The bright sun shining over me as I walk creates a thick layer of yellow all over the trees. The newly colored trees that block out the few clouds that are floating aimlessly in the sky are perfect for me as the warm sunlight breaches my skin.
I sigh. It's beautiful this time of year. The peak of spring makes the lives of everyone here in District 12 much easier. Literally. After a few months of cold and snow the past year the season has finally changed, causing walks from point A to point B smoother and faster. I smile. Although the breeze whizzing past me causes me to lose my balance as I'm carrying a bunch of different clothes in my arms.
My mom told me to go take them to the general store down the street of the square to be traded for some eggs we could use. Don't get me wrong, we have the money to buy eggs. But it's just that my parents are such minimalist people they could only spend so much before saving for god knows what. Although, to be honest trading items is much easier.. I have in my arms about two articles of comfortable summer clothing the general store owner might want. It's appropriate for the upcoming season happening in a few more weeks.
I prop my knee up and push the cloth up with the base of my leg to keep it from falling and continue my stroll to the building. As stupid as it sounds, I would've much rather lived without eggs for a few weeks then stroll the mile long street in the blazing heat. Little beads of sweat drip from my forehead for each step I take. As beautiful as everything is around me, the sun needs to cut me some slack!
I finally reach the general store. But the door is no help for me considering my two hands are packed. Suddenly the glass door opens. Allowing me to step inside.
"Here, lemme help you with that." A male voice says. Huh, I think. So he's here again.
Isaiah, my friend from school. Takes the heavy load from my arms and strolls over to the counter, where the owner is waiting by keeping her hands at her hips.
He places the two long dresses by the cash register. The owner gives me sneer, judging by her expression. She'd much rather prefer cash.
"So," she says. "What'll it be for you two?" She takes the load and places it in a basket behind her.
"Just a carton of eggs," I say with an optimistic smile. "Twelve." It's reaping day, so I know she's just being generous for this stressful time. But I, in fact. Don't have to worry about it. But I'm pretty sure Isaiah does. Considering he's from the Seam.
The store owner hands me a carton full of eggs. I open it and count to make sure there are twelve inside. Which there are, and I close it shut and say goodbye to the owner before turning around and leaving.
"Wait!" Isaiah exclaims, running after me. "Hold on, Hale? Can't you at least say thank you?
"Thank you." I respond back quickly. This tends to happen a lot. I'm not exactly a people person, so I find myself having to be reminded constantly of my manners. I'm only comfortable around the reach of my family, It's like I'm a lone soul wandering aimlessly under the sun.
At least when I'm with them I can be myself.
"What are you thinking of right now?" Isaiah asks, looking me in the eyes as I try to search for an answer.
"Just thoughts." I reply. To be honest, though, I'm just staring out in the distance in front of me, admiring what spring has brought for us.
"Hmm, interesting." He retorts. I smile as a response.
I don't know why he chose to be my friend, I don't see myself being worthwhile to be around, he must see something that I don't. If that's really the case, then I'd like to find out what for sure.
He taps me on the shoulder, I'm released from my thoughts, and he points to the sky.
So that's why everything just went dark a minute ago. A huge hovercraft, probably the size of the justice building, is floating above us. Great. Now there has to be another sign telling us today's reaping day. Other than the many banners strung from one store to the next celebrating it.
I shouldn't be worried, because I know nothing's going to happen to me. I'm more worried for Isaiah, who's gazing up at the intimidating force up above. He probably has his name far more times in the reaping ball than I do. He's taken tessarae. I gulp at the thought of him being chosen.
"C'mon," he says, with a serious face. "Let's go."
We reach my house after what seemed like an eternity. He asks if he can go in, but I politely decline. I just need a moment for myself right now. He shrugs and leaves.
I open the painted white wooden door to my parent's cobbler shop. We also live here. As everyone who owns a shop can relate. I leave my shoes on the front mat and place the eggs on a counter before heading up the creaky stairs, past my mom who's making breakfast. I greet her as I pass, she greets back.
I go into my room, grab a book, and fall onto my bed. I flip it open to page 65 where I left off. The book is about a girl, like me, who gets trapped by this secret service and they pressure her into murdering a bunch of civilians. By burning down a town. It's a really good book. It's called Reticent.
I quickly pick up where I left off. The girl, whose name has still not been revealed. This keeps me intrigued, and I keep reading. She's hiding behind an edge of a building, holding a lit torch in her hand. I hold the book closer, excited to see what's going to happen.
She clutches the torch in her hand, going over her thoughts on if she should really do this. Her head is filled with brainwashing information. There's a part of her that tells her to light the town on fire. However, there's another part of her that tells her to follow her morals, and not do it. She's contemplating something for a moment, and then after a brief minute of thinking, she closes her eyes. Then lets the fire touch the skin on her neck, wait. WHAT?!
She engulfs herself on fire! Why?! I flip through the remaining pages of the book, so it ends with her committing suicide. Her, not wanting to cause any harm to anybody, realizes that she's stuck, and knows that that was the only thing to do. I close the book.
