So because the reapings are really long, I've split it up into 2 chapters so for Heather, Danny and Katniss, their district's reapings will be in the next chapter.
Iris Hound D2
I wake up at around 5am, I'm so excited that I just can't sleep any longer. I carefully slide out of bed and walk downstairs to surprisingly find my parents already down there sipping on cups of tea. They certainly don't look as happy as I do. Maybe they thing I'm weak and won't win.
"I am going to win y'know." They look startled and quickly shoot their heads up like I just interrupted them during a dream. They definitely don't think that I'll win. I will. I'll kill all the rubbish girls from District 2, Harriet and Fuschinnia too. I'll strangle them to death, slit their throats, decapitate them if I have to. I don't care if they're my friends, nothing will stand between me and winning the Hunger Games. My parents tell me to go back to bed and I realise that they're right. Even though Capitol gifts aren't allowed in the district games, from the moment I volunteer as the first girl from District Two, there will be Capitol citizens feasting their eyes on us, picking out their favourites. I will of course be one of them, but I don't want to look tired, I want to get as many people rooting for me as possible. It'll help me hugely in the Capitol Games. The Capitol Games definitely won't be easy. They'll be hard. But I'll win them. I know I will.
I go back to bed and get some sleep. I wake up at 10 this time and I feel refreshed. The reaping is at 12 so I have plenty of time to make myself look beautiful for the cameras. They're going to love me. The Capitol citizens will know one of Fuschinnia, Harriet and I will win, but of course they won't know which one. I have to make an impression and get the most favourites, I don't want people to go off me because they wanted Fuschinnia or Harriet to win. Who would want them to win anyway. I'm way better than them.
My mother comes in and plonks me onto my chair. She does my hair into a tight braid, Katniss Everdeen style. I love Katniss Everdeen. She is my favourite victor ever, forget all the victors from 2 and I know she killed Cato from 2 which made her win but I love her courage. The way she outsmarted the careers (soon to be me) and dropped the trackerjacker nests on their camp and the way she got sponsors by making her poor district partner love her. She's great, I'm not alone in thinking that. 2 years ago they made a list of the top 10 victors ever, she was right there at number 4 behind Finnick Odair and 3, Gloss from 1 and 2 and Brutus from our District at 1. In the Capitol's eyes he is the greatest victor, but I thing Katniss is. She's quite the celeb in the Capitol, she doesn't seem to like it at all so they barely ever get her interviewed, but sometimes they do, and when they do, it goes down a storm.
My mother has finished making me look divine and puts me in front of a large mirror with a jet black rim. I look amazing. I'm sure to get more attention than anyone else dressed like this. I'm dressed in a short, frilly dark purple dress going down to just above my knees. Sophisticated but not too formal. Good, that's the impression I'm going for. It's 11:30 and a horn goes off to tell us it's time. Time to show that I am ready to become a tribute in the 100th Hunger Games.
My mother and father escort me to a car and in there I sit. It only takes about a minute to drive to the town centre and it's packed. They say good luck and goodbye in a teary-eyed manner. There won't be any time for goodbyes after the reapings so this is the last time I'll see them for a couple of weeks. In three days it'll be our games and after that I'll be a tribute.
I file into the queue and sign in. All the small children look terrified, knowing that people will, for the first time in 95 years, be reaped for the games.
The next half an hour or so goes by in a blur until Melissa Hatty from the Capitol says she will commence with the names soon but first asks if there are any female volunteers. Simultaneously, Harriet, Fuschinnia and I step out of the crowd and in unison say, "I volunteer as tribute."Melissa claps her hands in glee and asks for anyone else. About 5 more stupid girls step out. Only 16 left to be drawn. Melissa looks unimpressed and turn around to the reaping ball that she has never ever used. She walks over to it and reads out a name, and another, and another. Well this is boring. Very very boring. I good mix of ages get reaped. From 12 to 18 year olds. Good practice for the arena. I'm excited about killing the 12 year olds, that will be funny. They'll be trying to handle a sword and I'll just go up behind and chop their heads right off like I do to the dummies in the training centre. The female reapings are finally over and I want to see the boys but apparently there's not enough space on the stage for them so we are escorted inside. I catch a glimpse of Yoko who winks at me. I wink back. Inside we are put into a small room. Some people start to cry.
Connectus Jones D3
It's the latest that I've woken up in years. It's 10am. Over the last few years I've had to get up at 4am, scavenge for food for a few hours, go to school, scavenge for food a bit more, do my homework and then go to sleep. In the winter getting up so early is dreadful, sometimes it gets to around -10C! So anyway, it's the latest I've woken up in ages. I go downstairs to find my siblings and father all sitting round the table. My father has made us fried eggs and bacon which I think is a bit weird seeing the dire situation that we're in food-wise. My father looks up when he's seen me and gives a small smile. My siblings look up too and the atmosphere in the room is very melancholy. I take out a chair and sit down. My father signals that it's time to eat and everyone begins to scoff it down. I don't think it's the time for poor table manners but we're all just so hungry! We usually all only get 1 meal a day, 2 if we're lucky. But these meals are meager portions, enough to feed a 4 year old maybe. So for my younger siblings, it's OK, but for us older ones and my father we're doubling over with hunger pangs all day long. I've got used to it to be honest though. If (when) I get reaped, they'll give us a meal. A proper meal. I'm almost considering volunteering just for that meal!
We finish after a couple of minutes and my father says he's going out to find food for later. He specifically mentions that we're all having dinner together tonight, including me. He just needs to realise that I'm going in, and in a few days from now, I'll be dead. I've come to terms with it and it's alright.
The reapings are early this year for some reason. they brought round a list of what times all the reapings in the country were. They're usually either at the same time or staggered according to the district. It's completely random this year with us at 11:30.
