2.
People crowd the streets as I dread the next hour of my life with all that I have. I focus on my breathing—slow, steady breaths to assure myself that I can handle it. Somehow I just have to convince myself that I'm not going to be chosen. That this will all just blow over soon and I can return home to…to Toothless…
A peacekeeper strolls hurriedly by me then brushes my shoulder with his and in an instant he shoves very hard against me. I groan a little and glare at him; only he beats me to it. His eyes are like cold metal, harsh to look at and chilling to the bone. I turn my gaze away and pretend it didn't happen. Messing with any of the peacekeepers usually means certain death. If one foot is placed out of line, it's the stockades or the firing squad. Plenty more of the white-suited men are stomping around the district, watching us, being sure that everyone who still has breath in their lungs shows up to the reaping.
My rapidly beating heart doesn't slow. I feel like maybe I should fall over, pretend to be knocked out or even dead so maybe I won't have to be here. Obviously that couldn't work; they would find some way to force me against my will. No matter what—every single person in the district is to be there when they announce the new tributes.
Out of nowhere among the crowd, I hear my name being called. "Hieden!"
It's the girl, Astrid. She's breathing heavily like me, her breath forming into puffs of white near her chapped lips. "Hieden, you didn't let me thank you for yesterday…"
I look ahead of her as she has stopped me from continuing to the event. I'm a little thankful for this momentary pause from the nightmare. "It's nothing," I say to her, knowing that it was in fact, something, but not really having the courage to accept her kindness.
She shakes her head, her braid shifting from each of her shoulders like a wagging tail. "You don't know how happy my family was to have the meal." I nod slightly, trying not to look in her eyes. I can't for some reason. The gratitude makes me feel uncomfortable. "The rest of my family is already at the reaping. I told them I was going to go look for you. Do you want to walk together?" Her eyes are blue with a hint of green, reminding me of my own. This girl could probably be beautiful, though that's only a fleeting thought.
We are walking again soon and the anxiety creeps back with a vengeance. My nails are biting into my palms leaving marks that hurt, but at least it gives me something else to focus on. There are lines of children—all young, and all possible tributes. They're rowed up for the finger pricking. This part isn't so bad; it doesn't hurt much, only a little blood is shed. I think it's for documentation and identification, something along those lines. But again, I hate that the bastards do it. They treat us like test subjects, taking blood samples for their senseless games.
I step in front of Astrid because I notice her trembling. She smiles a little at me and I stare vacantly ahead, attempting to focus on how cold it is or which way the wind is blowing. The line moves quickly, they take no care in handling us even with such delicate things as blood samples.
The white jacketed capitol member holds out their hand, moving their fingers in an abrupt way, motioning for me to give them my pointer finger. With regret, I do as I'm told and the prick hurts a little, I notice the small imprints my nails have left in my palm. Quickly they stamp it onto a piece of paper, along with hundreds of others and I move along. My feet stop and I turn a little to see Astrid flinching out of the corner of my eye. She must be squeamish.
The blond girl approaches me and I continue to walk again, keeping a slow pace. In the long run, we have to separate; the girls and boys are on opposite sides.
"Don't be scared," I tell her softly, reaching for her wrist at the last second. I don't know why I say this; perhaps I'm terrified and not thinking. Or maybe I just want to know that someone else can be less frightened than me.
Her throat makes a small noise and she nods, I notice her eyes are watering a little. Inside, I can tell she is about to snap. We feel the same. Scared to the bone at what could become of this day.
The odds are in my favor, seeing as how I haven't had to put my name in more times for the tesserae. Astrid is in trouble though, along with tons of other girls and boys, I'm sure. Why, then am I so scared? Every year is the same and every time I hear someone else's name get called, I heave a sigh of relief.
Thank god it's not me.
Thank god I'm not going to die yet.
Thank god I'm not in the games this year.
I wait patiently for those thoughts to run through my head again as I take my spot in the crowd, standing by a boy who smells and another who is a foot taller than me. I pretend to act normal around them for unknown reasons. I have no need to impress anyone. If my bravery is seen, no one will even care.