Well, THAT was unexpecting. But, I think it was pretty cool. Seeing as how this unnamed girl decided that she would rather cause harm to herself than others. I'm still not sure what the idea of her remaining unnamed was about, but there's no way to find out.
As I set the book down on my nightstand, I hear my mom call out from downstairs to come for breakfast. So I exit my room and begin walking downstairs to the sight of my family seated together, leaving a seat open next to my brother, Archie.
I sit down and am greeted by the smell and sight of cooked eggs, the breakfast is delightful. After I finish I take my plate to the sink and start heading up the stairs again. Archie right next to me.
"So did mom say we could leave right after we get dressed?" He asks, in his curious little 10 year old self. I think for a moment.
"Hmm, well you should ask before making bets." I subtly reply. He nods and we both walk together to each of our rooms. I close the door of mines after I walk in and take out something new from my closet. It's a blue cotton dress with frills at every ends, I like how it matches my eyes. I put it on and it falls to my knees. My mom must've woven it, she might be a cobbler, but she has hobbies too. Nevertheless, it's beautiful.
I smile as I admire myself, my eyes moving up and down my lean figure through the clear mirror. My long blonde hair reflects intensely causing a glint on my opposing self. It's nice having yourself all tidied up, even for something as misfortunate as the reaping. I hear footsteps downstairs, meaning I should probably hurry up getting ready. I finish my outfit with some socks and a pair of old shoes and hurry to the bathroom where I comb my hair.
My name is being called downstairs and I speed down the steps. I see my mom and dad first, dressed up in a purple dress and a fancy shirt. My dad rolls up his cuffs as he sees me.
"Ready for your third reaping?" He asks, with a soft smile around his face. I know he's trying to loosen the tension a bit. So I just smile in response.
My mom walks up to me, wrapping me in a warm hug. She closes her eyes,
"You look beautiful." She says. I chuckle, hugging her back.
"Thanks, mom."
I hear a grunt behind me and turn around to see Archibald, or as he prefers it, Archie. He hates it when someone calls him that. I think it's pretty funny.
"What, you don't like your little suit?" I retort. He glares at me. He's dressed in a long sleeved shirt along with a cute little vest that reads, "Proud to be a Simmons". My mom knitted it for him. I guess she believes this is some sort of unity. But to me, it's hilarious.
"Mom, I hate this. I wanna go change." He grunts.
"But you look like a cute little duckling!" She protests, kissing his cheek repeatedly. He blushes.
"Whatever," he says, rolling his eyes. "I'm way too old for this kind of stuff anyway." He crosses his arms.
"Alright, let's get moving!" My dad alarms us, tapping his watch.
I watch as everyone else leaves the house. I let them go without me, I'll come soon. I just want some more time in this house before having to worry much of my name being in a bowl somewhere, and me being chosen...
Ah c'mon! Get a hold of yourself, Hale. I won't be chosen, will I? The possibility is extremely rare. It'll probably be one of the Seam kids. As much as I hate to admit it, I'd rather someone else get picked than me. Besides, the science of chance is by my side here. I won't get chosen, I tell myself.
I'll be safe.
I walk out the door and almost immediately catch sight of Isaiah. Who's at the end of my house, with his hands shoved into his dress pants pockets. I wave at him, to which he nods his head. "Hey." he says as I walk over to him. I give an almost silent 'hello'.
"You nervous?" he asks. I want to nod to his question, but I know that'll be weird. So I just purse my lips to signal 'yes'. He smiles.
"You have no right to be nervous." He says, jokingly. I know that he's right. He's probably shaky as heck right now. I don't know what it's like to live in the Seam, as my family has been merchants since the very beginning. So, I can't possibly share his worries. But I still do. Merchant or not, my name is still in that bowl. Just waiting to be plucked out and read aloud. The thought sends shivers down my spine.
"What about you, are you nervous?" I ask him, expecting a brief reply. He shrugs.
"Kinda, there's a chance I'll be reaped, but, nevertheless, there are thousands of other names to choose from." I slowly nod in response.
A bell rings in my ears. Signaling that everyone needs to come to the square immediately. It's a reaping signal, which means we should probably get going. Isaiah gestures for us to go, and so we do, We'd be idiots not to.
The center of the square is a ten minute walk from here, so it's not far. Once we arrive, we get in line to register. When it's my time up, the peacekeeper sitting by the desk grabs my hand and stings me with a needle, I wince at the pain. I hope I'll eventually get used to it at some point. She places the blood on a pad on her desk, letting me go.
Huh, look at me. I'm more worried about getting my finger pricked than getting reaped, such is the life of Hale Simmons.
I go on over to the 14 year old girl's roped area. Where I recognize dozens of other girls from my classes at school. Some of them glance at me while I'm taking a spot. I find myself standing next to someone from my English class, Victoria. We don't exchange words.
I try to think of some ways to distract myself, so I tap my fingers against my thighs continuously until I'm almost taken back by the sudden loudness of someone testing the microphone. I look at the stage and see a woman, our escort. Trying to find out how the thing works. I roll my eyes, let's just get this thing over with so I can go back home.
