The reaping... dun dun dun... Hunger Games is not mine.
Sedna begins crying next to me. I pick her up and lay her on my shoulder she's almost three years old but she is suffering in her head. My father went on a drunken rampage one night. I remember running and crying at the neighbor's house with my body covered in blood as I explained how my father was trying to kill us all. I almost break into tears right in this room thinking about how damaged my baby sister has become. I refuse to think about it anymore though.
I put on my reaping outfit with one hand. It is a nice formal outfit, usually worn for weddings or funerals a little gray and frayed because of time. The Capitol forces us to go to the reaping dressed up and looking nice for the camera. The cameras. I hold my little sister as I look around the house. Her crying has stopped. The house is empty. I only ponder where my father and mother are for a moment and then ignore it.
"Who cares," I say to myself. I feed my little sister her food and pick the untouched swordfish off the table and carry the trident. I have about an hour before the reaping begins. I find Grandma C's shop and hand her the fish and the supplies. She looks at me with a sad look she only has on reaping days. I know she lost her son to the Games. I give her a reassuring smile that I give everyone. She takes Sedna out of my arms and pats her back as I eat some more chowder.
An applause comes from outside and Grandma C, holding my sister, and I walk through the crowds of people. I wave goodbye as I find myself to the table, check my name, and am led to the group of other 14 year olds. There are 12 groups of kids. Ages 12 to 18, girls and boys separated. We are all hushed down, and I squint to look at the city hall building, our mayor lives there. You can't really see the building, there are three large TV screens set up to each side. There are also cameras on the tops of all the buildings, just itching to catch our reactions. I see a large blue figure on the stage. A booming voice fills our district.
"Cherished and honorable greetings to you all! I am pleased to be in District 4 yet again! As I am sure all of you are curtly aware of today, it is the beginning of the 65th Hunger Games!" A small roar of applause comes from the audience. I have to force myself to clap. Since the games are typically in our favor, most of us act like we enjoy them. I remember the blue figure from a few years ago. Thomps is his name, he's the man who keeps our tributes on schedules when they're selected. He has a demanding and sinister voice, making it all the more creepy when he speaks with that weird Capitol accent.
"Let us all make a warm welcome for your returning mentor and victor, Mags!" I actually clap for her, she was a tribute from, oh wow, how long ago... let's just say she's a relic in the district. She mentors and helps the poor kids who are chosen as tributes. She doesn't smile, actually, it looks like she's grimacing on the TV screen.
Thomps continues to explain to us the reasons for why we are forced to fight – none of it interests me too much. They tell us that because of the war that started 65 years ago, every year since all of the districts are forced to send one boy and girl into an arena and have those children fight to the death... until only one is left standing. This is the price we pay for losing the war. They tell us this every year, in case we forget while mourning our dead children.
Thomps makes his way to the reaping jar, where all of our names are. The ladies are first. Everyone is silent, hoping it's someone they don't know, hoping it's not them. For the first time I notice that Thomps has high shoes on that I typically see on women, it makes me want to laugh until the gravity of these games comes back to me.
"Nicky Klytie!" Thomps yells as she reads out the name. The crowd opens for the 16 year old, so she can make her way to the stage. She is fighting tears, I can see it in her face.
"Congratufantanulousations my dear!" He yells flamboyantly as he begs the audience to clap for the scared girl. I think he just spit on the crowd in front of him. We clap slowly and quietly. Loud wails are heard in the crowd and are quickly quieted by a Peacekeeper. Now for the moment that gets my heart pumping. The boys.
I look around at my group, I see the 12 and 13 year olds before me, clutching to one another. Us, in the 14 year old group stand strong, even though our eyes say something different. Behind us I know the 18 year olds are praying that this is it, they will not have been called for 6 years of their lives and they will be done and allowed to live their lives. I wish I was them.
I think about the odds, the horrible tag line the Capitol gives us. "May the odds ever be in your favor." I am rolling the dice right now. I see Thomps pull out a name. I pray my odds are good. I glance up to the stage, unable to hear anything, until I see the screen. I see my name, and I know that the odds were wrong.
The boys in my group push my out into the front. I see crying females, and cheering males. I wonder if the cameras think this makes me popular. My ears have switched off as I try to make my way up the stairs. I remember the tributes from years before – look strong, look strong, I keep repeating in my head.
