Chapter 1
Another Nameless Tribute
Robyn
I thought it'd be just like any other year. It was one of those things that you don't think could ever happen to you until it does.
I had woken up that morning thinking 'today is just one of those days. Get through this year and the next, and you're good. Feel free to live your life, dude. The chances that it'll be anyone you know are so slim that I'd bet my life on it,' it's funny because it's true. It's funny because I was wrong. Oh so very wrong. That was the day of the reaping.
I showered and got dressed early that morning in my 'nice clothes' as my mother liked to call them. I left our quaint little abode that morning to run to the field in the middle of our area to see my friends. I fell down in the field that morning just to get grass stains on my 'nice clothes' because I'm a clumsy idiot.
"You're a clumsy idiot," my friend Braker said, laughing at me.
"Who's going to be the idiot when you're on the train to the Capital and I'm sitting at home, drinking tea?" I shot back. Ironic, isn't it?
Decibelle chimed in. "Hey. We shouldn't joke. It very well could be one of us. This might just be the last casual conversation we have." She wasn't lecturing us. She was just making a point. She does that. Did that. I don't know.
"Well you know what? If you get reaped, buddy," Braker put a hand on my shoulder. "I'll volunteer for you just like that," he snapped his fingers.
"And I'll volunteer for you, man," I smiled.
Belle looked at the ground. "Hey," she looked back up at the sound of my voice. "I'd volunteer for you, too. If I could."
"I know," she said. And I remember that moment because it's one of the last times I hear her voice.
We went to Braker's for breakfast, since District Three's reaping is at ten in the morning.
You see, each district gets one hour for their reaping so the people at the Capital can watch them all live. District One starts at eight am. District Two at nine am. So District Twelve at seven pm. I can't imagine having to wait that long in anticipation.
Braker's mother cooked us eggs and made us toast. We ate in silence.
In Three, we're pretty well off. We have food and nice homes and clean water. Nothing close to the Capital, but we get by without too much struggle. My mother runs a day care center and my father works in the factories making electronics. He used to bring me home little pieces of different kinds of cell phones to see if I could piece them together into a new phone, but not anymore. The Capital has no use for telephones anymore, I'm told.
By the time that we finished, it was nine thirty. "You'd better go," Braker's dad told us. He ushered Braker's siblings out the door with us and we were off once again. They all had the same dark hair and blue eyes.
It's odd to think that the fates of District One and perhaps District Two had already been decided for this year. I bet it's easy living in the Career districts. If you don't want to die in the Games, you don't. There are enough people willing to take your place that if, say, you were an intelligent human being, you could take that genius and do something in the world, instead of die on television.
When we got to the square, a bunch of Braker's siblings started to freak out. We just walked away. We didn't have enough patience for that that day. We got in line to get our fingers pricked. I can't stand needles. That was always the hardest part for me.
Braker goes first, he's the oldest. Then me, and then Decibelle. Last year we pretended that it hurt much more than usual just to freak her out but it's really not funny more than once. Plus, she was definitely extra worried this time… odd.
"Braker Ralston," the machine says when his blood is on the paper. After I go, the next name is "Decibelle Richter," and I watched her face as the needle broke her skin. It scrunched up beneath her mane of red hair and then it was over.
Braker went to stand at the back with the eighteen year olds and Belle and I stood with the seventeen year olds, but on opposite sides of the square. We made sure we could see each other from where we were.
The large clock in the square rung ten o'clock and then atmosphere was immediately tense. I started to get nervous. I was fine that morning. What was going on?
The escort for our district walked out in blue. Blue this year. Hmm.
"Hello! Welcome, welcome! My name is Evalee Evanston and I am the District Three escort. Before we begin the ceremony, we have a wonderful video brought to you all the way from the Capital!" She said it in her weird accent as though it was some sort of wonderful utopia and that it was a blessing to be chosen to go there. I can tell you it's not.
"War. Terrible war," the video started. Most people just tune out the whole thing every year. It's always the same. No one cares. They just want to get it over with. See if their family is safe for another year.
I looked back at Braker. He was only a few people behind me. He saw me and pretended to be sleeping on another kid's shoulder. I looked over at Decibelle and saw that she was already looking at me. She smiled a little and looked away.
"Wasn't that wonderful?" Evalee Evanston asked the crowd. Silence. "That's what I thought!"
She tapped the microphone and said "Ladies first." I could feel every person hold their breath. No one made a noise. The only sound you could hear were the clip-clop of Evalee Evanston's high heels.
She strutted over and rustled the papers inside the girls' bowl. I looked over at Belle and saw that she was crying. No, no, no. I hated it when she cried.
"Joules Kellian," was amplified across the square. Joules Kellian. Do I know a Joules Kellian? I saw a fifteen-or-so girl walk onto the platform, shocked. I do know a Joules Kellian. I don't think I'd ever spoken to her, but I did know that she was rather annoying and she didn't have many friends. 'Good. She won't be missed too badly,' I remember thinking. And soon after, 'How could you think that! You're a terrible human being.'
Decibelle was trying to breathe. She looked over to me. I gave her a thumbs up and mouthed "you're okay!" She gave a small smile and mouthed back "but you might not be." 'Well okay Negative Nancy!' I thought.
"Now for the boys!" said Evalee Evanston. That's when my hands got clammy. My name was in there six times out of thousands. I was fine. And even if I was chosen, Braker had promised me that I wasn't going. But if he was chosen, was I willing to make that sacrifice? Even though I had promised?
She took a paper out of the bowl and clip-clopped back to the podium. I just hoped that it's not Braker, that it's not Braker, that it's not Braker.
And it's not Braker. It's me. It's Chip Montgomery.
Author's Note: Hi! So in no way am I saying that I am a good writer, but I think that this is okay. And if you want to keep following the journey of District Three Boy, you should! Can I just make sure that it is known that I am not keeping canon with the books for some parts. But I'm trying to stay faithful as much as I can. I like to think that people could call this canon. Also, I'm going by the movie mostly, but I've obviously read the books. Anyway, I really hope you like it and you should drop a review if you do! Thanks! Robyn
P.S. geddit! Braker like Circuit Breaker? Decibelle like Decibel? Chip like Computer Chip? I'm hilarious.