The people who have reserved spots, please send in the submissions as soon as you can. And to clear a few things, this is AU. I know Annie won the Seventieth Games but after Sixtieth I really wanted to write for Seventieth. Next, in last chapter, Hickory Marie's first name was Marie and surname was Hickory. I just told you in case you were confused.
Reapings
District Eleven
Rosamund "Rose" Blume (14) D11F
The Reapings. I had a very heavy feeling in my heart, as if something bad was going to happen. Bad things had been occurring in my life every year now, so why would this year be any different? Still, it did frighten me a bit to think about what could happen. Living alone with your mom, watching your siblings die can affect the mind. I wasn't shattered or broken for I had to be strong for mom but the nightmares were still there.
Now I had to work in the apple orchards on low pay. There was a time when I was rich too. Well, not very rich but we could afford our next meal. My father was the headmaster of the biggest school here in Eleven. Everything was going on well or so I thought. When I was twelve, I discovered that dad was plotting with the rebels. Most probably the Capitol found out about it around that time too. One day he went off to work but he never returned. Nobody knew whether he was alive or dead but I could feel it. He was gone.
His family had to be punished. That year my sister Olivia was Reaped. There was no chance that she could have survived. The girl from One killed her in bloodbath, and in a gruesome way too. My sister didn't deserve it. Our wounded hearts were not even healed completely when the next year came and my brother Cayne was Reaped. The Reapings were rigged, I was sure of it now. Strangely, Cayne was murdered by the boy from One. I couldn't take it anymore. They had no right to do this to us.
By the means of rigged Reapings, they were killing my entire family. Was there a chance that I wouldn't be Reaped this year? None. I might as well be prepared. But I didn't want to die. Who would stay with my mom then?
And then there was the nightmare that I had this morning. It was horrible and I had woken up drenched in cold sweat, shivering even in such a hot weather. I had seen myself in the arena, a boy and a girl looming over me, holding swords. They were torturing me and saying how pathetic I was and how I was destined to die by the hands of a tribute from One. The pain felt so real, the blood, my blood had spread around me. The boy had been about to drive his sword through my heart when I woke up.
I hoped I didn't have to share the same fate as my siblings. I hated District One. I hated them more than I was capable of hating anyone or anything else. And the Capitol. The Capitol and its lapdog could go and rot in hell. I wasn't going to let them do it. If I had to go into the Games, I would return but not let them kill me. Never.
There was no point of getting ready for the Reapings. I was wearing my work dungarees and they had to do. Which sane person would dress up for something as horrible such as this?
I stared at the broken mirror in my room. It had a huge crack but it showed my reflection, even though a bit distorted. I had a smooth oval face with lightly freckled rosy cheeks and pointed chin that made me look almost elfin. I was of a brownish complexion and was short, thin but lithe. I tied my extremely curly hair in a ponytail then frowned at my reflection. The image-me had fear in her dark brown eyes. I turned away. If I stared even a bit longer at myself I would have driven myself mad with fear and rage.
I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists, expecting the worst. With a deep breath I left for the Reapings, a small part of me hoping that the Reapings wouldn't be rigged this time.
Ainsley Fischer (15) D11M
Calculus was annoying. Maths was boring. And I still managed to do fine at school. At the moment however, my friends and I were at my place. Caleb, Wiz and I were trying to do our homework since we still had a few hours until the Reapings. Annabet had already finished hers and was talking to James and Santiago. Beside me, Wiz was solving all the problems expertly.
"I'm unable to do this," he said suddenly. "What?" Brooklyn asked.
"You're a year junior," I said, "How will you do it? The topic hasn't even been covered for you."
"What if I am able to do it?"
"I'll give you half of my earnings," I said, knowing I would win. She hadn't studied calculus. Lucky girl.
"I think I should help you out," Annabet said as she stood up.
"No," Caleb said, a slight smile on his face, "Let Ainsley lose."
"Why do you think that will happen?"
"There's no need," Wiz said as his hands moved rapidly, "I got the answer."
"Not fair," James muttered, "Brooklyn should still accept the challenge."
"And she will," the fourteen year old girl said.
Chaselia and Benjamin didn't even pay attention. It was our usual thing. Brooklyn shoved the notebook in my face. She had solved it neatly and I checked the answer, hoping it was wrong but no. no such luck. She brought her hand forward, an impish grin on her face.
"Half you earnings," Caleb prodded. I grumbled as I pulled out a coin and put it in her hand.
