* The 100th Hunger Games...this is gonna be a big one. And Marisse is pretty sure she's going to die. Huh. Well, at least stupid, arrogant, ANNOYING Derrick will die with her. Sort of goes along with the Hunger Games' actual events, but a little different. *
1—Broken
"I—I didn't! No, I swear!" I thrashed against the hard grip of the baker, the old loaf falling to the ground as he rips me away from it.
"Aye, ya did, ya little beggar! Ya stole it from me, ya thief!" His rough voice grates against my eardrums and he drops me to the ground, the edge of my ribbon catching on something—I don't know what—and untying from my head. My unruly black curls fall into my face, and I start to panic as I can't see.
"I didn't!" I still protest, pushing my hair away from my face.
"Ya did, I saw ya!" The baker grabs a broom nearby and raises it. I cringe back against the glass case of bread and prepare for what will most likely be a rough impact.
"Dad, don't!" I suddenly hear a cry—the voice cracks at the end, and I stifle a laugh as I already know that whoever said it is a boy, and he's a teenager.
I open my eyes and see a boy with sandy curls and bright, glittering blue eyes gripping the broom with a strong, muscled arm. His sympathetic eyes fall on my own, which are the same blue as his. But I'm sure mine aren't nearly as magnificent.
I take this moment of hesitation from the baker to scramble up and sprint out the front door.
"Now look, she got away, ya useless boy!" I heard a sharp crack as the broom came down hard on the boy, and I cringed. I'm sorry, baker boy, I thought, letting a single tear come down my cheek.
***
That was three years ago. I was a mere twelve years old, too naive to realize that Derrick wasn't actually my savior...more like my own personal annoyance.
He would never let me forget that stupid, stupid day in the bakery. Every day on the streets, if I walked by, he'd flash me a toothy grin and say, "You're welcome, thief." Do you know how many times I've nearly decked him in the face?
"You're welcome, thief," I hear a familiar voice say as I pay the vegetable seller for my bag of produce. I turn, a glare at the ready.
"I have a name, you know. It's Marisse," I hissed. He gave me a smirk.
"But 'Thief' just suits you so much better. Goes with your face." He gives me a light tap on the cheek with two fingers. My hand shoots up as I grab his two fingers and squeeze as tightly as I can. I smile in satisfaction as I see just the slightest bit of pain in his endless eyes. Derrick rips his fingers away and flexes them, simmering with a fresh glare.
"So what was that about faces?" I said smugly.
"I was saying yours would be nice if you took care of it," Derrick seethed. "You've got zits all over it. Take some pride, will you?" And with that he turned on his heel and marched away. My mouth fell open and I turned, leaning over the nearest barrel of water.
In my reflection I saw a girl of fifteen, with blue eyes and what could be pretty hair if she'd kept it neat. She had an okay face, although she was beginning to get frown lines. She had a freckle on the outer corner of her left eye and a scar just above her right eyebrow from when she fell out of a tree when she was eight.
I only saw one small zit on my chin, barely noticeable.
Do you know how much I hate him?
***
"There's only one person who could understand what I'm saying. She's here, now, with me. And there's not a place in the world I'd rather be. I take her hand and try not to fall over in excitement and joy and euphoria. Glancing up at the stars that twinkle like her eyes—a corny line if there ever was one—I realize something....There's morning dew on the night sky; I stare in wonder at this feat, and soon my troubles are forgotten."
—from Derrick Hannigan's notebook
***
It's the eve of the reaping. Perhaps that's why Derrick was so snippy.
I carry the vegetables home to our small farm on the outer edge of District Twelve. It's not much, just a few chickens, a cow, two horses, and a mule. A tiny vegetable garden (one that obviously doesn't work) is withering in the back yard.
I set the vegetables on the front porch and open my arms as I hear Donica's feet. She leaps into my waiting arms and I smile at her, trying not to get a mouthful of her wild brown curls. My sister is only five, and isn't in the drawing for another few years. This I can be thankful for.
My brother, Erric, comes in the doorway and leans against the side of it, crossing his arms and glaring at me.
