Hey! Here are the District One reapings!
I still have a lot of open spots so please SYOT or a bloodbath tribute!
Anyways... Hope you enjoy!
Gadriel POV
When the doorbell rang, I was just stepping out of the shower. "Gadriel!" My father called up the stairs. "It's Starlight!" I could hear the annoyance in his voice.
I paused, pondering whether he was annoyed because I was running late, or because he'd have to talk to her while I was changing. I pulled on an emerald green suit quickly, smiling at the thought of my punctual father glancing at his watch, as Starlight yakked on about human rights or whatnot. I ran down to greet her. Reaping day, game on.
My father was standing at the bottom of the stairs, tall and stately. Once referred to as: The most attractive mayor of the past thirty years. You heard that right; my dad is the mayor of district one. Big deal.
Starlight stood with her back to the wall in a long blue dress. The dress was a good fit for her slightly more, what's the word? Robusque figure. And her dark flyaway curls were pinned back in a bun or whatnot.
"Hot," I mouthed. She tried to scowl in the way she always did, but ended up smiling. She stuck out her elbow dramatically.
"Care to escort me, sir?" I shook my head because my best friend was insane, and looped my arm through hers. It was a big deal in district one: Whom you walked to the reaping with. It was joke to me though, since: 1. I had nowhere to walk from 2. I had no one to go with. Funny right?
"Right!" My father said, back on target. "Its 8 o'clock right now, and they're going to begin shooting at 9. We need to be there early so I can run through my speech. If you want head back home Starlight, that's understood."
I rolled my eyes. Getting to the town square wasn't a matter of time; it was right outside our house! And my father's comment about "going home," was ridiculous. Starlight had shown up for me at 8 since our very first reaping. After all these years my father couldn't accept that I hung out with her instead of all the punch-each-other- to-say-hello boys I trained with.
"I think we're just going to chill out here for a bit," I said calmly. He paused for a second, mumbled something incomprehensible, and nodded, shutting the door firmly behind him.
"How are things with him?" Starlight asked, as we made our way to the living room.
"Same as ever," I said as I flopped down on our velvet couch, "He wants me to volunteer."
"At the reaping?" she asked. I nodded mutely. "Surely he doesn't think that," She continued, "you're his only son."
"Exactly, his only son, a disgrace. The way he sees it; I go in, and I come out with a headline in the paper: MAYORS SON WINS 43rd HUNGER GAMES. What's to lose?" I asked. We were silent, because we both knew the answer to that question.
"He really said that," she whispered to herself, but said nothing else. She knew I was to much a wimp to volunteer, even If that's wasn't how she saw it.
Karia POV:
I pulled the thin strap of my violet dress back onto my shoulder as I entered the town square. I immersed myself into the crowd quickly, walking numbly to my spot at the back, just in front of the twelve year olds. You could almost smell the fresh fear rising from them.
Onstage the mayor, the man my mother hated so much was talking, rumbling on in his chocolaty voice. I tuned out the speech. I already knew it by heart.
After an eternity of speeches and victor introductions, we all cheered as Opal Manning, the announcer from the capitol, walked onto stage. Her skin was white. And her hair was piled up on top of her head in a bright blue beehive. She flashed her toothy smile, positively beaming, as we applauded. At least she can be happy, I thought. Despite my smiles, my stomach was churning.
"Hello boooys aaand girlsss!" She called in her plasticy accent. "Well here we go," She sidestepped awkwardly over to the glass bowl, still beaming at the cameras.
"And the female tribute for District one is…" She paused for dramatic effect, and then looked up, giving the cameras a knowing smile. "Karia Wesley!" The usual applause followed. My mom started to scream. My stomach dropped, as I walked forward. Smile, I thought. Smile because this is such an honor, right?
I will admit, as I walked onto stage I still had the slightest hope it wasn't for real. District one had a long history of volunteers. But as the seconds past, true fear registered within me. The games had lost popularity here after watching last year's tributes bludgeon each other to death with clubs as their only weapon. My only remained this this: smile. A small thirteen-year-old girl never looked great to sponsors. A crying one looked even worse.
"How old are you Karia?"
"Thirteen" I said. She smiled. I smiled.
"Well you must be excited, right?" She asked in her over chirpy tone.
"Would you be?" I asked darkly.
She looked so shocked by my question, I felt bad for a second. But I grounded that thought down quickly. I was in the Hunger Games now, and that comment gave me an edge. Opal chuckled slightly, then turned back to face the cameras.
"And now, its time to announce our male tribute! The male tribute for district one is….Craven O' Fallen!" I watched a plucky, red haired 14-year-old make his way to the stage. His thick glasses magnified the tears in his eyes. That's when Mayor Phefferman cut in, grabbing the microphone from Opal Manning.
"Really?" He asked, addressing the audience. "No volunteers today?" Silence. "Where's the fighting spirit I love our district for?" The crowd stared up at him, blank eyed.
"Suicide is all the rage," I said before I could stop myself. Good thing I didn't have a microphone, because my voice only carried two rows out. But the mayor heard me, and glared. I realized that was the second time I'd challenged an adult on live television in the past few minutes. I stepped back.
The mayor cleared his throat loudly, "What about you Gadriel? Won't you volunteer?" I gasped. The betrayal washed through the audience like a tsunami. Gadriel Phefferman, he couldn't not-volunteer now. The district would scorn him forever. I watched as the mayor's only son slowly made his way through the crowd.
"I volunteer," he said in a slow voice, not so much as glancing at his dad. The trembling fourteen-year-old stepped down from the stage, as Gadriel, the mayor's handsome sixteen-year-old son took his place.
"Well! This is something!" Opal Manning cried. "Lets here a round of applause for this young man," she said, clapping him on the back. The audience clapped half heartedly.
We turned to face each other to perform the traditional greeting tributes of district one do. We put our hands on each other's shoulders, and locked gaze. Nodded, then spun around and exited opposite sides of the stage. The regular applause fired up as we left, but I swore it was quieter than usual. Singed with the betrayal that the mayor had inflicted on his son.
As I was escorted off by peacekeepers, all I could think of were Gadriels eyes. In that second mine met his, it felt like we'd formed some secret alliance. The both of us would join the careers, of course. But I knew he was less malicious than the average volunteer. Maybe we'd be friends. But the thing was, Gadriel Phefferman only had one friend. Popularity wasn't his thing.
A lot of girls thought he was cute of course, but he was usually quiet and remote. I personally thought he was bit strange looking. His hair so blonde, almost white. His eyes so brown, almost black. But strange as he seemed to me, I cried for his misfortune once i was out of view. After that, I cried for mine.
Gadriel POV
I was taken to my own room, but it wasn't the same. Peacekeepers armed the door. And my father didn't love me. Of course I'd known that for some time, but to do this? He had to hate me, and I had no idea why. I had a reason to hate myself, of course. But how could he have found out?
I turned to my dresser, and ripped the lamp off, throwing it against the wall. This destruction went on for hours, until my hands were bloody, and I wanted to gag. I hated blood; it was the color of death. I hated death; it was the color of sorrow. With nothing left to destroy I ripped my clothes off, because he'd given them to me.
The next morning I'd be found curled up naked. Great, they'd say; we're sending a little girl and a lunatic off to fight in the arena. Personally, I didn't give a fuck.
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