District 2 Reaping
Eleanor Bradford, 17
District 2 Female
"Panem, may I introduce the Tributes from District 1, Atalanta Bliss and Caspar Ophir!" The ridiculously fairy-like escort for District 1 finishes on screen, the announcers making comments as District 1 applauds.
I stare at the TV while my father and fourteen year old sister applaud along. I'll be volunteering this year and they wanted to get a look at the competition. Honestly, I'm not too worried about the Games. My grandmother died a few months ago, and since then life hasn't quite seemed as real. I figure that even if something goes wrong, I'll see her again, and that if I win…well, there won't be anything to worry about then will there? I finger my earlobe, running my finger along the smooth silver curve of the largest hoop that adorns my left ear. That particular pair of earrings was her last gift to me.
Here in District 2, no one really understands why I have the piercings, but my grandmother did. It was just who I was, who I wanted to be, and she accepted that and supported me in all I did. Always remember who you are, she would say. Never lose sight of yourself.
"—ld be a threat," my sister Kendall finishes.
"What?" I say, suddenly jerked back to reality.
"I sad, 'The pair from One could be a threat'," she repeats. "Were you even listening?"
"No," I admit sheepishly.
"You need to pay more attention, Ellie," my father warns. "The Games are no joke."
"I know, I know," I scowl, crossing my arms and putting on a fearsome frown. My father isn't fooled. He's lived with me his whole life, naturally, considering I'm his daughter, and both he and my mother have seen my 'aggressive' act for what it is ever since I was little: an act.
"Ellie," he says, his voice warning. "This is serious."
"Honey," my mom pops her head in the door. "You need to go dress for the Reaping. Hurry up, you need to leave in less than twenty minutes!"
I stand up, brushing crumbs of breakfast off my lap. The Reapings are staggered throughout the day, starting with District 1 and moving in order, so that theoretically a Capitol citizen could watch them all. What it just ends up meaning for me is that there's barely time to check out my competition. That scares me. I'm good at gauging people, and not knowing what to expect makes me more than nervous. I finish brushing my hair until it gleams whitely against the low necked silver top that I'll be wearing. My entire outfit is pale, making the watercolor tattoo of a rose that sits just below my collarbone stand out.
Even my hair and skin are nearly white, and hopefully that will help me pull off my strategy. I plan to look like a weaker career until the time is right, then I'll run off and pick off the alliance and everybody else one by one. I made sure to focus on survival skills when I trained at the academy, and should be able to survive on my own for several days as long as the environment has some semblance to nature. I also am a strong swimmer, since my family is rather well off and owns a pool, so I have that advantage too. I ranked third in combat skills among all the girls in the district, and actually I would've been second if they'd judged me with the boys. That makes me happy. I can stand being beaten by girls, but by boys? Never.
The only boy in the district with better fighting skills than me is Mercury Medall, and no wonder. The guy's a professional fight starter, teaser, and trouble maker extraordinaire. We tend to compliment each other in a weird way since we are both masters of humor at other's expense and other so-called rudeness.
He's actually quite handsome, and I just might have the teeniest bit of a crush on him, though I do already have a boyfriend. His name's Carter Mcguire, he's nineteen, and we both love books and have ridiculous coffee addictions. We like watching old footage of the Rebellion together too, as well as old Hunger Games.
I tug one last time at my earrings and run my finger over the sparkling stud in my nose, making sure everything is in the right place. then I head downstairs, my hair fanning out behind me. Time for me to go show the world some girl power!
Mercury Medall, 18
District 2 Male
The hiss of the shower splashes in my ears as warm water runs down my body, soothing the purple splotches beginning to appear on my ribs. I scowl angrily. I still can't believe that quarry drunk landed any kind of blows on me!
He was a quarry worker, just a stinking quarry worker, who spent his money boozing in the taverns. I know, because I'd seen him before, so when he challenged me to a fight I didn't think twice on it. It'd be easy. That's what everyone else seemed to have thought, too, considering the odds they put on me were quite favorable. I didn't let 'em down either, but it was one heck of a fight, and it shouldn't a been.
Ever since I started snowballing peacekeepers just for the fun of it when I was thirteen I've had a reputation, and once I started in the street-fights two years back I was right away the best. I turn in the shower to let the water rinse my front and curse as the movement sends pain down my side. I gave better than I got, and I doubt the other guy'll walk for a week, but he isn't volunteering today. I am, and the bruises are something I can't afford.
I'm the best in the academy, and no wonder since I have all the extra practice at hand-to-hand, but I'm still miffed that the top two girls in the academy had better combat skills than me, and the girl in third was almost as good. I'm still not sure why they picked her to volunteer. She's just seventeen and not the best fighter in her class, but she must have other skills that I don't know about. Like maybe she skewers her enemies with her nose pin.
