Here are the District 3 reapings! This chapter's slightly shorter than the others, I thought I'd give you guys a break from having to read so much :)
These tributes were created by TeamGlimmer and Thomas J. Flynn. Enjoy!
Sparkie Jesfer's POV
The air fills with the acrid smell of smoke as the knight nears the dragon's lair. His loyal steed whinnies softly, sensing the danger nearby, but continues bravely along the path. Bones lay scattered around, small animal bones as well as those from bears and horses. A pearly white human skull grins at the knight as he passes by, as though it is amused by the fact that he is going to his death. But he must keep going; the dragon had killed far too many people and attacked far too many villages for it to be left alone any longer. The knight himself had been a victim of the dragon's havoc, losing both his parents in a gigantic fire that claimed the entire town.
The opening of the cave looms into view. The knight draws his sword, looking around for any signs of the monster. A scream echoes through the air; it must be the young princess the dragon had most recently captured.
"Show yourself, you cowardly beast!" The knight shouts. All is quiet for a moment. Then two huge yellow eyes appear in the darkness of the cave. They regard each other for a moment, before the dragon let's out an ear-splitting roar and torrents of flames come shooting out at the knight. But he's too fast for it; dodging the deathly heat he rides towards the dragon, uttering a battle cry of his own, sword pointed high in the sky, ready to taste the blood of the monster. He swings his sword and the dragon lets out a shriek as he slices one of its talons clean off. But it's not over yet. The dragon opens his mouth and let's out another breath of fire, this time aiming straight for the hero's head. He-
"Yoo-hoo, Shimmer calling freak. Are you listening?"
I lower my head farther behind the book, eagerly flipping through the pages to see how the knight manages to avoid the attack.
He takes his sword and thrusts it into the air, channelling the magic powers infused into the blade by the sorcerer who crafted it. Lighting strikes all around as he-
The book is wrenched from my grasp and I look up to see my Shimmer looking at it in distaste. "Why do you read this kind of garbage anyways?" She sticks out her tongue and throws it away. "Dad says we're going in ten minutes!"
Step-dad, I think, hurrying over to pick up the book. Not Dad, Step-dad. Dad died in a factory accident eight years ago. Step-dad owned the factory and moved from District 1 to District 3 with his two kids so he could oversee operations and make sure no more "mistakes" happened. And when Mother came to pick up the money that would support us for one month after my father died, Step-dad decided to marry her. Supposedly he "fell in love," but I think that's a lie. The only true love my step-father has is his business.
I sigh and place the book lovingly back in its spot on the shelf. I guess I'll have to wait until after the Reapings to finish it. I start to head towards the door of my bedroom, but then hurry back and hide the book in the folds of the dress my mother urged me to wear to the Reapings. Maybe I can sneak a peek at it while the ceremony is going on.
I hurry through my house to the front door where my mother, step-father and Shimmer are already waiting. Since my step-dad originally came from District 1, we're quite well off compared to most of the other residents here. My mother wraps her arms around me and pulls me into a warm hug, which is comforting on a day like today. I know it's doubtful I'll get reaped, considering it's only my third year and I haven't even had to take tessera, but still, there's always a chance.
"Daddy! I can't find my other shoe!"
On the bright side, that means there's still a chance for my idiotic step-sisters to get reaped. Glimmer stomps down the stairs lopsidedly, one foot clad in a delicate blue shoe while the other has nothing but a fluffy pink sock.
"I'm ruined!" she cries dramatically. I doubt she and Shimmer even consider the possibility of getting reaped. Apparently they have much bigger problems to worry about.
"What do you mean? You look perfect from this angle," I say, tilting my head to the right side. Mother gives me a disapproving look as Glimmer dissolves into tears again. I sigh; every single year it's like this. Why couldn't my life be more exciting, like the lives of people in books. I'd much rather fight dragons and beasts than my two step-sisters, search for magical medallions and hidden swords rather than missing shoes. As my step-father sends me upstairs to help Shimmer and Glimmer look for the shoe, I can't help but think that there's so much more to life than this. Out there, some big adventure is waiting for me. I just have to find it.
