Sorry guys... quite late update, I know. I don't blame you guys for the lack of reviews. This chapter took longer than I expected, maybe it was just that I just thought this would be it and maybe just I'm a little tired of writing these types of chapters. Anyway thanks goes to all of you for waiting- and here's our final Reaping chapter! Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 6: D11 & D12: The Meddled Minds
District 11
After losing her father to the Capitol and its Peacekeepers at five years of age, Shellby Patterson hadn't been too fond of the Capitol from the beginning. Her hatred had only deepened when she had lost Rue.
That event had only occurred two years ago, in the 74th Hunger Games. Shellby had watched in horror as she saw her best friend speared by the boy from 1, the sacrifice to Katniss Everdeen's successful destruction of the Careers' camp. It had left Shellby empty for many months.
The fact that she would never see Rue's faint smile again. The fact that they would never play together, not again. The fact that she would take over Rue's job.
Rue's mockingjay song was still heard amongst the trees. But it was not hers. It was Shellby's instead. It still meant that it was the end of the day, but it had another meaning now, to remember Rue. It was the least that Shellby could do.
Two years later, a hardened fourteen-year-old stood in the place of dainty, blushing girl two years before. And Shellby had found her own way to deal with her grief.
The revolt in District 11 was still ongoing, even after two whole years. Rue's loss was fresh in people's minds, as well as Katniss Everdeen's, but the casualties of Chaff and Seeder even fresher.
Shellby had not joined the rebellion, neither had stood against it. With her father dead and her mother sick, Shellby remained the decision-maker in the family. As much as she had loved Rue, as well as her likings for Chaff and Seeder, it had not been enough for her to endanger her five siblings' lives.
Ten-year-old Noah. Eight-year-old Acacia. Six-year-old twins Robin and Liam. Five-year-old Fern, the baby of the family.
No. Shellby could not let them die. She had loved Rue like a sister, but she had to protect her remaining siblings as well. And she was sure Rue would've done the same.
"Shell!" She lifted her head to see Liam pull on her sleeve, his blue eyes big and pleading. Being only six, Liam couldn't pronounce 'Shellby' properly and had decided that Shell was a much better name. Without Shellby's opinion, of course. He would sometimes point at the soft marbles of sand of the small lakes of District 11 and pick out a shell, announcing that it was Shellby with his toothless grin. Shellby sighed at the happy memory.
"What is it, Liam?"
"I want the pretty leaf but Noah took it!"
"Liam! How many times do I have to tell you?" Noah, only ten years old but already looking after her younger siblings, rushed over, face bright with exhaustion. "It's dirty. It had a bug on it, for heavens' sake! It looked disgusting!"
"It looked pretty! The colors were nice, brown and red and yellow and green all at once!"
"It-"
"Ok, shush, both of you!" Shellby called the argument to a stop, acting uo the maternal mother-figure she always did. "Liam, Noah's right. Bugs are disgusting and you shouldn't be touching a leaf with them on. Even if their colors were pretty." Working all life in the fields, Shellby felt no disgust with bugs but some could be poisonous, some actually fatal if unlucky. "Where's the leaf?"
"I threw it away," Noah responded, with a look at Liam, whose face fell.
"Don't worry, Liam," Shellby comforted the crestfallen boy. "We'll get you another leaf, better and prettier than that one after the Reapings. You got that?"
"What if you get Reaped?" Eight-year-old Acacia's blunt words were greeted in silence. Acacia had appeared at the doorway with no notice- like she always was- holding the small hand of Liam's twin Robin, as well as five-year-old Fern.
"I won't get Reaped," Shellby tried to reply in a confident tone, but failed. She had taken out much terasse this year, more than usual having to support a family of seven without anyone else taking it out.
"What if you are?"
"I won't be. I promise."
Acacia seemed to hesitate, but relented. "I'll be getting ready." Shellby stared after her, feeling a prickle of worry. Ever since Acacia's own twin Azalea died when she was five, Acacia had never been the same. She drifted like a shadow. She never seemed to belong anywhere. Her blonde hair and pale skin, opposite from the other members of the family, just proved that point, even though she had been working in the fields for over three years now.
"You won't get Reaped, will you?" Noah was more tactful and she asked in a hushed voice.
"I won't."
"I can't lose you like Rue. I can't lose a sister like May did."
"Don't worry. Even if I am Reaped, I won't be stupid enough to trust anyone blindly."
"Rue wasn't stupid. It wasn't Katniss Everdeen's fault she died."
Shellby stiffened, unwilling to argue with Noah and even more unwilling to talk about Rue's death.
"Noah, we aren't arguing about this now. Go and get dressed, then gather the kids up. Keep a specific eye on Acacia. And..." Shellby trailed off, not knowing what to say about Acacia. Noah nodded, understanding.
"I'll watch her."
"Thanks," Shellby responded, relieved. "I need to get dressed myself, actually. I have to go and ask Mother something."
"What is it?"
"Er, things." Noah sensed that that wasn't it, but she left her older sister alone. She had found out a very long time ago that sometimes, the best option was to be silent.
