District Two Reaping: The Winner and the Loser

Molly Grasses, 13, District 2 – The Determined

I woke with hair tickling my nose – long dark strands that I batted away as I blinked open my eyes. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I registered my sister, Leah's, face looming over me.

"Molly? Molly, wake up. Wake up for the Reaping."

I groaned and levered myself into a sitting position. "Ugh. Do I have to?"

"Of course you do," said Leah, hands on hips as she stood straighter. "I've already picked a dress for you. I used to wear it to school dances all the time when I was your age. It's pretty; you'll like it." She smiled. "I'll let you get ready, do your hair and what not. You can call me if you need help with the zipper on the back." Another smile as she paused, then ruffled my hair. She left the room, casting another smiling glance over her shoulder.

I glanced at the chair where she would have left the dress. Of course, I didn't care about pretty, I cared about practical, so when I saw it, I felt like I was going to retch. All pouffy and elegant, the dress was of an ivory color. Little plastic gems lined the hem and the turleneck collar and the cuffs of the long sleeves. I climbed out of bed and held it out at arm's length, examining it skeptically. No way on earth was I going to wear that thing.

I grabbed my pocket knife where it was hidden, taped behind my dresser, and roughly cut off the skirt. I threw on the top and clambered into some jeans that weren't covered in holes and blade slices, then tied my hair back and marched purposefully out the door.

There were pancakes, and there was sparkling water, and I took a seat at the dining room table. Leah came in with a pot of coffee, took one look at my massacre of her dress, and her nose wrinkled. "What did you do, Molly?"

I lifted a shoulder indifferently. "I liked it this way."

"Oh, for Christ's sake," muttered Leah.

Hugh Ender, 16, District 2 – The Suicidal

The gong sounded just as I pressed the blade against my wrist. My fingers slowly lessened their grip, and the knife clattered to the floor. I stood there, and a small smile lit my face. I didn't have to go, not this way. I didn't have to die just yet.

Why kill myself now when I could die in the Hunger Games?

I knew that, in a way, I was just procrastinating. I'd tried many a time to take my own life before. Every time, I couldn't bring myself to do it. First, I tried to hang myself, but after several seconds, I couldn't take it and I reached up and undid the knots. I nearly threw myself off the roof of the Justice Building, but at the edge, I stumbled backwards, ran down the stairs, and hid under my bed. Like a child.

I'd recently resorted to slitting my wrists, but every time, I dropped the knife. I just couldn't freaking do it.

I peered out the window. People were gathering now, going to the square. I left fast, not wanting to dwell back home any longer, when her laughs could have been filling the room instead.

Molly Grasses, 13, District 2 – The Determined

"Welcome, District Two! Welcome to the Reaping of the very first Hunger Games. And of course, there will be countless more of these surely exciting Games to come every year!" An escort named, as she said, Monique Ashes, waved her hands in the air excitedly. "Is this not exciting?"

She paused and frowned, twirling brown hair around her finger. Then she put that smile right back on and she squeezed her expertly manicured hands together. "Well, of course, we have to focus on the present, not the wonderful Games to come. Let's focus on this year's tributes of the Masonry district, staring with the ladies!"

She tapped across the stage and reached her hand into a bowl. She pulled out a slip and held it up for all of us to see, then unfolded it.

"Molly Grasses!" she cried aloud, and my jaw dropped.

Hugh Ender, 16, District 2 – The Suicidal

A girl from the thirteen year old section came forwards. She wore a shirt that looked like it had once belonged to a dress, and the bottom sported strings of thread trailing down her hips, and dark indigo jeans. Her dark hair was done in two braids, but the girl – Molly – showed no fear, just surprise. No fear registered in her brown eyes, just shock.

She mounted the stage and Monique gave her hand a little squeeze as she did so. She introduced Molly to the world, then she moved on to the boys, and I was standing there, hoping to God I'd be able to sum up the courage to volunteer.

Luckily, I could, just after she called a name I paid no attention to. I nearly ran onto the stage and waved at the District. "I volunteer," I gasped into the mic.

Molly watched me carefully, sizing me up, as if thinking of how much of a threat I could be.

"How tantalizing!" Monique cried, and I was pretty sure that was a misuse of the word. "How tantalizing! Well, dear boy, what is your name?"

"Hugh Ender," I muttered, not meeting her eyes. "I…I'm sixteen."

Monique wriggled a bit in her long blue dress. "Oh! Well, then. Our tributes of District Two! Molly Grasses and Hugh Ender…come on, shake hands, you two."

We did, and Molly met my gaze with fiery determination for someone so young. It reminded me of Azuela, and I bit my lip, trying not to cry at the thought of her.