Reaping Day - Sector One
"Quiet people have the loudest minds." Stephen Hawking
Lalo Ayer's POV (15)
"And, one day, the Games are gonna come back to the Capitol in full glory, and be like, 'WE'RE BACK BISHES!', and…"
I whip my head back to Ama, wanting to see the curious and relaxed face of hers, only to find her staring out the window. I scoff. "Were you even listening to me?" I say impatiently.
She stares back at me, startled. "Uh, of course I was… you were saying something about, um, this year's arena? A rad duck ...pie pan?"
"No," I furrow my eyebrows in frustration. "I said a 'bad luck island'."
She smiles apologetically. "Sorry, Lalo. I just got distracted."
"Sometimes I wonder if you even care."
"Yes, I care! But, honestly, what are the chances the Games are really going to happen again?" Ama cocks her head sideways and waves her arms dramatically. She thinks I'm just being paranoid about the Games coming back to the Capitol, but I have proof!
"The Gamemakers look for the interest of the Capitol," I point out skeptically, "and the Capitol loved the 76th Hunger Games, even the families of the tributes. Heck, the Districts liked it too. Why wouldn't they make the Second Capitol Games?"
She rolls her eyes. "Whatever, Lalo." At that moment, Liana and Dylan come and join our conversation.
"Lalo!" Dylan hisses, grabbing my shoulders with urgency. "I was snooping around in the government files, and found out they were planning the Second Capitol Games!"
I almost jump with joy, grinning like a doofus. "See?! This is what I freaking meant, Ama! You thought- you fu-"
"Lalo!" Liana exclaims, eyes widening. "Language!"
"But- but I told you guys, and-"
Dylan smirks, an expression that is way too familiar to me. "I was joking. The Second Capitol Games have not come nor are they ever coming."
I throw my arms up in exasperation. "C'mon! There's a chance-"
"Yes, there's a chance. But hardly." Ama's mouth is tucked into a firm line, which meant end of discussion. I cross my arms, pouting. I wish I could just say something, and have them listen for once in a while.
A lock of burgundy hair bounces into my face. I am suddenly reminded of my baby-ish looking face, with all my small features… that sounded weird. Liana says I have a simply adorable button nose and small pink lips. It's quite insulting, really. To top it all off, I used to be called "Fluffy" because of my poofy cheeks. Not that they've changed at all, really.
"Whatever. You're going to bow down to me when that day comes. And then, what will I do? Ima beat your ass!" I throw my arms in the air, hoping to get a reaction. Judging from the poorly-contained snickers they directed at me, I'm pretty sure they didn't take me seriously. No one ever does. I sigh, defeated.
"...Attention, Sector One High School," the speakers blare from the ceiling, projecting its voice across the entire recreation area. "Please report to Willow's Corner Park. Attendance is mandatory. Thank you."
Things like this happen each week, usually for an upcoming field trip to the Districts, a tour with a Victor, shit like that. Although, most of the time it isn't mandatory, but who's crazy enough to skip a meeting with a Victor?
Liana shrugs indifferently. "If they say to go, let's just, well, go." She speaks in a quiet tone, as if she was going to be arrested for talking loudly. If that was an actual rule, Dylan'll be in there for a lifetime. Maybe even after death, who knows?
I walk out of the large room and tumble out into the streets. Everywhere I look, there are people with green skin, implanted tiger fur, or rainbow afros. Despite having to see this each day, I cringe slightly. It's just… unnatural. However, it's nothing I've never dealt with before, so I keep it to myself. After all, Dylan has lime spiked hair and Ama has diamonds around the corner of her eye.
When I reach Willow's Corner Park (which is a memorial for a District One tribute. She had 12 kills, and during the final two, the other boy from 11 simply won by luck; as she was running, a hunter mutt speared her through the back.) I notice there are ridiculous amounts of people. What's going on? Usually there's only a few hundred people and they're all kids. Now… literally the whole Sector is gathered around the park.
"What's happening?" I hiss to a smaller kid beside me. He shrugs, his scaled dragon cuff tattoos showing. "Dunno." is his reply. He stalks off further into the crowd until there's no trace of him.
After a bit of wandering around and trying to look over the heads' of people, which is pretty hard considering they've surgically altered themselves to look seven feet tall, I find a line of people who look my age. Not knowing what else to do, I take a spot at the end of the line.
