"Valiant!" an old lady called my name. She sounded like a crow. Why she always calls my name, I will never know. I don't even know her. The dirt path that I always walk out to the fields of grain after school always leads me to run into her. As always, I walk past her, completely ignoring her calls. She never runs out to the street to meet me. She just calls from her porch.
I walk all the way out to the fields. A man in his early forties was at the edge of the field. His long black hair pulled back into a ponytail that flowed down his back. He turned his face towards me, acknowledging that I was there. "Looking for someone?" he asked me.
"I'm looking for Rodney or Dimitri Rolin," I said. He pointed down a row of grain to his left.
"Rodney's down that way. Watch your feet, kid." I nod in thanks to him and run down the row. It wasn't long before I reached him. My father's short brown hair shown in the sunlight. His tan skin glistened from sweat of a hard day's work. He obviously heard me coming, for his brown eyes were already watching me. I stopped a couple feet of where he was working.
"How was school today?" he asked, smiling at me.
"It was okay. We talked about harvest times today," I replied.
"Good. Would you like to put what you've been learning into practice?" My father handed me a spool of rope to gather and tie the grain. I quickly grabbed the spool out of his hands and started grabbing up the grain stalks off the ground.
Within an hour, I had gathered enough grain to tie up and take back to a peacekeeper truck. I threw my bunch into the truck and started walking back when I noticed an older man struggling to tie his bunch. I quickly ran over to him and tied the bunch up for him.
"Thank you," he said. I looked at him and noticed his dim brown eyes were tired. Many wrinkles on his faced showed many years of wisdom. The scars on his hands showed years of work. "How did you learn to tied such tight, quick knots?" He examined my work.
"My father taught me. It sort of became my hobby," I replied. "Would you like help getting this into the truck?" The man nodded at my offer. The two of us carried his bunch over to the truck and threw it in. A boy a little older than me with curly, dark brown hair jogged over to us. He was very tall, about 6 foot, and slightly muscular. The boy looked familiar to me. I probably have seen him around the square. I just couldn't place where.
"Grandfather, are you ready to go?" he asked.
"One second," the old man replied. He turned his attention towards me. "What's your name, sweetie?"
"Valiant Rolin," I replied. I held my hand out towards him. He stuck his hand in mine and shook it.
"Mathius Corr." He, then, motioned towards the boy. "This is my grandson, Jeremy." Jeremy reached his hand towards mine. We shook hands.
"Nice to meet you, Valiant," Jeremy said.
"Nice to meet you, too," I said back.
"Grandfather, we need to go now."
"Yes, of course. Well it was nice meeting you, Valiant. Thank you again for your help," Mathius said. The two walked off, leaving me there. A peacekeeper in his clean white uniform walked up to me.
"You must go to the square for a Capital announcement," the peacekeeper ordered. At first, I wanted to tell the man no, but that would just start an outrage that will ultimately lead to my death, so I just do what he says. I walk to the square with the rest of the field workers, not seeing my dad or my brother anywhere. I find one of the shop porches to stand on. Everyone crowded into the square, trying to find their family members, waiting for the bad news the Capital is sure to announce. My hands start to fumble around in my pocket for a string to tie in knots.
"Nervous?" I hear a familiar voice say. I turn to find my brother, Dimitri, behind me. He places his strong, rough hands on my shoulders.
"Attention!" the squeaky voice of our District 9 mayor yelled over the speaker system. The nervous chatter of the crowds stopped, cresting an eerie silence that always seems to be at these events. "Welcome! Now, an announcement from our wonderful leader, President Morrow."
The video screen came to life as the Capital anthem played. The face of the black haired, weasel-looking President Morrow was larger than life on the screen. "Good," I thought. "His face now matches his ego."
"Citizens of Panem," he began. "We have a great new celebration of the Capital's victory coming. Yet, we need your help. All children between the ages of twelve and eighteen must register at your district Justice Building. All who do not register will be severely punished. Have a wonderful day." And like that, the message was sent. The screen went dark after the anthem was finished playing. The people bustled with chatter. Children started to move towards the Justice Building. I jump off the porch and start walking towards the building as well.
"Where are you going?" my brother called after me. I turn back to face him.