I feel as if I can hear everyone's heavy breathing. The wind has picked up, blowing cold air through the only pair of nice jeans I own. The shirt is also dressy. The only time I wear these is to the reaping's. After this, seeing as how it's my last year, I'm going to burn these clothes and smile as I do. The boy's hand to my right is shaking uncontrollably. It is good to know I'm not the only one basically pissing my fancy pants.
All eyes go to a woman who comes onto the stage. I can see pretty well, being decently tall. The words that I think of when I see this woman are vulgar and cruel. She's dressed as a fairy, huge wings cascading from her back, her outfit green and blue and yellow, causing my eyes to feel violated. I haven't seen such bright colors since last year when she was dressed in an all red outfit with long pinwheels attached to her shoulder blades, spinning as she walked.
Her name is Thiana Tooth and everyone in our district hates her guts. She's excitable and loud, obnoxious and downright full of herself. Whenever she speaks on the microphone I shudder and my insides churn.
"Hello, all! And welcome to the sixty-third annual Hunger Games reaping!" Thiana declares, once again being as flamboyant as ever. It seems as though she has gotten a tad bit gaudier since last year, I note. No one applauds, no one shouts or screams or begs for more. Everyone's as silent as mice, standing with vacant expressions on their faces. Some are crying already, others still holding back tears. I search for Astrid amongst the crowd, but can't seem to find her. My attention is brought back to the stage as the obnoxious woman begins to speak again. "As most of you know, today is the day that two of you will be allowed to travel to the capitol and participate in the games!"
She sounds so damn excited. I'd like to see her in the games. Maybe someone would rip off one of those wings and choke her to death with it. My thoughts drift a little as she continues to speak about the games. A picture of the president appears on a large screen, the image moving, his sneer and dark eyes roaming over us like cattle. I imagine ripping his throat out with my teeth, biting down hard and tearing out his jugular. My k-9s clench inside my mouth, my jaw line setting and clicking. He deserves it. I would merit every fucking second of his torturous pain.
I glare at him and hope he can see me. I want to flip my middle finger up towards it, but refrain. If I did something like that, the peacekeepers might want to kill me. And I don't plan on dying just yet.
The president is speaking and it seems every time he does I feel the need to vomit. "Panem thanks you, tributes. Your courage and sacrifice will be revered."
Revered my ass. All that guy wants is to see innocent people die, I growl to myself, angrily spitting on the ground.
"Thank you, President Pitch!" Thiana claps, sounding oddly noisy in the dismal space. "Now!" I swallow thickly, sensing my pulse soar. "The tributes will be chosen! Girl's before boys, of course."
I can barely watch as the woman proceeds to reach her hand into a large glass bowl. It is filled about halfway with small paper slips, names written on each one, some more than others.
My eyes are closed now as I attempt to breathe normally. I'm hardly familiar with any of the girls in the village, so the chance of me knowing who it is will be quite slim.
Just not Astrid, please, the thought goes through my mind in an instant, and in the next, her name is announced.
"Astrid Hofferson!"
My breathing is uneven and rapid. I want to see her. I have to.
Where is she?!
My eyes are frantic, searching everywhere for the unfortunate girl. She's got to be crying. She's probably shocked beyond belief.
Dammit, I cringe and fold in on myself, clutching my arm to my side in order to force myself to stay put.
"Come on up here, dearie!" Thiana acts as if the girl has just won an award, not a death sentence. I watch with fearful eyes as the blonde makes her way onto the platform. Her eyes are cold and emotionless. She looks as if she hasn't accepted it yet. I haven't either. I'm pissed beyond reason, my hands clenching and unclenching at my sides. She doesn't deserve this. That girl has done nothing to anyone and she's being sent to die, to be slaughtered on national television.
This is bullshit. Fucking bullshit.
I want to shout and scream at the top of my lungs for all to hear. I want to strangle the woman on stage that is standing so close to the innocent girl I had so recently shared my food with at lunch and seen shortly after I had found my father to be dead. She's wearing the gloves I gave her. My heart clenches tight in my chest.
"Congratulations, Astrid!"
I hear crying in the crowd and my eyes reel towards a few girls who are clinging to each other. Both have similar blonde hair tied in braids. Her sisters. One is the small girl who had greeted me so cheerfully at the door to her dairy shop. I'm sure that smile will be gone for quite a while now.
