I am SOO, so very sorry that this took as long as it did. I have excuses, but they aren't enough. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and the next one should be out really soon! (Oh, and repeated from last chapter, should I continue on with reapings or have 5-8 train rides, 9-12 training, etc., or would you rather just have all the reapings?) Please leave a review, they make chapters come faster! Thanks!
Pike Reef, Age 18.
"Hayle." I poked my little sister. "Hayle, it's time to get up." I announced in a somewhat sing-song voice. An arm flew out from under the covers, and I barely had time to move before my younger sister smacked her fist into my face. She rubbed her eyes.
"Today's reaping day." She said, not really excited or scared. "My name's in for the first time." There was a crash of a plate in the kitchen. Oh great. Dad's up.
"I know. But you know, you'll never be in unless you want to. We're a career district. There's always a girl to volunteer." She shrugged as she made up her bed. "Where are Trout and Sandra?"
"I just woke up. I don't know." I patted her shoulder. I've never really been close with any of my sisters, because I've tried to make sure that when I went into the Games, and if I died, they wouldn't take it as hard as they did when my mom disappeared. After the boating accident, my dad went insane. Drinking, wasting all of our money on liquor. He practically handed me over to the trainers, and I've been working for the Hunger Games since I could remember.
Let me tell you about the District Four trainers. They play mean. If you mess up, especially if I mess up, they beat you. Sometimes it's just a bloody nose, sometimes you're in the hospital for a month. It's a crappy system, but it's the only one I can remember. I got lucky this year. My trainer, Jorah (Who also happens to be a victor, and one of my best friends) supervised my training for my final chance at the Hunger Games. They say this year is going to be one of the best. I don't doubt them. I threw some clothes I thought suitable for the reaping into a bag, and left my small house in a hurry, headed straight for the training center. As the sun peaked up over the tops of buildings, and the salty breeze of the ocean carried itself throughout the town, I walked quickly, trying to get there as fast as possible. So naturally I was terrified when I was suddenly knocked to the ground. A figure dressed in black held a broken glass bottle to my neck. I was pretty amazed that someone that small could tackle me, 6'3 and 224 pounds.
"You're going to have to have faster reflexes to win the Games, Pike." That voice…..
The figure took off her hood, and it turned out to be none other than my other best friend, Sonya Rivers.
"Go to hell, Sonya." I laughed, picking myself up. A flash of her eyes showed sadness, but then she turned back to her regular cheery self.
"Can you get me directions?" We both laughed.
"Why do you think I'd know how to get there?" Sonya skipped ahead.
"Because you eat babies and human souls!" That's an inside joke we have. A few years ago, when I was 13, little 12-year-old Sonya started to follow me. I didn't know until the sixth time, and she told me that the other careers told her that I ate human baby souls. She doesn't train, and doesn't believe in the Games. I think they're something that'll always happen, with or without me. After a while of skipping, we were still a bit of a ways off from the center, and she walked back to me. "You're going to volunteer today, aren't you?" I nodded. I could see she was trying to keep herself composed. "Thought so."
"Hey, it'll be fine, alright? I've trained. I'm capable."
"Capable of getting your ass kicked."
"I love how you're such an optimist." We almost ran into Jorah, who I guess was looking for me.
"Hey, Pike. Early training. Stay gold. Today's the day!" I laughed, and so did Sonya. We made our way into the training center, and there were already a bunch of kids there.
Delta Woodrow, Age 17.
"We could just not go." My brother grumbled, buttoning up his shirt. "Just stay home."
"And miss the reapings? No way." Hawk gaped at me.
"You enjoy the Games?"
"No. But, hey, I've trained for them. And they're pretty logical. I mean, if you thought about it." He ran his hand through his perfect hair, messing it up.
"Delta, you're smart. Intelligent. You could become something great. Are you really going to throw something that valuable away?" I smoothed out my pink sundress, and slipped into my flip flops. My mom didn't think they were very appropriate for the reapings, but I didn't mind them. It's not like anyone would be looking at my feet, right? My younger sister, Esme, waltzed into the room then, looking ridiculously overdressed. I had to leave the table. Esme, my dear sister, is the most annoying person I've ever met.
"Mom, I'm heading to the training center!" I yelled in the direction of my parent's room.