"I have to register. I don't want to cause any more trouble than we're already in." I called back. I ran off into the crowd, thinking that something must be behind this. There is a reason they are making us do this, I just haven't figured it out yet. Not yet...
I walk all the way out to the fields. A man in his early forties was at the edge of the field. His long black hair pulled back into a ponytail that flowed down his back. He turned his face towards me, acknowledging that I was there. "Looking for someone?" he asked me.
"I'm looking for Rodney or Dimitri Rolin," I said. He pointed down a row of grain to his left.
"Rodney's down that way. Watch your feet, kid." I nod in thanks to him and run down the row. It wasn't long before I reached him. My father's short brown hair shown in the sunlight. His tan skin glistened from sweat of a hard day's work. He obviously heard me coming, for his brown eyes were already watching me. I stopped a couple feet of where he was working.
"How was school today?" he asked, smiling at me.
"It was okay. We talked about harvest times today," I replied.
"Good. Would you like to put what you've been learning into practice?" My father handed me a spool of rope to gather and tie the grain. I quickly grabbed the spool out of his hands and started grabbing up the grain stalks off the ground.
Within an hour, I had gathered enough grain to tie up and take back to a peacekeeper truck. I threw my bunch into the truck and started walking back when I noticed an older man struggling to tie his bunch. I quickly ran over to him and tied the bunch up for him.
"Thank you," he said. I looked at him and noticed his dim brown eyes were tired. Many wrinkles on his faced showed many years of wisdom. The scars on his hands showed years of work. "How did you learn to tied such tight, quick knots?" He examined my work.
"My father taught me. It sort of became my hobby," I replied. "Would you like help getting this into the truck?" The man nodded at my offer. The two of us carried his bunch over to the truck and threw it in. A boy a little older than me with curly, dark brown hair jogged over to us. He was very tall, about 6 foot, and slightly muscular. The boy looked familiar to me. I probably have seen him around the square. I just couldn't place where.
"Grandfather, are you ready to go?" he asked.
"One second," the old man replied. He turned his attention towards me. "What's your name, sweetie?"
"Valiant Rolin," I replied. I held my hand out towards him. He stuck his hand in mine and shook it.
"Mathius Corr." He, then, motioned towards the boy. "This is my grandson, Jeremy." Jeremy reached his hand towards mine. We shook hands.
"Nice to meet you, Valiant," Jeremy said.
"Nice to meet you, too," I said back.
"Grandfather, we need to go now."
"Yes, of course. Well it was nice meeting you, Valiant. Thank you again for your help," Mathius said. The two walked off, leaving me there. A peacekeeper in his clean white uniform walked up to me.
"You must go to the square for a Capital announcement," the peacekeeper ordered. At first, I wanted to tell the man no, but that would just start an outrage that will ultimately lead to my death, so I just do what he says. I walk to the square with the rest of the field workers, not seeing my dad or my brother anywhere. I find one of the shop porches to stand on. Everyone crowded into the square, trying to find their family members, waiting for the bad news the Capital is sure to announce. My hands start to fumble around in my pocket for a string to tie in knots.
"Nervous?" I hear a familiar voice say. I turn to find my brother, Dimitri, behind me. He places his strong, rough hands on my shoulders.
"Attention!" the squeaky voice of our District 9 mayor yelled over the speaker system. The nervous chatter of the crowds stopped, cresting an eerie silence that always seems to be at these events. "Welcome! Now, an announcement from our wonderful leader, President Morrow."
The video screen came to life as the Capital anthem played. The face of the black haired, weasel-looking President Morrow was larger than life on the screen. "Good," I thought. "His face now matches his ego."
"Citizens of Panem," he began. "We have a great new celebration of the Capital's victory coming. Yet, we need your help. All children between the ages of twelve and eighteen must register at your district Justice Building. All who do not register will be severely punished. Have a wonderful day." And like that, the message was sent. The screen went dark after the anthem was finished playing. The people bustled with chatter. Children started to move towards the Justice Building. I jump off the porch and start walking towards the building as well.
"Where are you going?" my brother called after me. I turn back to face him.
"I have to register. I don't want to cause any more trouble than we're already in." I called back. I ran off into the crowd, thinking that something must be behind this. There is a reason they are making us do this, I just haven't figured it out yet. Not yet...