Ding, ding! The morning bell chimed through both my ears as I lazily lifted my head and took a look around my room. "What?" My voice called out, but the room was empty. Usually, I would have gotten a response. Unlike some of the other districts, our district did not have regular houses for different individuals. We lived in houses that accommodated up to twenty people into small places. Where I lived, however, only fifteen people lived in the small, one room cabin. It wasn't incredibly small, to be honest, but when we are all sprawled out on the floor, I have to admit that things could be a little... crowded. I am the only teenager living here, though, so maybe it makes things a little easier for me. I always found a quiet place to rest my head.
Children and adults are usually cuddled close to each other, but I was alone at night. I'm actually where I usually sleep, in the right corner opposite of the single door connected to the small cabin. We don't have any beds what so ever in this dainty old cabin, which makes it a bit unbearable at times, but... There's something about it that I cling to. My memories, perhaps, are what make this place a home, even though it's more of a cell. I glare down at the sheet over top of my young, frail body and slide it off, folding it neatly and putting it back into my corner before I get up off of the frigid wood flooring. The only other thing in this one room home is a fireplace to keep us warm at night. The fire that was tendered the night before looked as if it were put out, likely by one of the other occupants. Quietly, I take a step out of the cabin and close the thin door. The door looks as if it couldn't take much more, but it still seemed sturdy. Regardless, I was careful with the door before I examined my surroundings.
Next to the small cabin is what I wake up to every morning: a field of golden that I know by heart, that most of everyone in District Nine knows by heart. The field is more of a home to us than the cabins that we stay in. We know more about the fields than we know about the future and the past. I am not excluded. However, I am a lone worker in the fields. Children usually have to be assisted by adults to get around the fields and some adults form groups to help each other harvest grain. I, however, find solace in doing it alone. Taking a look away from the fields that I noticed instantaneously, I glare down below me. Standing in front of me with her eyelids closing and opening rapidly is a little girl who's name I know. In fact, she is an inhabitant of the cabin that I live in and she is my only friend. Besides her, there is no one else in my life that seems to want me. However, the same managed to happen to her. In the cabin, even though she huddles close to the other kids her age, I always manage to be there with my tan skin and warm body to help my 'little sister', as I call her, to feel better. Her name is Cradle.
"Auger!" Her pearly white smile is enough to light up a room. It's strange how a girl such as herself can be so happy. She's a lot like me. Neither of us know whom are parents are and neither of us have grown close to a family that has biologically raised us. It's also quite strange that she has such shiny teeth, but I fail to see how this connects to our past.
"Cradle," I smile, reminded of the few times I led her around the fields for fun. I am more of a parent to her than anyone else has ever been. To be honest, some people think that we're related. Like the people of the district, we have naturally tan skin. Me and Cradle have the same hair color, but we also have the same bone structure. We both look frail, though I'm a bit sturdier than she is. However, she's shorter for her age. I stand at a height of five feet, eight inches. Her height barely compares to mine, "Where did everyone go?"
"The plaza," She speaks, her voice suddenly falling silent. Right, how could I forget? Her gentle voice speaks again, "Don't you remember? Today is the day of reaping."
"Right," It seems that we both fall into a stupor for a couple of seconds just examining each other. There was always something about the reaping that always scared everyone. It was the children, surely, that were going to be fighting in that arena if they were selected. However, today was especially scary for everyone involved.
She seems panicked for a couple of seconds, taking my hand and gripping it, "Did you vote?"
The words seem to slip out of her mouth a little too easily, causing me to let go of her hand and pull away. The thought of what was going on is much too real. This year is special compared to every other 'game' that we've had since the war. This year is the first 'Quarter Quell', a special event the marks the date of the Capitol's victory over the districts. And this year... We all must decide who is to die in our district. Naturally, however, I could not vote for another person. I am not a murderer and I refuse to act like a murderer. I gulp, "No." The single word that slips out of my mouth is full of emotion and heartbreak and I don't even realize it until Cradle gives me a twisted expression.
"Oh," she utters. Her single word is just as charged as mine. However, she doesn't comment on whether or not she voted. The look in her eyes tell me, however, that she did not. I wasn't aware if there was a regulation for voting, either, because of her young age. She wasn't even able to be reaped yet. However, in another year they could gladly strip her away from me and her 'family'.