"Alright, but don't rip your dress." I faintly heard. My parents love the Hunger Games. Of course, they always wanted what was best for us, but that and fame plus fortune were always at the same level. I wasn't actually going to do any training this morning, but it made me laugh to see the last minutes potential tributes scrambling to get last minute things out of the way. Yeah, I trained, and yeah, I was pretty good. Not the best, but still pretty good. I could probably could use work on hand-to-hand, but I was more of a ranged person. My parents were even more excited than normal today, one because it was the reaping day, which in our district is more of a party than New Year's, and two, it my brother's last chance to volunteer. He'd trained, and my parents so desperately wanted a child of theirs to win the Hunger Games. Over and over again Hawk had refused, and I swear if he could, he'd start his own little revolution. But somehow, I'm convinced he's going to volunteer. If not him, then who? I walked along the path; the warm sun was an early indicator that today was going to be hot. I passed a lot of kids from the center, and they all said 'hello' and went on their way. Then, I decided I wasn't going to go to the training center. Reaping days are always bittersweet. It gives the lucky boy and girl the chance at the big-time, but district four doesn't win every year. I've never lost anyone particularly close, but I know people who have. And it's a little agitating when the Victor comes through, to bask in the glory, to look into the faces of the families of those they killed…I don't like it one bit. Instead of taking the street that would've lead me to the center, I took a different one, one that took me to my favorite place, the beach. I pulled my long brown hair back in a ponytail. Ah…the beach.
Pike Reef, Age 18.
"Alright, so then you want to hit this guy here," Jorah instructed, using his one arm to hit a training dummy, "So you can knock him out. Damn, Pike, I thought you were tribute-ready."
"Sorry." I muttered. For some reason, I couldn't focus. I don't know if it was nerves, or what, but I was edgy. Sonya sat on a bench by the door, kicking her feet back and forth, trying her best to ignore all of the other trainees. After punching it a few more times, I blinked a few times, and then turned back to Jorah. "Hey, I think I'm gonna call it quits for today. My dad'll be wondering where I am, and the reapings and all, so…"
"Yeah, go on ahead, you've earned it." I took a deep breath as I took off the pieces of protective 'armor' we all wore. They make it way too tight. Sonya joined me as I walked out, the giant glass door reflecting the bright red of the center that clashed against the mainly cool-toned district.
"Ugh." I groaned. "I don't like early morning training. I'm so tired of it."
"You can quit." She sang.
"Mer."
"Don't 'mer' me."
"I will if I want to."
"No." She looked at my t-shirt and shorts, the ones I wear when I train.
"Are you wearing that to the reapings?" Reapings? Reapings wha-Oh gosh. OH NO! I completely forgot! I ran off, my bag flung over my shoulder, hitting me as my feet hit the pavement. I ran into my house, ignored my dad, who was half-sitting/half-lying on the couch, drunk as a snail, mumbling insults. I threw the bag in the sink of our house, and hopped in the shower.
"Pike!" My sister, Trout, yelled at the top of her lungs while she beat on the door. Out of all of my sisters, I think Trout likes me the least, but that's only because we'd probably get along the best. "Get out of the bathroom! It shouldn't take you this long!" I pulled on my clothes, and looked myself over in the mirror. I ran a hand through my wet light-brown hair, trying to get some of the water out. I wore my nicest clothes, which were actually borrowed from Jorah, since my dad hasn't paid for me since my mom died. As I exited the bathroom, I threw my towel on Trout, which caused her to hit me on the arm. As I passed the living room, back outside to meet Sonya, I saw my dad had passed out on the couch. Well, Dad, you're not going to have to yell at me for much longer. I have a plan. And either I'll die, or you'll have to not hate me.
Delta Woodrow, 17.