"That's not half of your income!" she protested. "Well," I replied, "I didn't specify the duration. I found two of those coins on the floor today. So, by our deal, one of it is yours!"
Annabet laughed. "Well," she said, "Brooklyn had just seen my notebook before approaching you."
"That's lame," I muttered. "So what? I still managed to do it!" she said.
Wiz turned to Santiago who had been very quiet through it all. "Are you okay?" he asked. "Yeah. Yeah I am fine," Santiago replied, though his eyes seemed distant. "He's worried," Benjamin said, "As today we have the Reapings."
A horrid cold settled over us. We tried to smile and talk but everything seemed forced. Benjamin was the only one safe right now, being nineteen. Caleb walked out of the room. I frowned at his retreating form and decided to follow him. He leaned against the wall in the hall and closed his eyes.
"What happened?" I asked softly.
"I hope none of us gets Reaped," he replied. "I hope so too," I said, "The real thing won't be as fun as the stories."
"I still don't get why you write those stories," Caleb said, "I mean, stories on the Games?" I raised my brows and smirked at him. "You write them too! Quite a lot, if I must say."
That's when I saw my mom come in. I beamed at her and ran over to her to give her a hug. She smiled kindly at me as she ruffled my hair.
"You should get ready, my prince," she said, trying hard to not sound worried. I was quite oblivious to the fact that my dad had come in too. Well, until he clapped me on the back. Then I noticed him, his kind brown eyes looking at me with affection. "Yes, get ready. Ashlyn, you too."
"Yes Dean," she replied.
I raced to my room, where my friends were still solving maths or just talking. I told them to get out because I had to change. I gently pushed Brooklyn out and the others, well they had to get ready too.
I put on a grey tuxedo, full of dust. It belonged to my, let me count, yes to my great great great grandpa. It was ancient, yes. But I loved it nonetheless. I looked at the mirror, grinning stupidly. If I lived for three more years I would be an 'adult'. I looked like a young child and I was proud of it. I had a round face and dark brown eyes. My black hair were always messy. I was sixty seven inches tall with olive skin and an average nose. I liked my appearance and the way I was. I wouldn't change it for the world.
My life was quite normal actually. Or maybe not, since I didn't lead a tortured life as the others in my District. I had a lot of friends, and good friends too. I did well at school but I had to work on the fields. We were poor and an extra source of income was always appreciated. My parents tried their best to provide a meal daily. I believed that I had the best parents ever.
I was about to walk out when my eyes fell on my special notebook. I smiled and put it in my pocket, my token as it was. I used to write stories in it. Stories about the Hunger Games and the tributes who went in them, the victors and the tributes' struggles. I had written two stories so far and was in the process of writing the third. If I wasn't Reaped, I would write about the Private Sessions. People thought it was strange but it wasn't. Caleb wrote them too and Santiago, Wiz and my other friends provided me the characters needed. It was all fun. I couldn't leave my notebook behind.
My legs were shaking as I opened the door and went out. Death scared me and I didn't want to go into the Games. I would be fine, I told myself.
But why didn't I feel so?
Rosamund "Rose" Blume (14) D11F
"The girl tribute for the Seventieth Games is Rosamund Blume!" the escort announced.
Why wasn't I surprised? I spat on the floor and clenched my fists so hard that my nails dug painfully into the palms of my hands. I was seeing everything red due to rage. I stalked up to the stage. As I was getting on, I 'accidently' tripped her, making her fall on her face. That felt better.
"I'm so sorry," I said bitterly as she picked herself up. She gave me a death glare but I shrugged. She wouldn't be glaring at me when I would return home.
Furiously, she went over to the boys' bowl and pulled out a slip.
"Ainsley Fischer!" she said.
Nobody stirred. "Ainsley Fischer, please come onto the stage!"
The camera found two boys who were talking when suddenly one of them started trembling. The other turned around in shock and stared at the stage. The other boy opened his mouth but Ainsley stopped him, shaking his head. Ainsley initially looked so shocked it seemed he would be unable to move but then he tried to smile for the cameras as he slowly started approaching us, his legs trembling. He was failing at his attempt at cheerfulness.
"Your tributes this year! Ainsley Fischer and Rosamund Blume!"
I looked into his eyes that held a childish innocence and fear, fear of death. We shook hands and his grip was loose, his hand cold. I felt bad for him, very bad.
But for me to return, he had to die.
There's nothing really left to say. Hope you enjoyed and… bye…