Class Seven

Panda13216

The dust filled my lungs. The world around me was spinning, as if the universe was attempting to be a top. I felt the floor under my finger tips. It was cold and ragged, just like it was years ago. The year my older sister was picked for the Fandom Games and never returned. It's not like I knew her well, but it still hurt. She was picked in the worst fandom to be in, Sherlock, which isn't very good in it's, weaponry.

I could see it happening. They would pick me. I can't hunt, nor can I kill. Carol can do that way better than me. I know, for the reason she's the only victor we have, and she one with Jack Frost. It's not the worst fandom, yet I wouldn't consider it the 'best'.

My dirt caked nail caught on the rusty nail I slammed crooked the weeks before. I certainly have some strength for being in the lower classes of the city. Any other way I'm 6'2, and weigh only 90 pounds. An easy kill for anyone.

I was woken from my haze when my younger sister grabbed the back of my stained T-Shirt. She attempted to pull me up, but I remained on the floor. Today was the reaping, and I completely refused to go. I needed to trade the Whovians later.

I pull upwards and the world is still practicing it's ballet. I swayed as I opened our door, leading to the gravel streets. I felt a fistful of my shirt get pulled behind me. I turned around to see my little sister with tears pooling into her blue eyes. She was only nine, so not eligible for the reaping. She had beautiful blond hair and resembled me in no way. Every year she gets nervous, and it's funny, you'd think she'd be worried about the ribs that showed through her pink dress.

"Xaphem, be careful, please..." Her breath made me drop from my haze. Fresh baked bread, obviously, she was persuading the cute little baker down the street again. If it keeps her fed, I'm all in.

I stepped outside. The fresh air poured into my lungs, making me step back. The Capital must be very careful about keeping out all dirt on reaping day. Heck if I cared. I turned back to my little sister. The tears were lining her cheekbones. I smiled before bending down and tucking back her hair.

"Ariana, I'm going to be fine." This was not true. My name was in there sixty seven times. I take time for my oldest sister, Carolina, too, even though she's out of the reaping. Ariana never believed me and of course I wouldn't believe her.

I headed down to the Whovians place. It's a pristine T.A.R.D.I.S and treated with a major respect. My area, the Supernatural part of town, most of it is burnt down. The genetically mutated monsters roam the streets, and my body gets cold chills at night. I still wake up screaming for my sister to run.

As I walked down the street I remembered. She was in the final five. I was ready, I never Alaska was coming home. She would be our victor. I was ready. She was searching for water, the lake leading her into a false idea that there was any. I felt the tears coming as they switched screens before she was stabbed in the back by a girl named Sparkle from Class One. I screamed for her to run as Ceaser made his own comments about her death. She could've made it, I knew she could've. Yet I was only seven, but I still have nightmares about the blood trickling down the sliver blade.

I turned into the blue doors. They were very lit, maybe only one place I know that keeps the place well lit. Trust me, I'd know. I found there was never anything in my bargain, the Whovians were always very pricey. I knew I could make this. I stepped out of the building and began kicking the rocks along the road.

The Peace Keepers were in more of a line as they ushered me along and into the town square. There on the stage stood Phoenix, the lady who tried too hard to be Katniss Everdeen. Yeah, she's dead though, it's the 140th Fandom Games, not the in the seventy.

I was packed into my line with other girls. I only recognized a couple, most of them had to be in the higher class. I felt the tears pouring into my eyes. It scared me, the twelve year olds, knowing there had to be a huge difference between them living and not in the next few years. That's if they made it through childhood. I know many who didn't.

It took a couple minutes for the universe to take balance as Phoenix took the stage. Her hair was high up on her head, it was as bright orange as I had ever seen it. Her dress caved in at her plastic surgery. Her heels had to be at least seven inches off the ground. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating. But from my black leather boots, they were.

"Welcome to the 140th Fandom Games!" She said in her over done Capital accent. "And may the odds be ever in your favor!" I rolled my green and blue eyes. They are not in my favor Phoenix.

"As always, Ladies first!" My heart fell to my chest as her cat like fingers dug around in the paper slips. "Xaphem Novak." My heart fell to my feet. I heard Ariana's screams as the pathway parted for me. I stiffly walked up onto the stage, and felt my feet go numb as they hit the metal floor.

"Congratulations Xaphem!" She said as if I was excited. I could see Ariana's hair buried in my father's expressionless face. My face seemed to be melting at the sight of it. "Now for the boys..." She plucked out the first name she saw. If she had done that for the girls, would I still be down there, smiling for my next free two years? "Zyleen Winchester?"

A Winchester? Impossible. Those were outlawed years ago. I could hear the confusion in Phoenix's high pitched voice. A boy walked onstage. He had beautiful green eyes, Deans trait, and a stocky build, Sam's trait. His hair flipped down over his face. It concealed the millions of freckles he had from working in the sun for years. I had them too, but I mostly stayed indoors.

"Now! For the Fandom Pack." She dipped her hand into the shallow bowl of fandoms our class was given. "S..." She began. No! I thought. Not Sherlock. "Supernatural!" My eyes flashed around the room. "Now shake hands."

I leaned forward and grabbed Zyleen's hand. I made it purple as we shook. He didn't look surprised. I was happy he was alright with me attempting to cut off circulation in his fingertips. Finally we let go.

"Any volunteers?" Phoenix asked. No reply, only the wind jerked in response. "Okay! Here are your two tributes this year!" She motioned for us to hold our hands up, but there was no reply. I only stood there with my fists clenched in anger. At least I got Supernatural, that ones pretty good.

"Now would your mentor please step up?" She motioned for the mentor to come up. I suddenly recognized her.

Her face was smeared with scars, her eyes a dark brown, her hair a dirty blond. She wore a leather jacket, a green shirt, jeans, and boots that covered her knees. Baylee Mckee.

"Class Seven! Say hello to your new tributes! And Baylee! Our only Supernatural Winner!" There was no applause, but a small whistle I recognize in Rue's mocking jay tone.

After that we were pushed into the Justice Building. The walls were pure concrete, so I felt as if I was trapped when they pushed me into my little room with a small velvet couch. I ran my fingers over it. I knew this material, the things Alaska gave me...