District One tributes-
Cisqua Florette-
"Cisqua, oh, beauty, it's time to wake up."
I moan, pulling the satin sheets over my head. My mother puts her warm hand over my cold one.
"Today's a special day, Cisqua. You'll want to get up."
I turn around in the bed, facing her. "What kind of special day?"
"It's reaping day, honey! How could you not remember? Last night we went to the Justice Building and entered your name in the drawing a hundred times, so you'll have a better chance to win." She whispers, faint excitement in her quiet voice. She strokes my short blonde hair while she kneels next to the bed.
I heard in school that in some other districts, you added your name to the drawing and got a reward. Here, you had to pay to enter the drawing more then once, twenty dollars for one slip of paper with your name on it. Also, in the poorer districts, you could just walk up and volunteer, you didn't have to go through the entire process. My parents had spent 2,000 dollars on just a small chance of me winning. Sure, they were rich, but they really wanted me too win.
I slowly got out of bed, and with the satin sheets draped over my shoulders, I stood in front of her, my feet planted firmly into the soft blue carpet. My mom smiled, and pulled my into a great hug. I relaxed, my head on her shoulder, and sighed.
"I love you, Mom." I whispered.
"I love you too, baby." She said, and then pulled me away by my shoulders. "Now get ready, baby, and show those kids who the most beautiful tribute is."
"I'm not a tribute, yet." I say, confused.
"Not yet." She grinned, a big toothy smile, and I smiled back.
"Now go get dressed." She ordered politely, and walked out of the room, closing the door gently behind her.
Standing in front of the huge wall mirror, I sucked my stomach in, turning my cheeks purple. The annoying pinch fat just kind of sat there, and I felt like growling at it. Sure, it wasn't that bad, and when I put a shirt on you couldn't even see it. But it gave of the impression that I was 'cute', not beautiful, or like I was a tiny innocent child. I was short, with big green eyes, blonde hair that fell no longer then my chin. It was like I was some kind of angel, cute little saint.
That's not how it is.
I'm strong, inside and out. Believe me, one insult about me or my family, and your good as gone. I get what I want, and nothing else. That's the way it works.
I try on a few different dresses, a light green dress that's far to childish, a blue ball gown that clashes with my eyes, and a light yellow skirt that doesn't fit quite right. Though, eventually, I dig out a beautiful violet dress. It has thin straps with a little silver beading, a very flattering middle with a gray sash, and the skirt with a couple layers of thin, silky fabric. The matching purple heels give me a couple inches up from normal, giving me near-average height. Every strand of my short blonde hair falls in the perfect place. I feel like a princess, and look like one too. Not one person will question my beauty, excellence, and superiority. I'm flawless.
And when they pick me for the games, everyone will know I'm the one that's going to win.
Kristofersen 'Kris' Red-
"Honey, honey, honey, baby, it's time to go, Kris, baby," Mom says, being more then her usual nervous self, but pretty neurotic. Thanks so the reaping, my mom was all the more over-protective.
She pats my back, leading me towards the door. I hold my large paperback book to my side, with my make-shirt bookmark of a shoelace that keeps falling out.
"Mom, calm down, I'm not going to be picked. And even if I was, I've been training from when I was five."
"Oh, oh well, okay." She says, taking a deep breath.
My shoelace falls out again, and I bend down to pick it up. And when I get back up, my fathers standing in front of me. I step back, alarmed.
He grabs the book out of my hands, ripping it in half. "You need to stop playing with this damned thing,"
He smiles at my look of horror, "I was reading that!"
"You where. And if I see you with another one of those things, you won't live to see the next day," He says, and simply leaves the house, slamming the door behind him.
I stuck in the same position looking down at the pages of my book, scattered around the floor.
I'm not shocked, or even scared. It's extremely common for him to do this. I'm a little pissed, sure, but I'm not going to go after him. You'd have to be an idiot to stand up to him, especially when his unspoken threat of assault lingers in the air around him.
"Oh, Kris, I'll get you a new book, I promise, that wasn't even very good, was it?" She says, wiping her sweaty palms oh her skirt.
"No, mom, it's fine. It's fine. I didn't really care for it, anyway." I lied. That was the book I read over and over again, my only escape from this twisted world.
The car ride to the reaping was silent, only the small sounds of the fancy car's leather seats squeaking under my weight.
Eventually, we arrived at the reaping. No signs of my father. I wasn't surprised, honestly.
My mom gave me a weak smile before letting me go to into the lines for reaping. I felt kind of out of place in the dress shirt and denim jeans, where as most boys had on things as fancy a tux.
I smoothed my sweaty hands on my pockets, and took a breath. I wasn't going to get picked. Sure, dad stuck 40 extra slips in that damned reaping box, but that was 40 out of thousands and thousands. Maybe even a million. I was not going to be picked.
Cisqua Florette-
A couple of giggling girls crowded me, one doing my make-up. That girl put mascara on my closed eyes, and suddenly spoke. She had been silent, other then when she asked me if she could put make-up on my gorgeous face.
"You think your going to get in?"
I pause, contemplating my options. "Hell, yeah," I say, and my hand flies over my mouth. I'd never said something so nasty in my life.
She laughs. "It's okay, I've said worse when my tongue slips."
"Yeah, that helps," I say sharply. I really didn't care how foul her words were. "Why, you think you get a better chance then me?" I snap.
"No. I only got one slip in there. But good luck to you."
I roll my eyes when she pulls her mascara brush away from it. "I don't need luck. I'm going to win no matter what, it's fate."
"Huh. Fate. Oh, well, you or me, sister."
She walks of, leaving me almost confused.
I jump up and down, holding hands with the girl I barely know, jumping up and down, laughing. From the loud speakers, we hear, "The girl tribute is…"
"Me, me, me! Cisqua Florette! Me!" I scream, but I can barely hear my own voice over the crowd.
"Oh, this is a good one! Are you ready to hear it!"
"Yes! I am! Now say it!" The girl next too and me scream in chorus, and then we giggle, and drop hands and stop jumping.
"Okay, if you're sure. Come up here… Cisqua Florette!"
I scream. That girl next to me screams something at me that I can't hear. I run up to stage, laughing hysterically.
I'm thrown high fives and some girls throw their make-up containers at my face. But nothing can destroy my perfect mood.
I was chosen!
Kristofersen 'Kris' Red-
The girl up on stage looks like some sort of over-confident God. She's pretty, sure, but looks like a snob.
Oh, well, it's not like I'm going to the Games with her.
"And out male tribute is…"
I make a face at the wild screaming, and a couple guys push me out of their way, anticipating for their own name to be called.
I squeeze my eyes shut tight, knowing it's not me.
"Kristofersen Red!"
I open my eyes and take a breath, it's all over. I can relax.
"Dude, get up there! That's you!" Someone yells, and pushes me.
"Ow! What are you talking about?" I ask, rubbing my neck.
"Your Kris, right?" He emphasizes 'right' like I don't get it.
"Uh, yeah."
"So, you were just called,"
"No, that was Christopher Reed." I say, correcting him.
"Kristofersen Red?"
I swear, right then I almost fainted.
I was chosen.
District One! Yay!
Review, please. District Two should be up in 1-2 days.
You can kinda tell by the end I sorta gave up, but I was tired and wated to get this done.
BTW: If I compleatly screwed up your charecter, let me now, I can fix it.
