The girl has become hysterical. Her sobs are uncontrollable and she has to be dragged off the stage. A women whisper to her husband, "You could train all your life for this and still never be mentally prepared, you know."
"She probably just doesn't want to die." He replies.
Men sit around a table, laughing and watching the TV.
"No way, District 4 is in way better shape this year." One says.
"I bet ten on District 11, that boy looks mighty promising."
"Hey, guys, what if District 12 wins this year?" They all laugh at this ridiculous notion. Other conversations carried on, many incomprehensible for such a young girl. A big man with puffy lips and white hair booms a speech for all of Panem to hear. These are the earliest memories Mulan has of the Reaping.
The Reaping was the day the district would get to pick names out of a bowl, so that two lucky individuals would get to participate in a game. The Hunger Games, they were called. A game set up by the heads of the country, the Capitol. Two children from each of the twelve districts, one boy and one girl, sent off to be tributes as punishment for a rebellion that happened way too long ago and only one out of them all would return as a victor. The rest would die in an arena designed for slaughter among children ages 12 to 17. It is a vicious game but apart of society. It is a necessary cog to keep the gears of Panem moving.
Now the day has come again and is the last Mulan would have to worry about. She was finally 17. After this time, she would no longer have to stress about her name being picked, not that she worried much in the first place. The odds were in her favor, there was always slim chance she would be picked. The Reaping doesn't mean much to Mulan. Even if she were to be picked, there would be someone eager to volunteer in her place and she learned from her closest friend, Philip, how to swordfight if it happened to be an off year. It's been a good year. Mulan felt that everything would be fine. She wondered if she should even bother to go. What could possibly go wrong? Mulan embraces the sunlight as she leaves her house to go find her friends.
Philip flicks the bill of Mulan's cap as they relaxed around the flowery field near the base of the mountain. "So," he says, "It seems that this is the year where boys and girls are finally near fifty-fifty now. The odd are no longer in our favor. Are you ready for your last reaping, Mulan? Or should I call you Ping?"
That's right…Today she wasn't Mulan, she was Ping. For the longest time, District 2 experienced a strange phenomenon where there were a large amount of male births. Soon it became a blessing to have a boy because the skewed population size meant a very low chance of having your son get picked. When Mulan was born, her parents took a risk and changed her birth certificate to indicate that she was a boy. It was an open secret in District 2. Since her father, a doctor, had saved so many peacekeepers' lives, they weren't willing to turn him in. In return, peacekeepers became her father's top priority. He even gave out some "free samples" every once in a while. Within the last year or two, however, girls have started to catch up and by next year it wouldn't matter what gender your child was. Mulan was truly lucky.
Mulan grunts at Philip in response and tucks her loose long hairs back into her hat. Just then, a pair of arms wraps around Mulan's waist and sweet voice purred, "My, my, Ping, what a fine young man you've grown up to be. I wonder who's the lucky girl you're going to court." The girl behind Mulan giggles and Philip can't help but snicker. It was an open secret and an inside joke for District 2. On the day of the Reaping, Ping existed and Mulan didn't.
"Wouldn't you like to know, Aurora?" Mulan teases as she lightly pulls away from her to get a better look at her friend. How long had Mulan known these two? Mulan couldn't remember a day before the mayor's daughter and the boy next door. She could never imagine how she lived when they weren't by her side, laughing and joking. Mulan takes a moment to admire her closest friends. Philip has his dopey smile as always as he talks to Aurora. Aurora is sitting on a rock, playing with the flowers as she listens to Philip. She smiles and nods occasionally and what a smile she has, Mulan thinks, it's as bright as her auburn hair in the sunlight. It was mesmerizing hair that Mulan has caught herself looking at countless of times. Perhaps she was jealous of Aurora's precious locks because she had nothing but these dead black strands to work with. There were many parts of Aurora that Mulan could be envious of. The shape of her eyebrows, her smooth jaw line, the way her beautiful eyes could light up even the darkest of days. It was a surprise that she wasn't being constantly bothered by suitors but perhaps Philip's presence had something to do with it. Mulan now notices the few quick, shy glances between the two and feels a heat at the pit of her stomach. She wonders what happens when she's not around but she puts those thoughts aside because today had different demands.
"Who do you think will get picked today?" Aurora asks as she looks over the flower she just picked.
"It doesn't make a difference to you, does it? They would never send the mayor's daughter." Philip replies.
"You really think that they would rig the reaping like that?"
"No, I'm saying someone would volunteer."
"I'm not too sure about that. They seemed particularly watchful on the Careers this year." Mulan points out as she sits next to Aurora.
District 2 was one of the "Career Districts" as they were deemed. Children who were almost bred for the games, the games of murder and mayhem, a few select group of children who would prepare nearly every moment for this special occasion. They weren't allowed to do so, of course, it wouldn't have been fair to the less privileged districts. It was another open secret of District 2 that law enforcement chose to help keep. However, this year the peacekeepers seemed to disband the illegal preparation for the games. It was possible that the president, Snow, wanted to shake things up this year. The peacekeepers know who've been trying to train this year and it was a good bet that the careers wouldn't volunteer to take the place whoever was chosen for their own family's safety.
Aurora sighs as she twirls the flower in her fingers, "You'd think they'd stop the games by now. I think we all got the point."
"But you forget it's suppose to be a constant reminder. Besides what would those citizens of the Capitol do without us to entertain them?" Philip corrects in a mocking tone.
