Reaping day: noon in District 5
The Point of View of Chesta Edwoods
The coal fired power station is running at half capacity today. It is the first day my dad has had off in the five years since his wife died in a grinding mill accident. The Peacekeepers didn't give a reason for his reprieve from shovelling coal, but we both know it. Today is Reaping day and District 5 is looking forward to the best chance they have in years. I can really feel the pressure on my giant shoulders as I walk with Ghom down the hill to the Reaping square.
"Why didn't you put some better clothes on?" Ghom asks, looking at my tattered workshop apparel. "You're going to be on live TV for sure."
"Dad says it's better if I act myself, give a hard impression and all that," I reply.
"You always do what your dad says. You're almost as big as him now; you should stand up for yourself."
Dad's a giant of a man and a real District 5 patriot. He loves the combative nature of the Hunger Games and therefore from a young age I have been brought up watching reruns of each year. My dad takes the Games seriously to the point that he screams at the TV whenever one of his favourite tributes makes a strategic error. From a young age he has had great expectations for his son. At the age of five I started a diet consisting mostly of protein. By ten I was lifting weights and developing the skills required in the Games. When I was young it was all fun and games but now that I am 18 years old I realise that it is more than that. If I am to win I will have to kill people. That's not the sort of thing I am in to. It's just not me. I prefer to quietly do school work with my best friend Ghom, and greatly prefer learning the technical details of power generation to abject violence.
As we get closer to the square I begin to notice Peacekeepers and camera crews following us. We must look odd walking together. Ghom stands at a height of 160 cm where as I am 200 cm and 125 kg. As we enter the square the Peacekeepers split us up and one of them drags me past the DNA check in. They know exactly who I am, and it looks like they have plans for me. Indeed they have allocated me a seat at the bottom of the stairs up to the stage. There is the usual procession of videos and speeches. All the while I am painfully aware of the cameras focusing on me. I try to maintain a formidable expression, knowing that no matter whose name gets picked out society wants me to be the tribute.
"Cedrid Diffinty," is the name called out by the Capitol women.
The Peacekeepers don't even bother going to find the unfortunate kid. Instead the attention of the whole nation is drawn to me. I know exactly what they expect me to do, the Head Gamemaker himself had told me last night. But in my heart of hearts, do I really want to volunteer? What would they do if I didn't? Most likely make me into an Avox. I decide to bite the bullet and play along with what the public expect of me. What choice do I have?
"I volunteer as tribute." I state.
The point of view of Skylar (Sky) Clouds
"And your female tribute is Skylar Clouds!"
I am frozen to the spot unable to move. Warm tears stream from my eyes and down my cheeks and soon I can taste salt. My life has suddenly just been turned upside down. After all, for a quiet, slim, softly spoken girl from District 5, being Reaped for the Games is the equivalent of receiving a death sentence.
Two Peacekeepers grab a hold of each of my arms and drag my limp body up on stage. There are massive broadcasting cameras aimed at me from all directions, sending video live to the entire nation. My body remains flaccid, and my head flops down in front of me. The Peacekeepers have to hold me up while I am on stage as I am completely despondent.
When it comes time to shake hands with Chesta I am able to regain enough strength from him to extend my arm. He is the only one here who feels what I feel right now. The gentle giant's powerful hands give me the strength to lift my head up and look him in the eye. From close up I can tell he is sad too.
Twenty minutes later I find myself locked up in the Justice building. Apparently I'm allowed some two minute interviews. As expected the first people to see me are my family. My parents, Blanc and Trent Clouds, have been called in from their work at the wind farm, and Trent my brother has just been at the geothermal power plant. They hug me and try to convince me that everything will be alright, but we all know that is false hope. In no time at all the Peacekeepers are dragging my family from me for the last time, and that is it. Fifteen years of love, affection and devotion to each other is ended just like that. I sulk in the corner distraught.
A minute later I am distracted from my self pity by another visitor. It's my closest friend Estella Rills.
"Hey Sky, they're only giving me two minutes, just wanted to wish you luck in the Games."
"Thanks, but you know I have no chance." I say. "All the other tributes are much bigger, stronger and older than me. What could I do to Chesta for example? He's almost three times my weight."
"Yeah but you have other skills Sky. You are good at first aid and identifying edible plants, plus you are logical, fast and agile, these attributes are all important in the Games," Estella says as I shake my head. "Anyway, before the Peacekeepers come back take this. It's a symbol to remind you of your friends and family back home in District 5."
Estella places a small metal badge in my hand. It is a stylised lightening bolt which is the official logo used by my parent's wind farm company. She must have stolen it from one of their products. I thank Estella and pocket the symbol as the Peacekeepers escort her from the room, never to be seen again.
I sit in the corner bawling my eyes out and squeezing the metal lightening bolt, digging it into my palm. Maybe soon I will wake up and this will have all been a nasty dream?