Astrid eyes are staring off into the distance and for a moment I think she meets mine. My eyes are as compassionate as can be. This girl is doomed. She can hardly stand a finger prick.
"Boys are next!" Thiana's voice is like grating sandpaper to my ears. Disgust enters my body when she reaches those long finger nailed hands into the bowl.
My stomach is full of nothing aside from nausea.
In the next few moments, I realize that the odds stopped being in my favor a long time ago.
"Hieden Haddock!"
And I think to myself automatically, I knew it. I fucking knew it.
A smile crosses my face and I push aside the few kids beside me. They look at me with grief but also indebtedness. They're so glad it isn't them walking up to that stage. I could be one of them. I used to be one of them, last year and the years before that. Watching as the newly named tribute nervously trips up to the stage and stands there, dazed and mortified, their lives just then coming to an end. You figure it takes a while for them to realize that they have been condemned to die. But I know what is happening.
I know that I'm a new tribute in the Hunger Games. I do not look scared as I stand beside Astrid Hofferson. My eyes are as cold as ice, focused on the horizon and the way the sun peaks out from behind the grayish cloud.
My hands are not shaking anymore—I know my fate is sealed. For some reason, my apprehension is drifting away. I look down towards the girl and she seems petrified still. So without much thought, I reach down and grab her gloved hand. People are staring at us, watching intently. I see a few of her family members and notice they are still crying, but also seem a bit hopeful at my act of kindness towards their loved one.
"Don't be scared," I repeat again to her, whispering the words as Thiana stares awkwardly and attempts to congratulate me as well.
A tear runs down Astrid's cheek, streaking her pale skin in its wake. I know she can't speak right now—she's too frightened. But instead of crumbling more and more, she stiffens and stands up straight. A half smile tugs at my lips but it vanishes within an instant. I think I see her mother and she's so miserable. Her eyes scream out to me and I grip Astrid's hand tighter.
"Ladies and gentleman! Our district three tributes!" The showy woman claps again but no one in the crowd follows suit. There is a sense of sorrow in the air that cannot be cured. Not by shiny lights or flashy clothing. Not by millions of dollars or fake promises and lies.
A mother has lost her child and it is nothing to applaud about.
The Capitol's anthem starts playing and I want to cover my ears as I have before. I refrain, however. There will be cameras on us from here on out. I can't afford to look weak in front of those jerks.
Astrid and I are separated when the song ends, each of us marched into the building attached to the stage. I wasn't sure what it was used for, maybe some kind of office or peacekeeper headquarters.
I am shoved into an empty room that is dimly lit, the window high up and foggy from the cold outside. My eyes scan my surroundings. There is carpet—actual carpet, and a few comfy looking chairs. It's also quite warm, but I spot no fireplace. There must be central heating. I've never been anywhere so luxurious. Maybe in my boss's office, but definitely nowhere normal in district three. I suddenly notice how quiet it is. I start to become a little nervous. The door opens and I jolt a little, startled by the unexpected noise.
"They went to your house but no one was home. It seems no one can find your parents," a peacekeeper tells me. He is wearing a helmet that shields his eyes from view but shows his mouth.
I remain calm as I answer him, "They are dead and I have no siblings."
A gruff reply, "Any other family?"
"No," I say.
He nods and exits the room, leaving me alone again. I find myself sighing and my stomach rumbles loudly. I don't think I've eaten in at least two or three days. My head is pounding but my heart rate is slow and steady. I try not to think about death, as much as it lingers over my head like an angry storm cloud.
To my right, I hear voices. There is crying and wailing. I can't make out much of it so I lean my head against the wall and listen.
"I love you mom…"
"I love you too, Astrid…"
My nails tear at my chest where my heart is, gripping the shirt firmly in my hand. I want to punch a hole through the wall, but that would only frighten them. I breathe in steady breaths to keep myself from kicking the door down. More long minutes pass by, in which I hear Astrid's small voice speaking a little through the wall. She's still crying, sobbing uncontrollably. I hear her door open a few more times as I walk up to my own and jiggle the handle. It's locked, of course. I have no one to visit me, no family and no friends who really, truly care.