When I get to the front, there's a petite woman who has a needle in her hand. "Finger," she breathes. I place it on the table where she stabs it, and stamps my finger on a piece of paper along with my name. It leaves a deep ache where she poked it.
Maybe they're doing a population check? It'd make sense, with all the people around. I'm rounded up into a section where boys who look my age. For some reason, this feels familiar. The anxiety's smacking me in the face, and I still can't tell who it is or why I seem to remember it.
A woman stands on a fountain, clanking around on her magenta-colored high heels. "Welcome, Capitolites," she announces sweetly. The woman is wearing similar Capitol fashions, with ankle-long diamond-blue hair and a dress made of gems. "You may remember me District One's escort, Julia Diamante…"
Wait. What's the escort doing here? Can it be…?
"And you're probably wondering; Why am I here? Well, I'm proud to announce it's time for the 152nd Hunger Games, or, will be better known off as the Second Capitol Games."
"I told you!" The words come out of my mouth before I can stop it. I can just imagine Liana's, Ama's, and Dylan's faces when I say this. The whole Capitol is probably staring at me right now, waiting eagerly for what this young boy has to say. "I told you all motherfuckers that the Games would come back, but did anyone freaking listen?! Raise your hands if you believed a word I said!"
As expected, no one says a word. Ama crosses her arms and shakes her head shamefully at me. Liana doesn't even bother to yell out, "LANGUAGE!"
"No! Who's laughing now?!" I give up a triumphant smile, putting my arms on my hips sassily. Then I remember about the people who're looking at me, and embarrassed I return my body parts to their normal, quiet location.
Apparently the escort wasn't paying attention to my little speech whatsoever, and continues on. During my ranting, she must've picked out the boy's name from the ballot already. I listen, excited to find out the Capitol male tribute. This'll be fun.
"Lalo Ayers!"
"Shit."
"I must be cruel, only to be kind." William Shakespeare
Kuna Grace's POV (18)
"And that wraps up our lesson for today." Salvador, my private tutor, stacks his folders together and smiles and me.
"Thanks, Salv. You'll have to go, because my dad says I have to change. Probably to go to some Capitolite party or whatever. We can't have our talks today, I'm sorry." I grin back lamely and start to shoo him out of my house.
"Oh, Kuna, I already knew I had to leave. It's, well, it's business that concerns me after all." He waves apologetically after me out the door. His facial expressions told me he wanted to tell me something, but was holding it back. I close it, but not before I see him look back, flushed.
I stalk into my room, preparing to get ready for where-ever my family wants me to go now. My mom always told me I had to look my best for every occasion, and it's kinda burned into my memory. I study myself in the mirror, recognizing the cold, blue eyes that stare back at me, framed with perfect long lashes. Snow-colored hair falls down my back in waves, matching the similarly colored skin of mine's. As if embarrassed, my eyes fall to the floor.
Maybe I can drop the exception today, just for once. I don't need to wear a huge, poofy red dress. Instead, I wear a skimpy, yet comfortable, laced black dress with white tights underneath. My tattoo appears vividly on my back, which is a cherry blossom tree.
I have more. There's another one on my chest, of a white and a black fish. Yin Yang is what they called it, the people in the tattoo center. My arms are entwined with a pretty rose vine. Call me tattoo crazy, but they're cool.
Staring at my nails, I realize how gross they look. They have all sorts of dirt and dust underneath, not to mention blood. They weren't directed at myself, but other people. Bullies, to be specific. It's a… weak term for people who beat up smaller people, but at least they've gotten the message. If only scratches were life-long... Oh well, if they keep doing that 'make fun of' bullcrap, I'm coming for them. I don't care if I get suspended again, ima do it!
It doesn't matter, no one's going to pay any attention to them. I wash my hands clean anyways, but don't bother with the nail polish.
Well, I've got extra time, so why not see what's going on in the world? I turn on my tablet to see blaring news about the Reaping and how it starts today. Oh, really? This must be the party my dad wanted me to attend, a 'Thank Goodness it's Reapings' party. It's the only logical explanation.
I might be doing something illegal here, but to be completely honest… I don't like the Hunger Games. Before you freak out and report me to the government, please listen! I started watching them at five years old, and I knew it was kinda maniacal and demonic to like this stuff. There was so much blood, and gore… although that's actually not the reason why I hated them so much. It's so saddening when little children die, only twelve or thirteen years old. They don't have a chance, how do you expect them to fight?! It just seems so wrong!