I snort at the idea. The girl has some of the weirdest fashion choices I've ever seen. She has ridiculously huge grey eyes too, and looks like she's never seen the sun in her life, but she's not my thing.
I switch off the shower and pull on my reaping outfit. I really don't care what I wear most of the time since I'll just sweat or bleed on it anyway considering my dangerous pastimes, but my grandparents want me to dress up for the reaping, and they have a point. First impressions are very important.
That's why I've never liked my family. See, my dad walked out before I could even remember him, and then mom just let herself sorta die, of grief I guess, when I was four. Then my grandparents took me in. They try to be nice in their own way I suppose, but they don't understand that Panem freedom that boils in my veins. I have to fight and anger and tease, because all those quarry and outer district worms deserve it.
I'm the best and I know it.
My grandparents quit trying to control me when I was ten, and I'm awful glad of it too. It was real aggravating having them on my back there for a while. Most of the time they just pretend not even to have noticed I was out.
I climb out the window, just because it's more fun then down the stairs and out the door, and run my hand through my stiff light brown hair, pushing it up. I think it looks quite dashing that way. My grandparents already wished me luck last night, probably correctly anticipating that I'd be out this morning. Dang it, my ribs are still so sore…
I drop the thought as my friend Arty comes round the corner. We slap each other on the back and high-five. His dad's a quarry worker, and typically I wouldn't associate with that kind, but he's a boy after my own heart. We've worked some pretty epic break-ins together. Like one time when we robbed a jewelry store that had a fully functional alarm system. That was pretty awesome.
We walk together to the Reaping, Arty talking excitedly about what it'll be like to live in the Victor's Village. To me, the coolest idea he comes up with is one to rob Androcles Mandan. He was District Two's first ever Victor, but he's just an overweight, crazy old man now. He's got all sorts of cool stuff though, word is he's even got some stuff from outer Districts that he picked up on his victory tour. I'm still dreaming of sensational heists when we walk into the square, and I almost punch the peacekeeper that's signing people in before I realize that that's all the sharp prick in my finger was, not an attack.
Arty's nineteen so he stands outside the section for eighteen year old boys, watching me. I start quivering in anticipation. This is going to be the adventure of a life time. I'll beat those outer district slugs, pompous, sicky-sweet ones and oh-so-cool easy fours.
It's all I can do to keep from rubbing my hands together, the way I do when a break in is just too simple.
Eleanor Bradford, 17
District 2 Female
My friend Clara stands next to me for support as I take my place in the girls' section. Her presence steadies me, despite the fact that she's only just over five feet tall, a full head shorter than me. Her dark curly hair bubbles over her shoulders and her dark eyes snap in her excitement for me. She trains hard and is lethal with knives but the trainers decided she's just to small, and she won't be asked to return to the academy next year when she's eighteen. I can see that it makes her sad, since it was training that originally brought us together, and we still distance run in the forest and practice hand to hand with each other.
Neither of us are gossips, but we still talk a lot about boys, and I think she's rather jealous that I'm going to have this chance to win the Games and be the silver star of my district. She knows the guys are all over victors.
As Mira Effervescent floats onto the stage, her gauzy gold dress floating around her and mixing with her at least three feet of fuzzy blonde hair, walks onto the stage I steady myself, swallowing hard. The video we watch every year goes by in a blur, and the next thing I know her delicate sparkling hand is reaching into the Reaping bowl. She reads the name, which barely even registers in my head, and suddenly I'm scared. A girl begins to move toward the stage and I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. What if I die? What if I never ever see my parents or Kendall again?
You'll see me, my grandmother's voice seems to say. Whether it was my imagination or not, courage rushes through me and I step forward, my voice cracking across the crowd. "I volunteer," I say no longer wavering as I mount the stage. The other girl melts back into the crowd before I even see her face and I take my place by the girls bowl, standing just in front of our previous victors. Now it's the boys' turn.
Mercury Medall, 18
District 2 Male
I stand up straighter as our escort moves to the bowl, dipping in a delicate hand. "Boulder Pruett," she reads, but before the sixteen-year-old son of a quarry worker steps forward, I shoot a hand in the air. "I volunteer," I proclaim, "I volunteer. To be the tribute of the year."
I'd seen the District 1 Reaping, and saw what their catchy lines did for the crowd. It wasn't hard to realize I should say something clever, but obviously it couldn't be the exact same thing as they said, so I came up with my little rhyme. It implies that I'll be victor without parroting the words of the the purple haired demon-goddess from One. I can tell already that those two are a threat, though it seemed like there was some sort of tension between them. Exactly what I wasn't sure.
