m hysterically crying. All too soon the guards come and drag them all away and I hoarsely scream, “I love you!”
I’m left in silence for a moment and the grandfather clock leaning on the wall ticks away the seconds of my life. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. It chimes the hour.
The door burst open and Rowan rushes to my side. He’s kissing me but I can’t register emotion. Our lips lock, his tongue slides into my mouth, he holds me tight. I feel fragile in his steady grip, as if I might shatter into a million pieces at any moment. Then Rowan pulls his lips away and he’s passing me a trinket.
“A district symbol,” he whispers, running a finger through my hair, “it was going to be your engagement present, but things kinda changed.” He pressed it into my hands with a pained smile. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.” I choked.
In a moment, he’s gone and I’m on a train, clutching the last thing he gave me, this pendant I clasped around my neck. It’s an owl he carved out of birch wood, engraved with our names on the back. A tear falls from my eye and makes the wood sparkle. Then my heart hardens and I know in my mind that I’m never going back. But I might as well give it my best shot. You never know. Maybe the odds will be in my favor during these games.
Ally Ornastell | District 12 | Leaving his home on the train
Normally, a small cut on my finger wouldn’t affect me. In fact, I probably wouldn’t even notice. I never do. It just melts into the background amidst all of the other things that my body feels. Hunger. Pain. Loss. Hate. Envy. All of those things just add onto each other, their added weight being a heavy burden.
Being chosen was just the topping on the cake-even though I had only seen a cake, never eaten any-that turned everything upside down and backwards. My life was officially a disaster. The worst had happened.
The odds were never in my favor.
Watching District 12 fade into the horizon as I stand on the rear car in the train, the feeling of loneliness overwhelms me. I am drowning in it and can’t reach the surface, no matter how frantic I kick my arms and legs, groping for the air.
The girl that was chosen from the district is behind me, sitting in a chair. She looks very dejected, and I know I must mirror that. Something inside me urges me to move towards her, to comfort her. To tell her the ultimate lie, and sooth her. It will be all right. You’ll see.
But in the end, I just turn back to watch the horizon once again. I don’t know her. I don’t care. After being thrust of every circle and everyone’s lives, I became very coarse and unfeeling. No doubt it sound very shallow, but I don’t really care about other people in a way of love. It just doesn’t come to me easily.
Is that going to help me in the Hunger Game or will it be my undoing? Only time will tell. Only time can tell.
For the Games is something that change every year. Not many people from my district have won the games. People don’t speak about the reason, but I can see it in the faces of those around me in District 12.
People have given up. They don’t see nor care about the world or their lives any more. They are pawns and they know it. The capitol has their finger on us, and they steer us about, taking our freedom from us and making us on the same level as dogs. No. Less than dogs, even. I heard rumors from a victor once that the dogs in the capitol lived better lives than we do. It just makes me sick that people could be that uncaring for their fellow man. That they could shove their neighbor into the dust so far as to make them their slaves, while they live in riches.
I turn away from the view of the countryside. The only place in the world that I care about, District 12 is now out of my line of sight.
Something inside tells me that I will never see it again. Normally I would just say that I am being pessimistic, but this isn’t just a matter of eating that day or not. It’s a matter of life and death. And it’s just a deep gut feeling that I have looked at my home for the last time.
Why do I have that feeling?
I am from District 12, the home of the losers. In the past 75 years, we have only had three victors! Three! That means that 1 out of 50 tributes that went to the games from our District actually came out alive. All of the others died in the arena. That is why I have that feeling. District 12 just isn’t a place of winners.
Before I left, people gave me encouraging comments, no doubt trying to lift my spirits. You can beat everyone in the entire district with wrestling, Ally! And these are all kids. You can do this!
Sure… So I could throw someone to the ground and break their arm. Big deal. None of those people had been fighting him with a sword or knife! This was an entirely different ballpark, where those with the widest range of skill came out on top. Those who had the cunning to stay out of the fighting until necessary, unless they were deadly at just about everything, that is.
And that was the problem. The tributes from Districts 1 and 2 were my main opponents. Usually, they volunteered for the games. They were always 18 years old. And they were always, always, extremely dangerous.
Just from watching the games, those so many times before he was chosen, had proven that to him. Those tributes were not to be trifled with. Even the girls were extremely dangerous. No, especially the girls, because most of the time, they didn’t look it as much as the boys did. And then time proved that they were the victors. Many cases it turned out that way, and the boy from their own district would fall by their hands.
I am not there to rush into a fight recklessly, although I am not afraid of finishing one off. But one question remained. Sure, I won't have a problem fighting someone and pinning him or her down to the ground. But will I be able to kill them? Will I be able to take someone else’s life?
Only time would prove that, as well. Deep inside, I know he could do it. Yes, it would be hard. And there would be that moment of hesitation the first time, and then the guilt afterwards. But when it came to the wire, when it means my life or the attacking tribute, I will kill.
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