"Marisse," he said quietly, "I need to talk to you." His dark green eyes warn me to not bring anything up in front of Donica.
"Um, sure." I put Donica down. "Why don't you go bring in the vegetables for me?" I ask her. She nods and brings them in, knowing that we need to talk alone. She may be just five, but she's quite smart.
Erric and I go to the place where we usually talk—the loft just above our tiny barn. I settle myself on the familiar horse blanket lying near the bales of hay. My brother looks at me angrily, picking up a piece of straw and ripping it apart.
"I can't believe you," he said angrily. He looks at me, his eyes furious. "You took out tesserae?"
My cheeks turned red and I looked at the floor, knowing my secret had been revealed.
"How did you find out?" I said quietly.
"Derrick told me." Erric looked at me pointedly. I jerked my head up, my cheeks still red, but in anger.
"Only two...how does he know?" I shouted furiously.
"He saw you down at the office," Erric said distractedly, "But that isn't the point. You're so stupid!"
"For what?" I shouted, getting up, "For realizing that we're nearly out of money? ThatDonica has been wearing dresses that haven't fit her for years? That your boots are nearly falling apart, or that this damn barn and this damn house are a few moments away from being damn piles of toothpicks?!" I stood, fuming, as my brother looked up at me. He got up and faced me, his eyes softening a bit.
"I knew all that," he said angrily. "You don't think I noticed? You should have let me take them out—it's my last year and they won't accumulate next year, dummy!"
I stare furiously at my brother for a moment, thinking of things to say; stuff to counteract with. But there was nothing. Erric was right.
"I'm sorry," I said quietly, "I didn't think of that, but..." I sighed, "I just wanted to help."
Erric smiled at me weakly. "I know. But you seriously should have come to me first, 'Risse," he said, using my nickname.
"I know." I quietly kept my eyes on the floor. My brother pulled me into a hug and I turned my face into his shirt, trying not to cry. "I messed up," I said.
"Yeah," Erric said.
"Really bad," I added.
"Mhm," he agreed. "But you thought you were doing the right thing. Which doesn't make it nearly as bad."
I shut my eyes for a moment, and for a second, I was ten years old again, my older brother comforting me for doing something silly like falling out of a tree or eating a bug. Why couldn't things be like that again? Simple, easy to understand, blissfully ignorant...but I was a woman now. And whether I liked it or not, my mistakes were my mistakes. I couldn't blame my parents or my brother anymore.
It really, really sucks.
"Oh, I got your present," Erric said, stepping back and fishing into his pocket. He pulled out a silver locket, the edges of the little silver heart outlined in gold. Clumsily, he managed to get it open.
"Erric," I said breathlessly, "Its beautiful!" I saw my brother turn red.
"It's really nothing..."
"I'll go get yours! Hang on!" I said, excited. I jumped down onto the stack of hay and leaped onto the dirt. I ran inside quickly and fished out a small leather sack from under my bed. I ran back to the barn as fast as I could and thrust the sack into his hands.
"Whoa, what is it, it's heavy," Erric said, weighing it in his hands.
"Open it," I said, smiling.
I saw Erric's eyes light up as he opened the bag.
"Where in God's name did you get a camera?" Erric grinned at me.
"I called in a favor from Aunt Kharin. She even knows a guy on West Street who will print them for you really cheap." I smiled.
"But how did you know—"
"I see the way you stop and take in a moment. Why not keep it forever?" I said, smiling at how excited he was.
"Well, I know what picture's going in first." Erric stood beside me and extended his arm. "Smile!" He pressed down on the button as I grinned, and the flash nearly burst my eyes.
"Ow, hey!" I said, covering my eyes with my hands.
"Oh, stop being such a baby," he said, turning the camera to look at it.
***
Erric spent the rest of the day taking pictures of all of us, and somehow managed to figure out the camera's timer so we could get a picture of all of us together. I curled up in my bed that night with a warm feeling in my stomach. These were the most extravagant gifts we'd ever exchanged for the reaping.
And if only I'd known it would be my last.