There are several reasons why the beach is my favorite place. One, it's a stereotype. Everyone in District Four likes water, right? Two, I grew up here. I learned to swim just after I learned to walk. The ocean's my home, and there's nothing like sitting, listening to the gentle waves crash against sand, all by yourself. It's quite an amazing feeling, really. I mean, I know I should be getting ready for the reapings, and I know that what I'm wearing isn't really that dressy, but honestly, who cares? After a few minutes, I walked to the waterline, and let the waves catch my feet. I worried about Hawk. What if my parents got through to him? What if he did volunteer? Would he win? Probably, but still. I would never want to watch my big brother, probably my best friend, battle to the death on television. I checked my watch. I still had fifteen minutes before registration started. I decided to go early, and apparently, so did half of the district. One of the disadvantages of living in a Career district, I guess. I stood in the line, the bright greens and deep blues of the Justice Buildings making it appear as if we were underwater. Right as I was about to go to my section, someone touched my shoulder, and I turned around. It was my parents, and they were each wearing a smile of pride, and weariness, as if they had just lost a battle. Oh…
"Sweetie, how are you?" My mother cooed.
"Good, Mom, I'm going to go get in my section now, so if you'll excuse me-"
"Delta, Hawk is refusing to volunteer." I caught Hawk's gaze as I looked over to his section. He shrugged, and laughed. I rolled my eyes back to him.
"Sorry, Mom." My dad sighed, his usual 'oh, silly child, do you not know what we mean' sigh.
"Delta, what your mother is trying to say is that, for some reason, this is the year that a child of ours will be in the Hunger Games. Esme, as you well know, has made it very clear that she doesn't want to achieve fame by doing work. We wanted Hawk to go this year, since he is eighteen, but he…hasn't been exactly cooperative." Oh…
"We want you to volunteer."
"Me?" Nice going, brain. Who else are they talking to? They nodded, hopeful. "Um, okay. If it'll make you happy." My mother gave me a giant hug, and I realized the escort was halfway through her speech. I waved them both goodbye, and tried to slip into the section unnoticed. Hawk looked at me confusedly.
"What was that about?" He mouthed. I smiled, not to make him think that I was volunteering.
"You're in trouble." I mouthed back.
"…And that is how the Hunger Games began. Alright, now this year, as you all may know, is the Sixty-Eighth Annual Hunger Games, and as always, I assume we have a lot of hopeful volunteers this year." She walked to the names, and took an agonizingly long time to pick one, probably to tick people off. "I must ask you to be quiet until I finish the lady's name, and then you may shout. Alright. Wonderful. Congratulations…."
"I volunteer!"
"No, I do!"
"I asked for silence…."
"I volunteer!" Yells like these erupted throughout the whole crowd, and mine was one of them. Had I been fast enough? Obviously so, because after a few minutes of silence from the crowd, discussion between the people on the platform, and the huffing of the escort, the Peacekeepers finally pointed…at me. I could hear my parents cheering, and the unfortunate girls who hadn't been quick enough were cheering. We in District Four aren't sore losers. I never realized that before, but now I have. I made my way to the stage, and I could see myself on the monitor, blue eyes sparkling. The only thing I'm afraid of is facing Hawk after this is all over.
"Well, then. What is your name?"
"My name….is Delta Woodrow. I volunteer."
"How wonderful! Thank you, Delta."
Pike Reef, Age 18.
The girl, Delta, walked up to the stage. The escort dragged on and on again, and seemed seriously ticked off that the girls had interrupted her.
"…And now, boys, I would like it if you would please let me read the name before the volunteers pour in. Show the ladies what manners are." Ha. Usually I wouldn't listen to her, but the escort this year is new, and frankly, scares the crap out of me. And not a lot of people do. She walked over to the giant bowl, and again, just to tease us, took forever to pull out a name. "Wait, please." She opened the slip of paper up. "Hawk Woodrow. Alright. Now you may yell." My voice joined the ranks of others. I knew Hawk, and I knew that his sister was up on the platform. The escort sorted through the crowd, and finally her eyes fell on me. "You!" she cried. "You there, next to the fellow in the green shirt." A couple of guys stepped forward, but the escort shushed them back. "No, not you. Him." I raised my hand.
"Me?"
"Yes, you." Oh, yes. Yes! I made my way to the stage, and looked at Delta. She smiled in thanks. "And what might your name be, sweetheart?" The escort asked.
"Pike Reef."
"Alright, shake hands now." We shook hands. "I give you, District Four, your tributes!" The crowd cheered. But all I could see was Sonya's face. Disappointed. Sad. Broken. Don't you know I'll be back, Sonya? I'll be back. I glanced over at Delta. For me to come back…she'd have to die.