"Why didn't you go with them?"
"They told me to stay with you," Cradle grins, her face and emotion changing within a second, "They needed me to tell you to come with them, since they thought you might not... remember." A smirk forms, and she quickly knows she's 'shown me up'.
"Alright," I grin back at her, chuckling a little bit, "Am I going to see you there, or are you going to walk through the fields?" I watch her walk backwards towards the fields of gold as I speak.
"The fields are our home, Auger. You and I both know that," She lets out in a whisper before her voice trails off. She quickly disappears into the field, leaving me to watch the field for a couple of seconds before I begin to move towards the patches of dirt without grass that we call our roads. I walk for a little while before I make it to where I always end up at the reaping; a circle of houses where many people also seem to sell their hand-crafted goods. In the middle, however, a stage has been set. That stage is connected to the Justice Building, which I assume each district has. People have already formed groups. I am one of the last ones to actually walk towards the group of peace keepers and have blood taken from my finger to make this drawing more accurate.
Unlike reapings from the year before, there are two bowls, but each of the bowls have only one slip of paper in them. I glance up at the stage. A man draped over with various shades of different colors, focusing on lighter colors of blue, green, and yellow, stands on the stage in front of a microphone that the peacekeepers put there before for him. Caligula Glitter. His name is much different from all of ours, but his face is very recognizable. He has been the District Nine escort for five years now and he shows no sign of letting up just yet. His flamboyant voice, as fragile as any of the voices I usually hear from someone from District Nine, rings out, "Attention, attention!" He tests the microphone before he gets down to business with his never-ending smile, "Welcome to the reaping!" His hand sores out as if he is presenting to an audience a magic trick he has learned.
"It's great to be here," He smiles, looking over the unamused audience that seems more focused on the glass bowls with whom they've selected to become their next tributes, "... Let's get down to business, shall we?" He smiles wickedly, walking towards his right and towards the bowl for the female tribute. He reaches in and grabs the single slip, walking back over to the microphone and gripping the small paper in his hands, "... Sheave Snaith!" His voice rings through the crowd. A girl who looks a little older than me steps out of the crowd and walks up to the stage. Her grey-toned eyes are what I notice about her, compared to my dark brown. However, she looks very typical for a District Nine citizen besides that single feature. Black hair, tanned skin... However, she doesn't seem to be as beat up as the rest of us. Still, I'd never met her before, not that I could remember.
The terrified girl looks fearful at her oppressors before Caligula moves the girl towards the microphone, "Hello there, Sheave! Are you glad to be here?" Caligula keeps his signature Capitol grin. The scared girl grimaces and looks at Caligula, but doesn't speak into the microphone at all. Caligula moves a hand through his well-combed hair as he places the microphone and its stand back on top of the center of the stage, "Now, for our male tribute!" Caligula moves his body over to the bowl. Everyone, including myself, shows no fear as he pulls out the slip. He moves back over to the microphone, glaring down at the slip.
"Auger Brown!"
Auger... Brown? That could not have been my name, could it? But, it was... I was the only boy in my district with that exact name. A tingling sensation runs through my body and my skin becomes a bit pale from this shock that has run through me. How could anyone vote for me? How could anyone do that to me of all people? They didn't even know me and now... now I was going to die? Another chill swept through my body. But maybe that's why this happened, because I don't know many people, because I don't care for many people. My preference for being left alone has caused my imminent death, hasn't it? I move towards the stage after moving through the group of people that surrounded me, walking up to the stage alone. Caligula almost seemed annoyed that I was taking so long, but I was taking in all of the faces that I passed. Who voted for me? Who wanted me to die? Who wanted me to be the one that falls? My ears pick up a couple of quiet whispers here and there as I move up on the stage. Apologies, specifically, and no slurs or rude comments. It isn't that they want me dead. It is because they could not choose anyone else. Because they didn't talk to me, because they never noticed me, I am a victim of this reaping.
And now, I am about to prepare for my imminent death as I glance over at the girl opposite to me. Sheave, my District Partner, already seems like my future enemy, but I take in her appearance anyway. By the time that I am led into the justice building, awaiting transportation to the Capitol, my mind has zoned out.
I am not myself.