"Probably more plastic surgery." Mulan smirks. The citizens of the Capitol were very strange folk, at least to Mulan. They had brightly colored hair and skin. They had tight faces that looked almost like plastic. Mulan had seen them pass by her house occasionally. District 2 was visited many times by these citizens because of how closely located it was to the Capitol. The district's relationship and loyalty also contributed to the Capitol's occasional patronage.
Aurora concentrates on her flower, trying to hide her frustration. Out of the three of them, she was the one who hated the Hunger Games the most. People die in those games, people with friends and family, people she knew. Mulan and Philip always try their best to not let it get to them because there was no point in getting upset. Still, they always find Aurora's displeasure seeping out during Reaping Day. It was silent for awhile. They took the moment to enjoy the nature that surrounds them while Aurora calms herself. Philip is the first to leave. He seems almost excited for the reaping. Mulan could see why, it wasn't just her last year but it was for all of them.
"Well, Aurora this is our last chance…" Mulan utters as she stands.
"Mulan...?" Aurora calls to her as she grab's Mulan's sleeve. She stands and looks carefully into Mulan's eyes as if she wants to confess something. Instead, she just gives a smile that tries to suppress a worried look.
"Don't worry," Mulan says, "The odds are in our favor today."
They head down to the square where everyone else is gathered. There a special stage is set up for the Reaping. There are two large bowls on display, each filled with the countless amounts of names of the District 2 children. You could tell which bowl belongs to the boys because it noticeably had more of the white sheets of paper. In between the two Reaping Balls stands the official District 2 "escort". Each district had one and they seemed to be more like ambassadors from the Capitol. They helped along the process of the Hunger Games. District 2's escort was called Schnee Alabaster. She is short but thin. She seemed to have stained her skin white and her lips were unnaturally red, like she constantly drank blood. Her hair is as black as ebony and looks just as hard. Actually, she looks like some kind of sickly snow monster that came from a top the mountains. Mulan will never get use to her looks. She just could never understand. Mulan and Aurora separate. Mulan stands with the boy, while Aurora with the girls. Mulan impatiently taps her foot through Schnee's introduction and President Snow's speech. Finally, Schnee announces that she will pick this year's tributes and she starts with the girls.
"Ladies first." She says.
She hobbles over in what seem to be hideous yellow clogs that clunk against the stage towards the bowl with the fewer names. She waves her hand over the bowl, to cause anticipation and excitement. Though the reality was, for Mulan, that it was just dragging on an event she was way beyond ready to be over with. After what seems like forever, she finally plunges her hand into the bowl and after a few mixes of the slips, she pulls one out. As if she had just plucked a delicate fluff from the air, she presents the slip to the crowd. She then unfolds the paper. She clears her throat as she speaks the name of the female tribute into the microphone. She calls Aurora's name. The peacekeepers quickly get her and direct her to her position. Aurora stands on the stage, clenching her jaw, doing her best not to cry. She refuses to give anyone that pleasure.
No one says a thing when Aurora is picked. No wife muttering to her husband. No one taking bets. Aurora was almost a treasure, she was someone everyone loved. There seemed to be a state of shock. No one seemed to have even fathomed the idea that she would be the tribute. Nobody anticipated this would happen and while being so caught off guard no one was able to volunteer for her. If Mulan existed today and not Ping, her hand would shoot up in a second, but she couldn't. She couldn't risk her family in that way. There everyone stood in silence as the escort moves on to the other bowl to pick the boy.
People were recovering and a slight ease was returning to the crowd. Schnee whirls her hand in the bowl a few times before she picked up the small slit of paper that would seal a poor boy's fate. Mulan couldn't focus on that, she was still stuck on Aurora. She had to do something. She had to protect her. She cared too much for her to let her go to that horrid area but what could she do now? She doesn't really think. Schnee barely says the name "Philip" and Mulan already has her hand up in the air. Mulan yells, "I volunteer." She figures if she couldn't save Aurora from the games then she could at least do her best to ensure her survival. Her parent's couldn't rat her out. No one in District 2 was willing to reveal Mulan's secret. Not in front of Snow's face, not with Mulan's entire family's life on the line. After her words, the only thing Mulan could hear was her heart pound in her ears. She doesn't even hear Philip's screams or her family's cries as she is brought up to the stage. She just see's Aurora's face, finally letting the tears she so desperately tried to hold in fall. Even though many trained for this day, no one ever really wants to be in these games. No child ever wants to die.
Mulan sits in the room where they let the tributes say goodbye to their friends and family. She puts her hands on her head and stares at the ground. What was she thinking? She didn't have to do that. Philip would've protected Aurora just fine, wouldn't he? No, he wouldn't. He has his own loved ones to think about. It was better this way. At least Mulan could assure that Aurora would be safe, that she would win. She wasn't ready for her family's reaction, though-their sadness and confusion. She definitely wasn't ready for Philip. She knew he would be the first one to burst in here. He would start yelling at her, demanding what she was thinking. Of course, Mulan would respond about how she wasn't thinking, she just reacted.
Mulan can't look her parents in the eye. Her mother cries uncontrollably and her father yells so loud that the peacekeepers drag him out. Her brother doesn't say much other than he'll watch over their dog. Only her grandmother seems to understand, maybe more than Mulan understood herself, because all she does is gently puts a hand on her shoulder and gives her a look that says that her family will one day forgive her. Mulan does her best to cry it all out between visits. She gets a few teachers and a few classmates. Philip is the last to visit. When he enters, Mulan flinches but he doesn't say a word. He just sits there, staring at the ground until his time is up and he keeps quiet when he leaves. Mulan is drained after all of this. She had made a mistake. She realizes that as she watches a mockingjay fly by the window.