Ram Underhill's POV
The key to life is enjoying it. What's the point of living if you don't have fun along the way? From what I've seen on TV of the Hunger Games, death doesn't look all that pleasant. So I try to live life as entertainingly as possible.
Too bad my brother doesn't see it that way.
"Relax Kelvin, none of us are going to get reaped," I say, as the five of us head to the square.
"And all over the district tons of kids are saying that to each other," Kelvin crosses his arms. "One of us has to be wrong."
I shake my head; there's no use arguing with my brother. Though we're twins, we're as different in looks as we are in personality. Kelvin's like the everlasting cloud of pessimism to my shining sun of no worries. Though he'd say he's the voice of reason to my crazy optimism.
"Well, if I am reaped, I'll be ready," Dex says, more to himself than any of us. He's a bit, how should I say, paranoid. After watching a particularly violent death in one of the Games involving a bout of acid rain, Dex has been training both his mind and his body so if he ever has to go into the arena, he'll be ready.
I don't really see the point though. I mean, the odds are extremely slim that one of us will get reaped, but even if we do, don't they give the tributes like, three days to prepare and train? You'll always have plenty of time to learn stuff then.
We lapse into silence, save the odd giggle or whisper from Marie and Rallon. I'll admit, it's been a bit weird having them around since they started dating a little while ago. I'm constantly having to pick up on signs that they want to be left alone, and we can't invite Marie to go somewhere if Rallon can't come. It's a bit confusing but at least they're happy.
We give the Peacekeepers our names and wave goodbye to Dex as he heads to the 17 year-olds section. I end up accidentally elbowing another 16 year-old as we attempt to squeeze into our designated section. The mayor is already up on stage, as well as the one victor District 3 has had in the past 36 years. I tune out the speech, since it's not terribly interesting and end up just basking in the warmth of the sun, wishing that the Reapings weren't today. It's so nice out, but instead of enjoying we're cramped in here with the rest of our District members.
I shake my blonde hair out of my eyes and wave to a few girls I recognise from school. They giggle and start talking amongst themselves causing me to smile and Kelvin to frown. We're 16, yet I seem to be the only one out of the two of us who have figured out the benefits of having girls around. For Kelvin, they just don't seem to compute into his computer-like brain.
The mayor finishes and our escort walks up onstage. At least, I think it's our escort. With the deep blue skin, the pointed ears and the prosthetic tail poking out of her skirt, she looks more like some sort of alien. I admire the Capitol for knowing how to really get the most out of life, but sometimes they go a little too far.
That's another point where me and my brother are polar opposites. He hates the idea of the Games and the Capitol for creating them. I think they know how to live. Don't get me wrong, I don't think the Hunger Games are at all good, but they're just seem so far away and unconnected to my life that I haven't thought much about them. Nobody I know well has ever gone into the Games and probably never will.
After the escort says a little introduction and talks about her new style, she finally moves on to the Reapings. I don't know how other districts do it, but here we always have the boys reaped first. She stands in front of the bowl and I wait for her to plunge her hand into it, but instead her tail flicks upwards and reaches into the bowl like it has a mind of its own. Gross. Seriously, how do they even make something like that in the Capitol?
The tail somehow manages to grasp one of the many slips of paper and brings it up for the escort to take. That thing is going to haunt me in my dreams tonight. She grabs the slip of paper and holds it out to read and just as I'm wondering how she goes to the bathroom with a giant tail sticking out of her butt, she calls out a name.
"Ram Underhill!"
My head is still filled with disturbing images of her rear end that it takes me a moment to realise whose name she called. Ram Underhill. Isn't that my name? I turn to my brother to see him staring at me in horror. Marie and Rallon are giving me equally terrified looks. My mouth drops open as I realise it really was my name she called.
For a moment I'm scared as I stare up at the stage. But really, everybody dies in the end. Sure, I might go before most people, but doesn't spending the last few days of my life in the most prosperous, fun place in Panem sort of make up for that? I figure I'd rather spend a week partying and eating great food and then dying over spending my whole life working only to die in the end anyways. This way I'll never have to get a job, never grow old and feeble and I won't have to hand in that report on terabytes that's due Monday.
