Chapter Two: The Reaping
Bryson and Jasmine waited solemnly, apart from each other but with feelings quite alike. Feelings of hatred for the Capitol, fear for their friends, fear for themselves. They stood in the square of District Nine attempting not to convey the emotion that threatened to tear them apart inside. They knew they could do it, just as they had every other year, so they waited in silence for the Capitol's representative stood up, dressed in a silly blue wig and matching sparkly trousers. She would've been quite a hilarious sight had she not been about to bring terrible news.
"Good afternoon and welcome to the Seventeenth Annual Hunger Games!" the representative announced in her ridiculous, high-pitched Capitol tone. The children listened to her blab on for a little while before she got down to what they were anxious to hear. "Let's cut down to the chase then shall we? Lucky ladies first!" The representative reached into the orbs with every girl's name on a slip of paper. Every child in the district, especially the girls, stood up that little bit straighter as the representative cleared her voice.
"And the lucky tribute from District Nine is… Jasmine Diamond!" the representative gushed. Jasmine sighed. It wasn't her, she thought, as she relaxed. And that was when someone poked her in the back.
"Jasmine, it's you. Jasmine." The voice said. And then it clicked, it WAS her. Jasmine's footsteps were wobbly as she make her way up to the stage, as emotionless as she could be. Her beautiful face blank, she stood on the stage, thanked the representative with hatred in her eyes, and watched as she pulled a name out of the boy's orb.
"Joining our female tribute, Jasmine, in her quest for triumph will be… Bryson Connor!" Bryson felt the urge to run, further, faster than he ever had before. He didn't want to do this, he didn't want to go there to die. He didn't want to die; did the Capitol not understand that?!? He deliberately slowed himself down on the way to the stage; he couldn't give himself away yet. He shook hand with the girl on stage but did not notice her beauty like he had so many times before; she was just a tribute now. Just another one of the living dead.
***
In District Four, the land of the volunteers, Rain was already praying for her brother's safety, and the Mayor hadn't even started his speech yet. But rain couldn't lose Aspen, not to the Games. But for once, time went so much faster than rain hoped they would, not like in classes, or awkward situations. Before she knew it, the lady in the crazy Capitol fashion was reaching her manicured, dyed hand into the Orb. Rain was so busy praying for Aspen she didn't even hear her name being called. But she was being pushed up, onto the stage. Rain only then realized how much danger she was in then. Then, for once, maybe in the history of the entire Games, there was not a single female volunteer for District Four. Rain was it, the living dead, the tribute. Still, she kept praying for Aspen. So she was relieved when some average Career named Aven stepped up. But nobody had stepped up for her.
***
Amara zoned out for the entire preamble to the Reaping in District Ten. She was just waiting for a female name to be called, so that she could rush up and gain her rightful place as a soon-to-be champion, a tribute. She was ready to bring the Capitol down. She was somewhat hopeful that her name would actually be called, so that she would not have to reveal exactly how dedicated to winning she was, that she was a force to be reckoned with, not just another tribute. But it wasn't her name that was called as a trembling eleven-year-old by the name of Daisy stumbled up in her oversized clothes, trembling, sobbing. Amara had a fleeting moment of pride as she realized that she would be doing good for others to, not just taking revenge. So when the question was asked of 'Are there any volunteers?" She raised her hand as high as she could, running up to the stage to take the girls' place, giving the small child a hug along the way, a small 'thank you' being whispered in Amara's ear. The family of the girl was thanking her silently, as were the rest of the district. But that was not Amara's motive. She spoke loudly and clearly into the microphone. "My name is Amara Vander. I volunteer as the female tribute for District Ten."
**********
Thanks for reading guys! An extra special shout out to soccergirl, whose review of my last chapter was what got this out so quickly!
xxo