I can't even say goodbye to Toothless…I think with some tears in my eyes.
I am left with nothing apart from my thoughts, which I am trying so hard to avoid.
The odds are twenty-four to one. But if I count Astrid as my ally—someone I'm not going to kill, it gives me a miserable twenty-three to two. Can I really count on that girl in the arena…? Even if she does help, she may end up being the only one left in the end and I'll have to…
I stop myself short as I begin to think too violently—much too quick. I'll have plenty of time for that while in the capitol.
Wait…that's right. I get to see the capitol, I think suddenly.
It's a dream come true, minus the ominous death verdict, of course. I attempt to ready myself for what's about to happen. I'm going to be able to see the great city of riches. Apparently, I've heard they have floating cars and fire-breathing dragons. Though those are just stories. The only people who have seen the capitol and came back to tell the tale are the victors of the games. The ones who win and are allowed to live in the huge, magnificent mansions that stand just by the city's border. They call it the Victor's Village, as I mentioned before. Pretty clichéd. There are a few victors from district three, I remember. We always have to greet them when they come home, looking as if they had come back from a beauty pageant and not a death match. I'm not looking forward to being dressed up to look like one of their plastic dolls.
The door unlocks again in the next moment and I'm not as shocked as before. But when I see who it is, my demeanor changes instantly.
Astrid's mother stands there with a tear soaked face and swollen red eyes. My heart feels heavy as she walks towards me, the door closing behind her small frame. She seems worn down, much more than her daughters, her braid turning gray with her age. She's fragile looking, like a glass figurine.
I swallow; my mouth is so very dry.
In the next moment, she is hugging me and I'm slightly perplexed. I let my body relax a little, feeling quite strange that this woman is embracing me in such a manner. Though somewhere in the deep depths of my wounded heart, it feels nice to be embraced…And I'm reminded of my own mother. I fight back the tears with all I have at the sudden pain that erupts in my chest.
She then begins to cry on my shoulder and my nervous hand hovers up to pet the back of her head. "I will do everything I can to keep your daughter alive," I tell her with some kind of strange assurance I didn't know I had.
She gasps in a sob, her body shaking. "Thank...thank you…" She is barely audible. The woman wipes a tattered sleeve across her face when she backs away from me. I try on a smile and for a moment, I could have sworn she gave me one back.
I think almost an hour passes by after Astrid's mother visited me. I'm tired and so very hungry. Finally, the crying in the other room stops and my door opens soon afterwards.
"This way, now," says a callous looking man, gesturing towards the hallway with his large hand. I begin to walk and he follows behind me, his toes often hitting my heels from being so close. They don't have to worry about me running away from this. Every bone in my body is telling me that I'm ready. At least I won't have to be home anymore. At least I won't have to look at the place my father died any longer or remember the violent death of my young mother in the town square which I frequently pass by.
District three will be a distant memory now, I thought with a bit of a cynical attitude. I could think that all I wanted, but in the end, everything would be a memory, including me.
We arrive at the train station where reporters are flocking towards us. Astrid is at my side, her arm clinging to mine, terror stained in her eyes. She seems like a small animal when I look towards a TV that is hanging on a wall, portraying the two of us on the screen. I look fearless though, which I commend myself for.
Everyone is shouting and my ears hurt. I'm sick of the idiots taking pictures and filming us as if we're some undiscovered talent brought to their eyes at last. We're only kids. Scared, traumatized kids.
Both the blonde and I are then shoved onto the train after the peacekeepers fight off the band of reporters and paparazzi.
It's really warm on the train, a shock to me and probably Astrid too. The speed at which we're going is shocking too, my insides feel a little funny but only at the mention of the vehicle traveling more than two hundred and fifty miles an hour. Apparently we'll be at the capitol in about a day and a half. Everything is sparkling as well, so it seems. Even the train has carpet. I feel the need to take off my shoes and run my toes through it, if only for a moment. The girl is still clinging to me as Thiana shows us around the train. There are rooms, about five or six, with private bathrooms in each.
"There's hot and cold water for showers, so you two can get all cleaned up," the fairy woman says as we follow not too closely behind her. She smells like cough medicine. Even though we have to stay in the same car as this dense woman, we each look at each other in astonishment at the mention of hot water. If I take anything from this horrible stroke of bad luck, it will be to experience a warm shower.