My brother grabs my arm as though to comfort me, but I just shrug. All the thoughts my brain just came up with seem pretty plausible. So I give him a small smile and start heading over to the stage where the escort's waiting. She asks for volunteers and I see my brother take a small, hesitant step forwards before stopping. I know he would do practically anything for me, but when it comes to the Hunger Games family devotion only really goes so far. But I'm alright with that. Part of me is surprised that I am, but it's true.
The escort announces me as the District 3 male tribute of the 37th Hunger Games, sealing my fate and perhaps dooming me to die in the arena. But games are supposed to be fun, right? Spending my last moments playing the most famous game in history; I guess that's a fitting way for me to die. But I'm going to make sure I get the most out of my life before that happens.
Sparkie's POV
As soon as the mayor begins his speech, I whip out my book to continue reading. After all, it's the same thing each year and I'm dying to finish the book. After flipping through a few pages I finally find where I was and begin to read furiously.
He takes his sword and thrusts it into the air, channelling the magic powers infused into the blade by the sorcerer who crafted it. Lighting strikes all around as he roars in triumph and shoots the magic and the dragon.
Something about introducing our escort.
The dragon bellows, a sound so powerful it shakes the earth. But the enchantment of the sword is too much for it, and slowly the noise dies down as its massive body comes crashing to the ground.
Blah, blah, boy getting reaped.
The knight approaches cautiously, still on guard in case the dragon is merely faking. However it makes no movement to attack and as the light of life fades from its eyes, the knight realises that it is truly dead.
"Sparkie Jesfer!"
He lets out a cry of delight, but it isn't over yet. Running into the cave, he locates the captured princess who has fainted in the corner. Slowly his soothing voice rouses her from unconsciousness and as she looks into his kind blue eyes she realises-
Wait, what?
I close my book and look around as the escort repeats the name. But it's impossible. I can't be reaped, I can't.
Out of the corner of my eye I can see the Peacekeepers shoving their way through the crowd towards me, but I can't move. It's as though my entire body has shut down, has already died rather than wait until I'm in the Games.
"Pleaseā¦" I whisper. "Someone volunteerā¦"
But no one hears, or if they do, they make no move to help me. Why would they? I'm standing in a crowd of 14 year-olds I have never talked to in my life, preferring to stay by myself and pretend I'm off on wild adventures. I feel someone grasp my arms and look up to see the Peacekeepers dragging me towards the stage. Towards my death. I make a weak attempt at struggling, but what's the point? I'm not strong and even if I could shake them off I'm an awful runner. I have no choice but to accept my fate.
They push towards the stage and I stumble, then slowly walk up the stairs, each step making me less and less certain that my legs will be able to hold me up the next time. But I make it to the spot next to the tall blonde-haired boy who I guess was also reaped. I stand there, trembling as the escort calls out for volunteers. I close my eyes and pray that when I next open them, there will be some brave girl standing in front of me, saying she's here to take my spot.
"No volunteers? Well then, ladies and gentlemen, the tributes of District 3!"
Each word is like a sword stabbing me in the chest. I won't last a day in the arena; I'm not strong, or fast or big. I don't know how to fight. I remember bitterly how earlier today I was wishing my life would be more exciting. Well I guess I got my wish.
But then I think back to my book, to all the books I've ever read. Aren't most of them about a hero or heroine having to beat insurmountable odds? And that's certainly what I'm facing now: insurmountable odds. Does that make me like a character in a book?
The anthem plays and the Peacekeepers come back to drag us to the Justice Building to say our goodbyes. I don't fight this time, I'm too busy thinking, narrating a story to myself as if I was reading a book.
Sparkie Jesfer was just an ordinary girl, until she was forced into an arena with 23 other bloodthirsty monsters, each who wanted the pleasure of tearing her apart. She has no fighting skills, no expertise with any weapon, but she did have one thing none of the other tributes had. Brains. Using her quick thinking and clever plans, she might just be able to outsmart them all and survive. If she won, people would treat her as a hero, and all the riches in the world would be hers. Others wanted the prize too, but none were as smart as Sparkie. When it came time to play the Games, she would be ready.
Sparkie smiled to herself. She didn't know how the story ended, not yet, but she had learnt long ago through years of devouring books that there was one common rule to all of them. The main character never dies
I still need the District 8 and 11 boy, so please submit a tribute! Thanks guys!