"Greetings District Twelve! Welcome to the start of the 26th annual Hunger Games!" She trills. I notice that she's new. Not the escort from last year. I guess that the capitol must've decided that the old escort was too boring and whatnot. I guess it's whatever that suits the glory of the capitol. I let out a prolonged sigh, knowing that this is going to take a while.
"Now, to start off with the reaping. I'd like to show you all a video from the Capitol!" She exclaims. They show us the same video every year. How could she not get the memo?
Everyone watches as a long, projector like screen rolls down from the side of the stage. The Panem anthem playing as a raspy like voice begins to narrate. Once the clip is done. She begins to hand the podium spot to the mayor. Where he begins to read out from the Treaty of Treason, listing all the victors of past games in the process. District Twelve hasn't had a victor yet. Neither has half the districts. So he just reads off Careers mostly.
Something on the top of the stage lights catches my attention. A bird, who is sitting on the edge of a stage light, nuzzles its head underneath its wing. He stops and stares into my direction, at me?
I stare at its eyes for a while before suddenly it flies off. Leaving me confused.
The mayor has finished his speech and is now handing the spot back to Valoria Tetstill, the escort lady. Who's name I've learned from her name tag, probably there because she's new.
"And now, for the moment you've all been waiting for..." I purse my lips. Waiting for her to call out a name already, seam girl or not, please just get it over with!
With that, her hand sinks deep into the glass orb. The way her fingers graze all the slips makes me shiver. Suddenly, she fishes one out. I feel bad for the girl who's going to be picked. I try not think about it, though. I just wait for her to call out the name.
Valoria Tetstill unfolds the piece of paper, before clearing her throat. I hear half the girls hold their breaths as she gathers the attention of all of Panem.
The name she calls out is Hale Simmons.
I hear the sound of a bird's wing fluttering out in the distance. The same one who stood by the stage lights, right before the deafening shriek of my mother breaks the silence. I stand staring at the escort, with balls of tears forming in my eyes.
I've always had a way with luck. It almost seems as if I'm a prophet of some sort. I recall being seven years old, clutching my father's hand while I was in the square witnessing the reaping. My eyes darted to this one girl, I don't know why, but she stood out to me. She had strawberry blonde hair and turquoise eyes. I remember her name being Magenta. Anyways, she had her name called out in the reaping. My little seven year old self was just as shocked as she was, and I will never forget that moment. The time I basically predicted a girl's upcoming choosing.
I wonder if someone had been looking at me today. I would really want to see the look on that person's face on the big screen in front of me. Instead, the person who's showing in the huge screen positioned on top of the stage is none other than me. I look at myself through glassy eyes. Then, I remember what has happened. I was chosen.
I let out a strangled cry. I start to fall but a peacekeeper clutches my arm just in time to keep me from face planting onto the concrete floor. He starts to drag me all the way to the stage, I'm trying to scream and I'm trying to move but all I can manage to do is let out a weak cry.
My whole world comes crashing down all at once. It's like I'm in a nightmare. I start to replace my cries with snuffling. It does not help me in any way. I see that no one is paying any attention to me. No one here cares if someone gets picked, Seam or Merchant, You're still part of the next shipment of tributes. I abandon sniffling while the peacekeeper takes me up the stairs.
The escort looks really uncomfortable, from what I can see. She's fresh out the capitol. No one ever cries about the Hunger Games. So this might be all new to her. Well, she's in for a long, long journey.
She grips my dress shoulder as I start crying again. Tears stain my perfect blue dress. I can't stop crying. No matter what anybody does. I'm just a next load for the Capitol to take care of, no one here shows any sympathy for me.
She guides me toward in front of a small black strip of tape on the stage floor. Where I'm supposed to wait for my partner to get called. I don't care who my partner is at this point, we're all going to die. Like our people do every year. I breath in, and exhale slowly through my puckered mouth.
"Well, here is your female tribute!" Valoria exclaims. No one does anything.
"Now, for the boys!" I watch her from my peripheral vision as she walks over to the other glass bowl and stick her hand thoroughly in and around the brim. She plucks one out and unfold the black fold surrounding the white paper. She reads aloud the male tribute,
"Graham Leighton,"
I see, through my foggy eyes, a scrawny little Seam boy emerges from the 13 year olds, he looks about 10. I don't know how he'll be able to survive the games. But he's my district partner, I know through all the years I've watched people die that he and I will have to band together. My mind suddenly shifts to Isaiah, and I scan the crowd searching for him, but he's blended in with all the boys. God knows what he must be thinking right now...
As soon as Graham comes up the stage, Valora makes both of us stand next to each other and ends the reaping with an official, "Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favour!" before making us shake hands. Graham looks me in the eyes as we connect palms, giving me a horrified look. I turn away from him quickly as soon as I get the chance. We are then surrounded by more peacekeepers, guiding us in through the Justice Building. The closing of the gates are the last thing I hear from my District.