I decide to go upstairs and get ready. This will be the last bit of 'alone time' i will get of my life. It's quite sad really, oh well. I slip on a loose-fitting black dress with black shoes and sit on my bed, I lie there for a while, thinking about my life and soon fall asleep. I wake to the sound of the reaping horn. It's time to have my near-certain death announced. I come out of the house with my family and with the rest of the district, file down to the town centre where Sassy Jamii is standing, waiting. I get the feeling that she's one of the nicer Capitol citizens, like she doesn't agree with the games. For example every year she waits for everyone to arrive and smiles at the ridiculously nervous 12 year olds. When I was 12, she smiled at me and mouth the words, 'Everything will be alright.' I like her, and if I could pick any Capitol citizen to have as an escort, I'd choose her.
I file into my section according to my age and gender and I wait. I'm one of the last to arrive so I don't wait too long. Sassy taps the microphone to check it is working and begins to welcome us to the glorious day in District 3. She says that it's time to get on with the reapings. She turns to us girls first and asks if there are any volunteers. Of course I'm not expecting anyone, until I hear behind me, "I volunteer as tribute." This startles me a bit. What? A volunteer!? A volunteer from District 3. Her name is Jamine Harrison and she's 18. No doubt she'll be our victor. Sassy then proceeds to ask for anymore volunteers. No one. Of course not. No one in their right mind would volunteer for the hunger games, apart from of course, Jamine. Sassy then turns around and picks name after name after name from the reaping ball. She's onto the 16th name and I'm getting a glimmer of hope. Maybe I won't be picked! The 20th name, The 21st name. The crowd of young girls on the stage is rapidly growing. All crying and hugging each other and reaching out to their hysterical parents in the crowd. I'm not being picked! 23rd name. "Connectus Jones." says Sassy. "Shit," I say out loud I cover my mouth and look around. What a surprise, I'm going into the hunger games. I'm going to die. I go up there and span the empty looking crowd of girls. I see my father clutching my siblings and he's looking straight into my eyes. No prominent facial expression, just sadness. I can see it all in those deep brown eyes of his. I feel a tear run down my cheek as I mouth the words goodbye. The boys seem to be feeling as scared as ever, seeing all those girls up here and realizing that the chances of them being picked are actually quite high. The last name gets picked and Sassy wishes all the women of District 3 a Happy Hunger Games and escorts us all inside. As we're going inside, Jamine touches my shoulder and whispers in my ear, "I'm going to kill you first you stupid little retard." Great. not only am I going to die, but I'm going to die first.
Kathy Jaboodi D5
It's 3am. I can't sleep. No one can. I know everyone is awake. We're all just lying in bed anxiously awaiting the morning. Will we be picked, I shouldn't but I could. There's a much higher chance that I will this year than last. Oh my god, I'm could go into the Hunger Games, and it's worse than a normal year, I'll be killing my friends, my own friends will die. I will die. Once I'm into the arena, I'll never see this orphanage that I have come to call home again. I feel sick. Not, "I'm going to vomit" sick, but mentally sick. I sit up and open the window for some fresh air and as soon as I open it, I know that it's what all the other kids wanted to. They didn't want to be breathing the air of their future killers or victims any longer.
I get back into bed and lay my head back down onto my thin pillow and try to get into a comfortable position, it's impossible with these 5cm thick mattresses. For some miraculous reason I manage to drift off into the nightmarish land of the arena.
I'm looking down from above. On the podiums are all girls but when I look closer I realise that they're all me. The gong goes off and every single other me within 5 seconds is somehow struck down my an invisible force, some by a sword, others by an arrow and some just fall over. Each body suddenly explodes in a shower of blood and I realise that if I go into the arena, there's no way that I'm coming out. I wake up screaming and realise that it's morning. I look at the clock in the room and see that it's 12:00, I've slept for 9 hours straight, longest I've slept in years. The longest I've slept since my parents died. Maybe my body is finally trying to find peace in itself now it's faced with death straight in front of it.
Everyone else is in the bedroom. Sitting up in bed in silence. The reaping is at 12:30, the horn should go off in around 15 minutes., giving us 15 minutes to get down there. We're only a 1 minute walk away from the town centre so it won't be a long walk. I guess everyone is trying to soak in as much of home as they possibly can before we're to be struck off from life, one by one starting in 30 minutes. I decide to stay in bed too. No one is making eye contact with each other. The atmosphere is not pleasant.
The horn goes off and everybody gets out of bed and slips on some bland unattractive clothes that the orphanage has supplied. We file down to the square in groups, some of us holding hands, others on their own. I'm on my own, not wanting to potentially touch my killer.
We sign in and get into our sections. We wait. The mass of terrified girls grows and grows around me. It grows and grows until everyone had arrived. Yenevir Gampi, the only male escort comes out of the Justice Building and in his usual camp voice welcomes us to this wonderful occasion. He says there's no time and gets on with the girls. He asks for volunteers and as usual, there's no one. Here comes the hell. The first name, "Daisy Jones", oh no not Daisy! She's a 12 year old at our orphanage, if this was a normal reaping, she'd be our tribute. She walks up onto the stage in tears. 7 names called. 14 names called. 15 na... "Kathy Jaboodi." My heart drops. I feel like I weigh a million tonnes, like I'm already dead. I'm escorted up and look out over the sea of people. I nod solemnly to my friends and mouth the word, "Thanks" to my carer. She smiles and a tear runs down her face. I look around and 7 of the 15 girls picked so far are from our orphanage.
The final 9 names are called and 4 are ours. That means 12, so half of the girl reaped from 5 are from the orphanage. I'm expecting to see the boys get reaped but we get escorted inside. I manage to catch one last glimpse of District 5, my home.