Ciara stood by the other sixteen-year-olds with her weight favoring her right leg. She appeared to be entirely unaware of what was going on. The square of District 1 was packed with people, but she stood still, casually observing her nails. She lifted her hand from her left hip and shifted her weight back to equilibrium. She rubbed at a hard edge with the thumb of her opposite hand until it smoothed out and blended into the rest of her nail. Satisfied with her quick self-manicure, she pulled a little mirror out of her back pocket and glanced at herself.
Reflected back at her was a bored expression. She blinked her rich brown eyes once, smiling a little bit. Her long dark brown hair was put up in a smart straight ponytail that sat high on her head. She worked a few strands out to frame her face. She twisted the strands around her fingers a couple of times before flashing the mirror a charming smile and snapping it shut.
A murmur rippled through the crowd as a tall woman with striking red hair took the stage. Her silver dress flashed in the sunlight, her short heels clicking smartly as she headed for the orbs full of the names of all those eligible for the Hunger Games. Ciara lifted her head to admire the dress. It fell just past the middle of the woman's thighs. The neck was wide, with sleeves that came almost to the elbow. It was very form-fitting, and it made the woman's hair appear all the more red and her eyes all the more green.
The microphone squealed slightly as she lifted it from the stand. "Good morning, District 1!" the woman chirped. The enthusiasm sounded forced. Her eyes were detached and emotionless. "I am Alexandrite Enestem, as you all know. Welcome to the first reaping of the 238th Hunger Games! As always, ladies come first," she sang, reaching towards the sphere full of girl names.
Ciara watched all this with the same bored expression. She totally couldn't wait for this to be over so she could go home and fix the chip in her magenta nail polish. Nonetheless, her eyes followed the hand of Alexandrite as the woman reached in and pulled out a slip of paper.
"Your female tribute will be Ciara Westbrook," she announced.
"I volunteer!" a voice cried out from the crowd.
At this point, Ciara was already standing beside Alexandrite. The Escort dwarfed her, but the teenager didn't notice.
"Excuse me," she drawled, raising her eyebrows at the older girl waving her arms in the crowd. "I didn't ask for pity." She smirked as the crowd reacted, a mix of gasps and applause.
Alexandrite shrugged at the girl in the crowd. "Not this year, doll," she said, turning back to Ciara. "Welcome to the Hunger Games," she told the girl. "Now on to the boys!"
Ciara stopped paying attention. Wouldn't it be funny, she thought, if they reaped one of my brothers? That'd be something I would watch. I'd hate to have to kill one of them, though, she mused, not even considering the possibility of one of them killing her. The loud voice of Alexandrite drew her out of her thoughts.
"Your male tribute will be Conner Doherty."
Conner Doherty, fifteen. Ciara sort of knew him. He was pretty quiet, and totally not her type. She watched as the short boy with the sandy brown hair and freckles made his way to the stage. His milk chocolate colored eyes looked a little afraid, but no one wanted to volunteer after Ciara's outburst.
"No volunteers?" Alexandrite inquired. "Then that is all settled, is it not? Have a nice day, and may the odds be ever in your favor," she concluded before turning to Ciara and Conner.
"You will be given a bit of time with your families," she said coldly. "Then I'll be escorting you to the Capitol." A duo of peacekeepers came up and grabbed one tribute each.
"Watch the arm," Ciara warned the peacekeeper. "I rather like this shirt; I don't want wrinkles or dirt on it." The bewildered peacekeeper loosened his grip on her arm and then released it. Ciara flashed him a smile and entered the building the other peacekeeper had led Conner into. She spotted her two older brothers and her father standing there. She meandered over to them, but she didn't look at them. To be honest, she was pretty glad she was leaving. She wasn't a big fan of her family.
Her dad watched her for a few minutes as she stood before him and her brothers. Finally, he sighed. "Why didn't you let that God damn volunteer take your place, Ciara?" he questioned.
Raising an eyebrow, Ciara put a hand on her hip. "Because I'm the best girl there is, and I can't let anyone steal my glory," she declared pompously.
"Idiot," one of her brother's murmured. The other nodded.
The family stood in silence for the rest of the time. Ciara watched the short boy, Conner, hold on to his equally short mother who was sobbing into his shoulder. I'm glad my family isn't so sappy and lame, she thought to herself. The peacekeepers reentered the room. Ciara's family left willingly, waving at the only female left in the family. They had to pry Mrs. Doherty from her son, though. She finally let go with an ear-splitting cry. Ciara could see that Conner had a few tears in his eyes as well.
