Sitting against the metal wall I reminded Harry again why I had done this. "You guys needed it and I delivered it. Now I have to deal with the consequences. The reason I allowed my name to be in that bowl 28 times is you, Harry. You, and dad, and mom, and of course Liz," I said proudly. "Hey, there's still a solid chance you won't get picked," Harry replied weakly. I snorted. "I guess," was my answer. Although he wasn't the bravest of the bunch, Harry did always have a positive outlook. I was 2 years older than my younger brother Harry, me being 17 and him being 15. Our little sister, Liz, who was 11, was deathly ill and I had volunteered to put my name in 27 more times than usual to provide extra food and supplies to my family and Liz. My dad used to work at a wheel factory here in District 6, but the factory had been closed down by the Capitol for unknown reasons. Father had failed to find employment since. My mother was basically a full-time caretaker for my sister and Harry and I did whatever little jobs we could to help out. This was the last year before I could start to work at a department for money. "Chase...maybe you should go talk to that mentor guy in Victor Village," Harry suggested. "You mean Skye Locksmith? The legend of the 32nd Games?" I said nervously. "You are so certain you will be reaped so why not get a head start?" Harry chirped. I shrugged, stood, and started walking.
Harry was right behind me, for which I was grateful because I was scared of Skye. Who knows how unstable the Games left him? We arrived in Victor Village, a lonely area in District 6 that housed only three Victors. Skye, 19th Games winner Tammy, and some other lady Victor I can't remember. I lead Harry toward the large house I knew to be Skye's. Timidly, I knocked on the door. After a few moments, the door swung open powerfully. The 32 year old man before us looked haggard and beat up. "Who are you?" he muttered, not looking us in the eye. "I'm Chase Wheeler, and this is my brother Harry," I indicated slowly, "I'm here to talk about the Reaping tomorrow." Skye sighed. "What about it?" he asked. I shifted uncomfortably and spluttered, "I think I might get picked since I'm in that bowl 28 times." Skye frowned deeply and replied, "Come in." As the three of use scuffled inside, I could tell there was way too much room in this house for just Skye's family of 5. His wife Sydney was apparently out for a walk with their three kids. "Here, you can have some of that if you want," Skye said, gesturing toward the table. There were 5 and a half waffles sitting cold on a plate. They didn't look too appealing but Harry and I knew better than to turn down food. We dug in as Skye started talking, "Look, Chance, since you haven't been reaped yet, I can't officially mentor you but I'll give you some tips if you want them." Mouth full, I nodded and said, "My name's Chase by the way. Not Chance." Skye shrugged me off and then continued, "If you are reaped tomorrow, and listen carefully, don't panic. If you want the Capitol to like you, play the game. Walking to that stage is a major moment. Make it count." I nodded again, putting pieces together. "Now get out of my house before my wife finds out you ate our food!" Skye said. I got up, and Harry and I hurried outside.
"I don't think you need to worry too much dude, the odds are that you won't get picked," Harry again encouraged. "Yeah, but I ought to be ready," I responded. Harry shrugged. We made it back to the house and creaked open the door. We were greeted by the usual coughing fit coming from Liz's room. Dad was out looking for a job and mom was nowhere to be seen, so Harry and I grabbed our stash of money and headed to the market. "Heyyy, if it isn't Mr. I'll-Save-The-Sick-Little-Girl-All-By-Myself!" Leroy, the merchant, declared as Harry and I approached his station. "Shut up," I snapped, poking through Leroy's goods. "He doesn't have anything worth our time," Harry whispered to me. "What was that little chump?" Leroy barked. I nudged Harry and we hurriedly walked away. As we were passing another station, the old man behind it waved at me to come over. I approached and he said, "You're the kid that's in the Reaping 28 times right? With the sick sister?" I nodded solemnly. "Well come back tomorrow before the Reaping, I will have something for you," the old man answered mysteriously. I shrugged and replied, "I hope you're not messing with me." Harry and I poked around the market a while more then went home, bearing a watermelon and a sack of 6 apples.
The next morning I woke up in a dreadful mood. This could potentially be one of the worst days of my life. When I entered the main room Harry was already dressed and waiting. He gave me a feeble smile and I sat across from him. Finally, my dad strode in, followed by my mother. I walked into Liz's room, leaned down and gave her the last kiss on the cheek I would give her for a long time. At that we left Liz on our way to the Reaping. Harry and I waited in a long line until we got our fingers pricked and were sent respectively to the 15-16 and 17-18 years old sections. Our District representative, Conley Meek, then started his spiel about the Great War and why the Hunger Games are so amazing. I nearly threw up. First, Conley strutted over to the female bowl and fished around in there awhile. Then, his hand emerged, holding a single slip of white. "Amelia Cycle!" Conley Meek announced. A shy looking girl with blonde hair, and bright blue eyes scuffled forward and onto the stage. She was expressionless. At least she wasn't crying. Then, Conley walked to the other bowl full of white paper.
I held my breath, and crossed my fingers. It seemed to me like Conley's hand lingered in the bowl for an eternity. Finally, he revealed his choice. Then, he declared, "Chase Wheeler!" I sighed heavily, and willed my body into motion. Remembering back to Skye Locksmith's words of wisdom, I forced my mouth into a smile and nodded to the Peacekeepers as they escorted me to the stage. Then, I shook Conley Meek's hand, something most tributes don't do. "Let's hear it for Amelia Cycle, and Chase Wheeler, the District 6 tributes of the 47th Annual Hunger Games!" Conley Meek yelled. My heart shattered as he said it.
We were then shown to the Justice Building, where we would say our last goodbyes. I entered my room, and plopped down into this old, wooden chair. My thoughts flew a mile a minute as I waded through a mixture of sadness and strategy. The first visitor I had was Harry and my parents. They hugged me, told me to try my best and that they believed in me. I pulled Harry aside and whispered, "If I don't come back, you better pick up the slack." His head gave a nervous jerk. "Don't die," Harry muttered, as a Peacekeeper rudely shoved my family out. I waited silently in the room until finally, the door swung open. It was the old man from the market. "Young man, you did not keep your word. You were supposed to come to me before the Reaping," he spat. I shook my head, saying, "I am sorry." The old man snorted and then flung something at me. I caught it and then looked down. It was a neat little metal bracelet with hearts on it. "That is for your sister. But now, the only way to get it to her is by making it through the Games. Good luck son," the old man concluded, as he left the room before the Peacekeeper made him. My mouth gaped wide open. That old guy just put a lot of weight on my shoulders. I would feel horrible dying with this undelivered gift in my pocket. I had to win this for Liz, and everyone else.