I don't know the 16 year old, but Thomps grabs our hands and shows us to the audience who seem to be in an uproar. We are quickly led inside the city hall and into separate rooms. I've never noticed the beauty of the hall before. It is old, but has thick white molding that pays tribute to the sea. I actually like it. Grandma C barges in. Her eyes are very wet as she embraces me for a long and hard amount of time.
"You only have three minutes. Please, Finnick. You are strong, handsome, the crowd will love you. I love you." She hugs me close and I am coming to tears. She pulls back, "you can not cry." She wipes my eyes and kisses my cheek. "I will take care of Sedna. You are such a golden boy." She gulps down, throwing all these things at me, moaning loudly in pain as we both try to extinguish the tears. "My son died in these games, please Finncik try -" A peacekeeper comes in and begins to pull Grandma C out. I reach out and grab her hand pulling tightly as I kiss her forehead and kiss Sedna as she begins to cry.
My mind is swirling with thoughts. Most of them are questions I can never answer: Why?
Why had Grandma C never told me in detail about her son, where were my parents, why is she taking care of Sedna? Of course all of these questions are forgotten or at least put on hold as Nicky and I are loaded into a train. I had never been this far past the square. Odd how you live in an area your whole life and never inspect the biggest area, besides the wharfs, of your town. The train station is large, and well used. Not by anyone of little importance though, only high classy titles get to use it. Most of us are forced to stay in the district. Tributes, politicians, people from the Capitol – those are the people who get to use the trains.
My mouth drops at what I see as we step inside a passenger train. It's gorgeous. Plush couches, with soft velvety green – the color of home. Already I feel home-sick though, and we haven't even left 4 yet. The walls are draped in a white cloth as pure as the sky. I look out the window. District 4. I was leaving them, and going to what? My death. I searched the crowds for the girl from the beach, what is her name? As I watch the train starts to move the drapes are closed. I turn and see everyone sitting at a table.
"Come join us, pretty boy." The words sting, but I listen to Nicky's suggestion and join them. We sit at the table and are served decadence on a plate. Long strands of noodles, these small white grains I have never seen before, and meat. Meat! I have eaten lots of fish, but meat from animals is rare. Besides rats... if your catches are particularity bad on a day in the ship, you tend to ignore the fact that these rodents are crawling with disease and cook them. Not my favorite, but I am told that we're eating a creature called a deer. Never seen those on the beach.
Thomps explains how he has the best of all the worlds, and how adorable the tributes always look when they see the new foods. Then he thanks us for not being like some of the starving 'twit' tributes, his words not mine, in the later districts, particularly 10, 11, and 12. I think about those districts, factories, coal, orchards. They're never too popular. I begin eating the deer when they bring out dessert. My mouth begins dripping. Chocolate. The only time I had had that before was when we traded with those hairy strangers out in the ocean. I reach out to grab the whole cup as Nicky looks at me like I'm crazy.
"It's the best stuff in the world!" I hold the bowl to her taunting her to try it. She scoops a finger in the melted brown goo and I can tell the exact second when the sweetness has just hit the tip of her tongue. We both dig into the pot now. If we did have acceptable manners before, they were gone now as we lick this bowl of chocolate and order more. Surely the Capitol has plenty to share with us.
I watch our mentor laugh at us. She reminds me of Grandma C. An old lady. Mags. How did she even win the games? I proceed to ask her when the next bowl of chocolate is brought out. She smiles at me as I lick it up.
She just keeps smiling, her eyes are almost gone when her wrinkly face presses into that smile.
"How do we win?" Nicky asks as she places the bowl of chocolate down looking at the smiling old lady. I understand her question... of course we have to kill the all tributes from the 11 other districts, but by means of winning there are no real rules. She ponders the question, understanding what I do, but Thomps speaks up.
"You don't die... you've watched the games before."
"No, she doesn't mean it like that. We want to know secrets. What do we grab, what don't we do. Of course we know what we've seen on TV, but how do you really win. How do you defeat the others."
"Water." Mags smiles. I nod and Nicky looks in confusion.
"What about the water? We find it or we use it? How do we know if it will be there?" She seems frustrated with Mags's one-worded answer.
"She means, we have to find it," I explain to her. Nicky shoots a look at me, and Mags nods. I feel a connection to her already. " Survival comes first?"
She nods.
Nicky throws her hands up, "Great! We have a mute mentor!" She starts walking out the car.
I shrug my shoulders and then copy Nicky's voice, "Great! We have an angry tribute!" I laugh and so does Mags. We smile at each other. Then I see a boot flying through the air. I catch right before it hits my face. I can hear an angry sigh from the next car knowing that I wasn't hit.