"Come on, you two. It's time to get to the train and meet your mentors," Alexandrite commanded. Ciara rolled her eyes at the command, following slowly just to annoy the escort. Conner followed after the red-haired woman with quick, dutiful steps. Ciara couldn't read his mind, but she was pretty sure he was sad. He was probably thinking about how he'd never come back.
Because Ciara was going to be the victor of these games. Because she was the coolest.
Thane smiled weakly at his parents from his spot with all the other eighteen-year-olds. His stomach twisted in on itself. He flexed his bare feet against the hot stones of the square. He didn't feel the heat because of the calluses that had formed on his feet from eighteen years of walking barefoot.
If Thane had no family, he would not be worried. Maybe he'd even be excited. But he had his parents to worry about. He doubted that they would survive if he was forced to go to the Games. He was the one who cooked for them and dealt with getting money for them to buy food. They had lost the will to do much of anything after Thane's younger brother died in the games four years ago. If Thane had to go to, they wouldn't be able to care for themselves.
The boy was distracted from his thoughts by the woman in a tight silver dress that had appeared before the District 2 crowd. Her hair was an eye-catching bright pink color, and her eyes were the same dazzling silver color as her dress. Thane had always been curious about Capitol surgeries. He didn't understand why people desired to change their hair and eye color, and sometimes even their skin.
He was brought away from his thoughts once more as the woman began to speak. "The 238th Hunger Games is upon us, dear District 2," the woman declared, posing suggestively. "My name is Morganite Enestem, and I'll be the escort for your two tributes," she said with a little giggle. "So, ladies first!" she proclaimed with a grin.
The knot in Thane's stomach clenched tighter and tighter as he watched Morganite reach for the container with all the names of the girls. His moment of doom was drawing nearer. It would only be a minute or so until the male tribute was selected.
"Your female tribute will be Anja Nadezhda," Morganite said slowly, stumbling over the foreign name. Thane heard Anja's famous huff as she made her way up to the front of the crowd.
"It's pronounced like Anya," she sighed. Thane could almost hear Anja saying 'dumbass' afterwards. "And my last name is Nah-de-zhe-dah, not Nay-dah-za-dah," she added.
Morganite rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she said coldly. It was obvious that she felt threatened by Anja's porcelain-doll appearance. All the boys in the District had been in love with Anja at one time or another in their life. Her dark brown hair full of thick curls entranced them. Her playful dark blue eyes enchanted them. Her pale and clear skin attracted them. She was perfect in every sense, and she was a complete flirt. Thane had liked her when he was fifteen and she was fourteen. He had long since gotten over that, as her flirtatious personality bothered him nowadays.
Again, Thane had to be yanked from his thoughts. "Thane Absolum! Where is Thane Absolum?" Morganite was calling into the crowd.
No.
No, it can't be me, Thane thought wildly. His legs carried him towards Morganite and Anja against his will. Mom and dad will die without me. I have to stay. They can't lose another son. It'll kill them. I can't do this. I can't go.
Thane was standing beside Anja now. He stared out at the crowd, trying to keep his eyes away from his parents. He could hear his mother sobbing, and he didn't know how he could face her anymore. He only had a few minutes left with her before he was led to his death, but he was dreading those few minutes out of shame.
It's my fault I was reaped. I'm a terrible son.
"See you next year, District 2! Make sure to tune in to watch the reapings of the other Districts and everything that comes afterwards, and may the odds be ever in your favor."
Thane watched as his parents were taken by a peacekeeper and towed in his direction. Another peacekeeper appeared at his side and steered him into the District hall. Thane didn't object. He watched it happen every year. Those who resisted only got burned.
Once inside, Thane opened his arms to his sobbing mother. His father was not crying. He was not doing much of anything. After the death of Thane's little brother, his father became emotionally detached. He became a zombie, living his life without noticing it. But now he folded into Thane's arms, hugging his son firmly.
"Come back," the man whispered into his son's shoulder.
Tears in his eyes, Thane nodded. "I will. For you. For mom. For Lance."
The family grew silent at the name of their fallen son. Thane's mother sobbed harder into Thane's neck. His father pulled away, patting his son on the shoulder. Thane watched Anja hug her father. He felt like he was intruding, so he quickly averted his eyes.
"It's time to go," a peacekeeper said gruffly from behind. Thane gently detached his mother from him. He pushed her into her husband's arms. The peacekeeper pulled them away, followed by another peacekeeper with Anja's dad.
Morganite sparkled into the room. "Come, come you two!" she called. "We're off to the train."