The Capitol theme comes to a triumphant end, ringing out the all-too-familiar final chord. The enormous screen on the stage flickers to black briefly before holding on the Capitol emblem. Halfheartedly, a few Peacekeepers clap, muffled by thick white gloves. Just like last year. And the year before that. And the year before that…
The only person on the stage, a portly fellow in a lime green suit and matching glittering face tattoos applauds enthusiastically as he steps up to the microphone.
"Marvelous, simply marvelous!" his deep voice booms over the silent crowd, "And now, without further ado, it is time to choose the Tributes of District Five!"
Truth be told, I'd had enough of Leonitus's ado-ing before he even took the stage. The sooner he gets this reaping out of the way, the better. I just can't wait to be finished with all this.
"As always," Leonitus says, gesturing flamboyantly to the glass bowl on a pedestal to the left, "ladies first."
As he makes a big deal of swirling the pieces of paper around in the bowl, I look over at the girls, who have been herded together in front of the left side of the stage. A few hold hands, shaking. Some are already silently crying, tears falling onto the lacy fronts of their new dresses.
Leonitus's fingers close around a piece of paper, and he pulls it from the bowl. Clearing his throat, he unfolds the paper and leans into the microphone.
"Bonnie Evander," he announces with a sickening, pearly grin.
A tiny gasp escapes from the mouth of a frail, blonde girl with wide, green eyes.
I can't say I know Bonnie well. She's fifteen, three years younger than me. I've seen her at school sometimes, but we've never spoken. Still, though, I'm sad for her. It's impossible not to be. Bonnie sinks to the ground, weeping. The girls near her pick her up and give her gentle nudges towards the stage. Somehow she manages to make her way close enough to the stage for two Peacekeepers to grab her and march her up the stairs. Leonitus takes her hand and leads her to the front of the stage, her choked sobs echoing in the silence.
"And now," he says a bit too loudly into the microphone, trying to speak over Bonnie's wailing, "the gentlemen."
I'm somewhere between hope and terror as he makes his way to the right side of the stage, where an identical glass bowl sits, filled with the names of the boys of the district, myself included. Seven of the slips of paper have my name, as I'm eighteen years old, and a slip has been placed in the bowl every year since I was twelve. This is my final reaping. If I can survive this one, then I'm free. Free at last from the grip of the Hunger Games. All Leonitus has to do is pick any one of the boys around me, and I can at last breathe a sigh of relief for the first time since I was a child.
He makes the same show of swirling the papers around, and I absently wonder what it will be like to watch him do this when I know my child's name is in the bowl. It's a reality we all have to face someday, but-
"Calix Brannon"
Hundreds of faces turn in my direction.
No.
This has to be a nightmare.
"Where are you, Calix? Come on up!"
Frozen to the spot, my breathing begins to pick up, and my heart thuds in my ears. The boy next to me places his hand on my back and gives me a little push forward. Slowly, I begin to walk towards the stairs. What feels like an hour later, two Peacekeepers flank me and all but shove me up onto to the stage. Leonitus claps a hand on my shoulder and walks me over to stand next to Bonnie, who has gone from hysterics to silent anguish, staring at the ground.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I present the tributes from District Five!" Leonitus extends his arms in a grand gesture, but no one applauds, as always. He steps back so that Bonnie and I can shake hands. I try to be brave, extending my hand to her first. She looks up from the ground and clasps her tiny hand around mine. We shake, but I can't look at her. I look at our hands, focus on the way our fingers bend, how our palms meet, anything but at her wet, red face.
Leonitus steps through our handshake and booms into the microphone, "Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" before grabbing both of our arms and dragging us away through the doors of the Justice Building.
The doors slam behind us, and we are lead by Peacekeepers through the halls. While Bonnie is taken further down the hall, a Peacekeeper opens a nearby door and I enter. He closes the door behind me, and I am left alone. The room is small and dark. One wooden chair sits against the windowless wall, and a few more chairs sit opposite it. Assuming the singular chair is for me, I sit down and put my head in my hands. A few tears slide down my nose and onto the new slacks my mother pressed for me this morning.
Suddenly, the door flies open, and my mother rushes into the room.
"Calix!" she cries, throwing her arms around my neck.
I am aware of my father entering the room, standing silently behind my mother, who is now repeating, "I love you," over and over into my neck.
"I love you, Mom," I say, my voice cracking.
We stand there for a while, holding each other and crying. I breathe in her scent for what I fear is the last time.
"Calix," my father speaks up.
My mother looks back at him, then lets me go and sits in one of the chairs opposite mine. My father comes forward to take the chair next to her, and I sink down onto my own. Our eyes meet, but we say nothing for a minute or so. I feel my mother's hand reach out and take mine.
"I love you, son."
I try to stifle my tears as best as I can and end up croaking, "I love you too."
He opens his mouth to say something, but words fail to come, and he just sighs.
"We'll save up," my mother says, "We'll sponsor you. Just get yourself to a safe place and we'll try to help you survive."
I nod and say, "I'll try."
"We'll do whatever we can, Calix," my father adds quietly.
A fresh wave of tears pouring down her thin face, my mother reaches out for me and wraps her arms around me again. As I lift my arms to hold her, I feel my father place his arms around both of us, embracing us tightly. Save for a few sniffles, we silently sit and hold each other until the heavy footsteps of the Peacekeepers coming towards the door make us all jump.
Frantically my mother holds on tighter, "We love you, Calix."
"We love you so much," my father pulls us even closer to him.
My heart begins to race as I hear the door open. I manage to blurt out one last, "I love you," before gloved hands clamp around their arms and lead them out of the room. The door slams behind them, and I hear my mother's wails echo down the hall as they go.
I wipe my eyes with the back of my sleeve, and wait for the next visitor. I hear footsteps outside in the hall, but none of them stop at my door. I guess Bonnie has a lot of friends. Truthfully, I was never very good at making friends. Of course I'd make conversation with the others at school, but once it came out that my family was financially stable enough to afford to keep me out of the power plants that the other students would work long hours in after class, they never wanted to associate with me. Of course, I would never complain about my father's job and the security it brings, and I have never flaunted my status at school. Still, though, I guess no one but my parents wants to see me one last time. I can't blame them. I haven't exactly gone out of my way to get close to anyone. When each year could be the last that you or your peers live, making friends seems like a risky activity sure to end in heartbreak later.
Eventually, the door opens again, and a white-coated Peacekeeper pokes his head in and grunts, "Lets go."
I rise, obediently, and leave the room, joining several more Peacekeepers and Bonnie in the hall. We walk silently, never making eye contact. We exit the Justice Building out a back door and find ourselves on a concrete platform, a shiny, clean train with several white, identical cars waits with open doors for us. Bonnie enters first, and I climb aboard after her. The automatic doors slide shut immediately behind us, and I turn back to look through the window at what I can see of District Five. Without a sound, the train pulls away, accelerating faster and faster and turning the Justice Building into a gray blur in the distance.
It takes a while for me to turn away, knowing it is the last I will ever see of District Five. Next stop: The Capitol.