Thomps looks at me surprised, "you have some good reflexes? That'll come in handy." I look to Mags for reassurance. She nods. I continue asking the about basic theories I have and they are responded with a nod or angry shake of the head. I seem to have a good idea of what I need to do. I plan on winning no doubt. For Sedna and Grandma C. Why would I throw my life away? I am coming back a victor. So far, I know to make an alliance, one that is strong but easy to break off, I have to find water, particularly a place with fish, and I really need to play up my attractiveness and be promiscuous. This is how I get the audience to send me gifts. By this they mean I will have sponsors. Rich people in the Capitol who spend lots of money hoping I win, since they bet on us. And being attractive helps.
I make my way to my compartment when I see the Capitol coming into view. My mouth drops even further then it did when I saw the train. Gorgeous. One word. Millions of colors mixing together like a rainbow. The people, the people! I see them, crazy costumes, long lashes, white skin, they look crazy – but oh, how rich?! They begin screaming when I come out of the train. I remember watching the recap of my reaping on the TV, the announcers were thrilled I was picked, they kept commenting on the 'Handsome Poseidon'. They called me the God of the Sea. I had never been complimented like that before. And yet Mags's nods kept ringing in my head. Give the audience what they want, give them your body and face.
As the screaming Capitolians cheer my name I watch Nicky snake out behind me. She gives me a death glare, the kind a 16 year old would give a 14 year old getting all the attention. She was pretty though. She had bronze skin and bleach blond hair, but gray eyes, and a short body. The crowd wasn't cheering for her. I felt bad, until I notice she is a possible enemy. I actually don't even know her skill... I can make rope and throw sharp things with great accuracy. But what can she do? Maybe she is a valuable ally? Or maybe she's a kid set up to get killed at the Cornucopia. The bloodshed hidden in the meaning of that word makes me shiver, but I look at the crowd. I give them a cocky smile. I rip off the shirt covering my muscles and watch as the crowd swoons. I laugh and Mags gives me her smile of approval. We are led off the train to a hotel of sorts. I felt the tributes from 1 and 2 giving me a glare as well... everyone except the Sponsors and Mags seem out to get me right now – that'll change in the arena though.
We are led up a tube to the fourth floor. It is gorgeous, again, that word describes the Capitol. I slump back into a couch as they explain to us that training is tomorrow. Tonight we have the opening ceremonies, but there's not too much for us to worry about. Mags looks at Nicky and I intently. I question her.
"What is it Mags?" I give a concerned face, of real concern. This woman, so old, and so full of knowledge.
"Tridents." She stops takes a breath and another word comes out, "Knives." I know the tridents were directed to me, but what did it mean? And I never knew Nicky was good with knives.
She shakes her head, "I've only ever helped my dad clean the fish, I don't know how to do anything else with them." I ponder this. When I was younger Grandma C had taught me how to clean fish, the popular technique is called fileting. You cut the fish's skin and meat off to the bone. I thought about this in another concept – what kind of damage could you do to another human by fileting their body. I shudder. I question whether I should explain what Mags means by her statement. Isn't Nicky an enemy? Or perhaps, if I come off friendly, there could be that alliance I am supposed to make. And by the way people have looked at me, I know not too many people are keen on helping me.
"Filet a fish – think about it. What could you do if you got someone on the ground?" That's all I say until Nicky's eyes light up. Mags doesn't nod. I must have done something wrong. Was I not supposed to help her, or was I wrong in Mags's interpretation? No, I was right in interpretation.
Thomps speaks up, "Well here's my two cents – even though I could offer 2,000!" He laughs as we all stay silent, then he collects himself. "Go to survival skills, they're always empty, but it's important. Say there are no weapons for you Finnick? They'll teach you how to make traps, food is important too, what if there's no fish?" He gets distracted by the big bottle of wine that appears. He pours four glasses. "To us!"
I hold up my glass, never before have I drank wine before. Nicky drinks the glass before we even finish the toast and pours a new one. I watch sweat drip from her brow. She seems worried, scared even. I suppose I am too, but I keep getting distracted – how do I win, who do I please next, the game has already began for me.
"To us," I repeat. "To district four!" I add. Mags smiles at that. The wine tickles my brain and the room spins a bit. I know alcohol does stuff, I've watched my parents enough to know this – but I didn't know it did anything like this. I can't even hear really while I am pulled back to the elevator, as they call it, and am taken down to 'hair and makeup'.