Thiana finishes her tour and then tells us to go get washed up for dinner. I can hardly wait to eat.
"Go shower and I'll meet you in your room when I'm done, alright?" I tell the frightened girl. She's still very shaken up, but she manages another nod and then disappears into the room.
The hot water on my head is heavenly, but the device is strange and foreign to use. There are so many different buttons that I accidentally start playing loud, obnoxious music and cannot figure out how to turn it off for almost a minute.
When I dry off, I check inside the large dresser and find a pair of tailored jeans and a black shirt that fit me comfortably. I notice my reflection in the mirror. It's so gigantic and I'm not used to seeing my full body like this. My big eyes blink as I stare at myself. I dare to think that I'm handsome, albeit on the skinny side, if that's not too conceited. Clothes like these are very hard to find in district three—nearly impossible. I have been wearing the same outfit for almost a month anyway, so it's different seeing my body like this.
With a slight shake of my hair, I exit the room and walk straight across the hall into Astrid's. She's still showering so I sit on the bed and wait. I admire the paintings on the walls and the soft silk beneath my fingertips. It's like being in some kind of fantasy storybook—with a terrible plot twist.
The blonde exits the bathroom with just a towel on and locks her eyes on me. Her cheeks turn an instant shade of pink and she says nothing as she goes to the dresser to get some clothes.
I try to stop myself from laughing. "Sorry, I'm not looking," I say as I turn my whole body and face away from her.
She's still quiet and I'm smiling a little.
When she's clothed, we both return to the dining room and sit down at the table. I'm as far away from Thiana as possible so I won't risk stabbing her in the throat with a fork. Astrid pulls her chair a little closer to me I notice, as the food is brought out.
At first I was very impressed with the shower, but the food wins me over in an instant. Everything is so warm and delicious; I begin eating as if I'd never been taught proper table manners in my life. I consume turkey legs and hot onion stew, then pickled plums and hash browns, along with ice cream cake and chocolate truffles for desert.
Astrid is eating, but very slowly and not as much as I am. I knock her leg under the table with my knee and she instantly looks towards me.
"If you want to stay strong, you have to eat as much as you can. You need to put on some weight," I murmur to her. Astrid seems apprehensive but continues to eat, a little faster this time. I place some more turkey and steak on her plate as she does. Thiana scoots to the far end of the table to eat with a few other capitol dressed people. She appears disgusted by my eating habits. When she looks at me again with those scrutinizing eyes I flip her off, gravy dangling off my chin and dripping onto my plate. It feels good to finally get away with that.
After stuffing our faces, Astrid looks sick. I feel it too. The food was amazing, but too rich and sweet for our stomachs.
"Try to keep it down," I say to her while burping slightly.
Her eyes shine and she just nods at me again. I wonder when she'll start speaking.
They make us watch the other reaping's now on a large television placed in front of a comfortable couch. The girl sits down beside me, her leg brushing against mine. I don't take much notice in it, only what's on the screen. We see district one, the two chosen look big and tough. I've been told before that the tributes from district one and two are trained in a special school; I think they call themselves careers. They volunteer for the games, as if it's some kind of sick sport they can't wait to take part in. Thiana joins us soon, along with a few of her friends to watch the broadcasts. They're laughing and giggling to each other, I make sure to frown at them as much as possible. I feel Astrid's fingers clench around my sleeve, pulling a little.
"What's wrong?" I whisper to her.
She's not looking at me, just the TV set and I see why she's upset. It's showing district three now and I watch as it displays the horrified look that had overtaken Astrid's face when she was called. She trips a little while walking up to the stage and I can barely watch. When Thiana calls my name I'm still watching, it's not so bad once I grab Astrid's hand and tell her to not be scared. We exit and everything fades to black then it goes on to district four. Not much catches my eye until district seven comes on the screen. Everything is fine, but when the boy is summoned, things get a little out of hand. His name is Jackson Overland and I watch as he storms up to the stage and furiously takes his place beside the timid looking girl who I guess is probably only twelve. The white haired boy is about my age and I notice he's very good-looking. A few screams are heard and then, without any forethought it seems, Jackson reaches for the microphone and screams into it.