Of course, I'd be raining down hate if I could. But if I do, I'll probably get arrested and everyone will hate me. I care too much about my reputation. Well, not that I have one, but…
Anyways. I'm getting off track here. The point is, I hate the fact that the Hunger Games kill of small, defenseless tributes. If I ever had to participate, I'd probably round the smaller ones all into a little safe house, and leave them alone. I don't want it to come down to me and a weak, twelve year old. I wouldn't have the heart to kill him or her.
Yes, I can kill. I've killed before, usually with Salvador on a field trip into District Seven woods and hunting animals. I've also done it with my dad, since he's a trainer for the tributes and he wants me to become one one day. I honestly don't want to, but I do want to make my father proud. I found out I was pretty handy with an axe and tomahawks. Still nothing compared to the experienced, bloodthirsty Careers… it makes me shiver thinking about them.
Doo-doo-doo doo-doo-doo-do-do! My phone starts ringing, and I pick it up to find out the recipient is my dad. "Dad, what do you need?" I mumble boredly. Instantly, I cringe. Dad doesn't like it when I speak quietly. Shoot.
Thankfully, it doesn't seem like he notices. "Your mother and I are already at Willow's Corner Park. We'll see you shortly." Then he hangs up.
Willow's Corner Park? That's just a memoir for a tribute with a whole bunch of kills. Did Mom really plan this party over there?
Oh, well. A party's a party. If my parents put it there, that's where I'm going. I give myself a final touch-up and leave for Willow's Corner Park.
The streets are crowded as heck. I push my way past the rainbow-colored crowd until finally I see a line of people.
It can't possibly be that my parents invited this many people! In fact, this is all of Sector One. And they really came?! All of them freaking came?
Great, I grumble negatively. It's gonna be an hour before I can even catch a glimpse of them.
I gather behind the line behind a tall girl. She's wearing a peacock dress and her face looks like one of those sugar skulls.
Finally, I get somewhere with the line. A lady held some type of needle, and all she said was, "Finger." I gave her my thumb and she extracted some red liquid. I felt my thumb getting sore. Is this for security? Mom could go crazy with security, but this is just unnecessary.
Someone pushes me towards a group of girls who look my age. Reluctantly, I follow them with my head down. This sucks. I don't even know what's happening.
A loud, blaring voice comes out of nowhere. "Welcome, Capitolites. You may remember me as District One's escort, Julia Diamante…"
This is proof my parents really went too far. Real life model, one of the Capitol's very own escort!
Unless…
"And you're probably wondering; Why am I here? Well, I'm proud to announce it's time for the 152nd Hunger Games, or, will be better known off as the Second Capitol Games."
Oh, my gawd. What the hell?! The Games. It's returned to the Capitol, for the second time-
"I told you! I told you all motherfu-" I hear a male voice say from the other side of the crowd. I start to tune out of it; I was never one for cursing.
The escort continues on as normal. "Lalo Ayers!"
The same boy mutters something under his breath, and slowly walks to the stage. I can see his hands are trembling, and his feet are shaking. His bright blue eyes stare at the ground wavering, but unblinking. I have to clench my fists to keep from wobbling over myself. This boy might not be twelve or thirteen, but I still felt bad for him.
"Oooookay!" Julia lightly claps her hands together once, and moves on to another bowl; the girl's bowl, I presume. She dips her finger in, and takes a slip out daintily. I felt as if the world just slowed down.
"Kuna Grace. Beautiful name."
A/N: Sector One Reapings, DONE! Thank you to CreativeAJL and Jms2 for wonderful tributes :D The reason it looks formatted weird is because I'm trying to look professional, but failing miserably. I keep telling myself it looks good. Sure, Brooke. Keep lying to yourself. Smh, it doesn't matter. If you like, I keep. If you hate, I stomp on it and make sure it's dead forever. So, that'll be a question because that's just the conceited person I am. I'm droning, aren't I? Hahah. *wastes your time* Also, expect an update like by mid of November or sooner… This is mainly because I still have to finish that other SYOT I'm STILL working on, heheh. Sorry 'bout that... And, did you know that spots 3M, 5M, 6M, 8M, 9F, 10M, 10F, 11M and 11F are still open?!
#1: Who do you prefer? Lalo or Kuna? (I can't freaking answer, because I love them both.)
#2: Why do you like them better?
#3: Who do you think will last longer?
#4. Predictions?
BONUS: Do you like the format?