Anyway, I stop thinking about it to drink in the adulation of the crowd. It's bigger than any applause I've ever received for one of my street fights, but the rousing satisfaction is the same. I pump my fist in the air and cheer, grabbing the hand of my slightly shell-shocked looking District partner and raise our arms together. She catches on quickly and is soon smiling and waving as Mira proclaims our names to the world. District 1, here we come.
I'm still basking in the roar that continues long after we enter the Justice Building when the door opens, admitting my grandparents. I can hardly suppress an eyeroll. They don't care what happens to me. In fact, they're probably just happy to be rid of my lawlessness.
"We support you, Mercury."
My grandmother starts the meaningless blather with that near-neutral statement. My earlier beliefs are confirmed by the words my grandfather adds, dashing any belief that could have remained that she'd actually meant it.
"Herra and I are so glad to see use using your talents for something honorable," he says.
It takes no effort to mentally add on the unspoken 'for once' that he obviously wishes he could say.
"Yay, awesome, thrilled." I say. "I think your times up though, nice talking to you." I turn away unil their time really is up and the peacekeepers take them away. They annoy me so much. The first thing I'll do as Victor is install an annoying adult sensor and vaporizer above the door in the Victor's Village. I hate being responsible, and annoying adults love to pressure me to be.
This makes the next visitor, or should I say visitors, much more welcome. It's my aunt and my three girl cousins, Oria, Elia, and Alexis. Oria's a real tough cookie even though she's only fourteen, but I guess being the oldest in her family made her that way. She's like my manager, holding the bets on my fights and selling off the stuff Arty and I bring in from stores. Her parents are fine with it, since my uncle was a fighter himself before he died of some sort of head condition.
Anyhow, they're immediately all over me, squealing and hugging and whatnot, all except Oria who stands in the corner and waits her turn. When they've finished high-fiving me twice each, Oria comes up to me, her dark eyes smoldering with the flame she always has kindled there. Her red hair only adds to the illusion of a hidden fire.
"Here," she says, shoving something into my hand. "Your token." She leans in as though overcome by emotion and preparing to sob into my shoulder, but instead of crying she whispers under her breath, fierce and urgent. "When you twist it there's a needle. It's got stuff on it. It'll kill, not painfully but slowly, just sort of putting to sleep whoever you jab with it. Be careful. Mom put it together and it's really hard to figure out so hopefully you can get it past the game makers." With a fake sniff, she withdraws, wiping her eyes. My aunt gives me a hug before shepherding the girls out of the room.
Once the door is safely closed, I open my hand. Attached to a thin silver chain, lying sparkling in my palm, is a little saber. It looks completely solid. I smile.
I really love my family.
Eleanor Bradford, 17
District 2 Female
The door opens to admit my first visitor, and my whole family pours in! Kendall leaps right into my arms, knocking me back into the chair I had just risen from, tears streaming down her face. The sight brings back my worries from before.
"Ellie, Ellie, Ellie," she sobs, "Ellie…"
My mom pulls her off, seeing that I'm dangerously close to freaking out over her, and looks at me.
"I believe in you Ellie," she says, her voice low and fierce. "I raise strong girls and you're going to come home a winner. Kendall believes that too. Right?" She stares Kendall in the face, as though daring her to disagree.
She nods weepily, gulping and getting herself under control. "I believe in you Ellie," she says, her voice quaking slightly.
"So do I," my father adds, wrapping us all in a group hug in his broad arms. "You'll come back."
We stay like that until the time is up and my family is forced to leave the room. A jolt of panic forces bile into my throat. What if that's the last time I ever see them? But it won't be.
Then and there I swear to myself on the soul of my grandmother it won't be. Not if I have anything to say about it.
Clara and Carter come in together, and Carter starts to kiss me before Clara stops him, saying something about being there as chaperone. He kisses me anyway.
Clara makes a gagging noise. "Now that we're done with the icky part," she says, "Carter and I have something to say. Pick someone you trust and give them your loyalty. Get them to trust you. But never, ever trust them. When the time comes to break off the alliance take them with you, then get rid of them when the time is ripe."
"Sometimes hiding out is the best way to go," Carter adds. "Once you're on your own, do that, that's what you're good at. If only careers are left, you can starve them out. Be stealthy. Be smart." He leans into my hair. "Be safe."
And just like that, their time's up and they leave. I'm officially a tribute. I tug on my earrings. What have I gotten myself into?
Then I know the answer.
I'm so tired of big, buff, blond male specimens winning. Now's my chance to show some epic girl power.
Panem, here I come.