It's censored so I can't hear his vulgarity, "BEEP this! BEEP the capitol! Think I'll just stand here and take this BEEP! BEEP you! And BEEP president Pitch, you BEEPing BEEP!"
He's ushered out of the room by a few guards and the petite girl is left standing there with tears streaming down her face.
"Holy shit…" I say out loud, a little muttered under my breath.
"I know someone who would get along with that boy," Thiana speaks up and they all share a laugh.
Ha ha, I think sarcastically. I turn towards her, giving her the blankest stare I can muster while raising my eyebrow. I want to throw the remote at the woman, but also don't want to get in any trouble, especially with Astrid sitting right beside me.
So I choose to ignore her after that and focus on the reaping's, even if I hate them. I see a few more people I take note of in my head—Laura Kaelea from eight who has very sharp teeth and a crooked smile. Ethan Cass from ten who keeps a huge grin on the whole time while on stage. Maurice Kaspar from eleven who is tall and broad and seems almost too brave. I then realize that I'll be seeing all of these people very soon, and eventually…one of them is probably going to kill me.
Or I'll be killing them.
I can hardly picture myself actually killing someone, even if they were about to murder me. These are just kids. Most of them just want to go home and be with their families. None of them deserve to die or be killed by my hands.
It's the capitol who's really killing them, I tell myself as the broadcast finally ends and we are addressed by Thiana once again.
"Now!" she claps her hands together and I hate her even more for being so fucking bubbly even when she's not on camera. "Eret Gareth will be your mentor for the games, if I could just find him, I'll introduce you two."
A few of her friends call for the man who eventually appears from one of the dark hallways, a loud yawn resounding from his lips. He's dressed in slacks, comfy looking pants that hang on his hips and threaten to fall off his frame. He's not wearing a shirt, but his body isn't bad to look at. I stare a little and then look at his face. His nose is pierced and he has ashy hair that is a tad bit messy. He's probably in his early thirties. Generally, he's not at all bad looking, but obviously tired.
"The hell do ya want? I'm trying to fuckin' sleep here," the man growls while leaning against the wall nearest to him. His eyes encounter mine and I'm slightly intimidated. This is one of the victors—someone who survived the games and has been living in one of the mansions in the Victor's Village. They become the tributes mentors, a person who helps coach them on what they need to know about the games. An inside scoop on things. If I were him, I'd probably be a little more grateful. At least he's still alive. I wonder just what kind of guy he is and how much help he's going to be.
"Oh stop complaining. You have to meet the new tributes!" Thiana exclaims as she gestures for him to sit down.
The man suddenly begins to laugh, startling everyone in the room including myself. "I'll pass," he ultimately says and retreats to his room once again, slamming the door loudly so all of us can hear.
Thiana looks towards me and states, "I suppose you'll have to wait until breakfast. Honestly, that man is absolutely the worst!" Her friends agree with her and she then tells us to just get some sleep, but be up by eight for breakfast.
Astrid and I get up from the sofa and meander our way back to our rooms. Before entering mine, the small girl grabs ahold of my shirt and halts me.
I sigh a bit and turn around to face her. "What's wrong?" She looks pained, her eyes focused on our socks. I think she's crying, but I can't really tell. Her breathing seems inconsistent and she doesn't speak. I take her wrist in my hand and pull on it so her eyes come across mine. "I told your mom I would do anything in my power to protect you in the games, but you have to try too, Astrid. You can't be this scared little girl anymore. I told you to be strong, so show it. Show me you can be tough like I know you are." She begins to cry and I keep talking, the words flowing from my mouth like an untamed water fall, "You've taken care of your family all this time. You risked your life for them by putting your name in the reaping. You stood up to the capitol by working in that dairy and you walked onto this train, knowing you might never come back." I turn around, away from her and let her go. Her arm falls to her side and I can't see them, but I feel she continues to look at me with those sullen eyes. I utter one more thing before turning in for the night, "Do not fear death. Live the rest of your life with your head held high and never let them know that you're afraid. Show them that they can't just push us around. Let those bastards know that they don't own us."