As she heard Noah close the door of their small second room, Shellby let out a relieved sigh. It would do no good to anybody if they found out what she was doing. Noah didn't need to know how much money could cost in selling drugs. They had been found a very long time ago, in a floor cellar while Shellby had been cleaning. She suspected them to be her father's.
Shellby had much secrets. Secrets that would do no good to share. And she was determined for no one to find them.
Little did she know, secrets never stay hidden.
"NO! NO! LISTEN TO ME!" Kestrel Vallory desperately covered his ears, wanting to block it all out.
"NO! LISTEN-"
"SHUT UP!" Kestrel roared. "SHUT UP! I'M NOT GOING TO LISTEN TO YOU ANYMORE! YOU TOOK HAZEL AWAY FROM ME! WHERE IS HAZEL?"
"Oh shit." Beside Kestrel's insanely screaming, one of the newer boys awoke, cursing rapidly. "It's fucking three o' clock in the morning!"
"He's crazy, what did you expect?" asked one of the older boys, who had woke up as well. "He's mad as shit. Leave him."
"I'M NOT CRAZY!" Kestrel screamed, lunging for the older boy who leapt backwards. "TAKE THAT BACK YOU FUCKING IDIOT!"
"Told you," the older boy said coolly as Kestrel banged against the bars of his bed. The orphanage Peacekeepers had been forced to put them there, following two major injuries and one minor.
The new boy shook his head and lay over, putting hands over his ears as he did. Kestrel screamed again, but this time in a more tentative voice, feeling ignored and hurt.
"What did I do wrong? Are... are you ok?"
"Shut the fuck up," the new boy sat up. "Hell, he's bestial."
"He's more than an idiot, you should stay away from him," warned the older. Kestrel laughed hysterically and reached again for the boy, his fingers just missing the boy's throat. If he could just reach it...
"He's just destinied to be a whore. Some whore for a pretty Capitolite to have sex on. I feel sorry for anyone who would take him though. Probably he's gonna scratch her eyes out." This made Kestrel scream again, causing more boys to wake up and the older boy to shout louder.
"Get back to bed!" He called. "I'll deal with this fucking idiot." Grumbling and moaning, with tosses and turns to block themselves from the screams, the rest of the orphanage boys lay back down, having dealt with this many times before.
"Y-you are a pussy!" Kestrel screamed. "I'm not crazy! It's because of you that no one likes me!"
"Face it, shitty boy," said the other coolly. "You are insane. Your sister is dead. You killed her in one of your 'fits', apparently. Dr. Hover told me everything. Hazel Vallory is dead because of you."
"Shut up! My sister's in heaven! She's not dead! I didn't kill her, a Peacekeeper did!"
"Stop lying. You know the truth."
"Fuck you!" Kestrel roared, straining to reach the boy. The older boy kicked him viciously instead, causing a fury of pain to errupt in Kestrel's wrist.
"Shut up and get back to bed! Or you'll be in the Torturer tomorrow!"
"I- DON'T- CARE!" Kestrel screamed. The other boy shook his head and turned back to the newer boy, who was watching, one eye open, with a newfound fear.
"Get the Peacekeepers. I'm not dealing with this kid anymore."
"No!" Kestrel's voice suddenly turned desperate. "No! Please... not Peacekeepers... it's ok now. I won't scream anymore! I'll be a good boy. Promise."
The boy hesitated, looking between Kestrel and the older accomplice.
"Get them," the older ordered. The newer inched towards the door, cautiously looking at Kestrel.
"Please..." Kestrel pleaded. "Please..."
"My name is Barry," said the older boy, sighing. "How many times do I have to tell you?"
"Please don't call them... I'm sorry that I was a bad kid! I'll be good now."
"He's batshit insane," Barry muttered to the younger boy, quiet enough to be missed by Kestrel. "If you scream again, I'll call the Peacekeepers." He raised his voice. "You've got that?"
Kestrel nodded. His hands gripped the bed bars tightly. As Barry passed his bed, all hell broke lose at once.
The bars were broken. Kestrel lunged forward, slashing Barry's face. Barry screamed as blood trickled down his face.
"I'll show you! I'll show you!" Kestrel yelled in bloodlust and triumph as he slashed down Barry's face, over and over again. "I'll show you who's boss here!"
"I'll get t-the Peacekeepers!" the new boy cried, rushing to the door. Kestrel cursed.
"The little vermin. Come back here!" Tearing his hands from Barry's face, Kestrel rushed after the boy, catching up easily with his long legs. The boy cried out in fear as Kestrel smashed his head against a door frame, over and over again. Kestrel continued this in bloodlust and adrenaline before he realized that the boy's screams had stopped. Nothing more of the back of his head remained but a bloody pulp.
Kestrel laughed madly and rushed back into the dormitory, not quite ready to get back to bed.
"Ok gentlemen!" He laughed as he came upon the dormitory. "Who's ready to die next?"
It wasn't an easy thing to round all the kids up for the Pattersons. As their mother was sick enough for the Peacekeepers to allow her to remain home, it was up to Shellby to gather them all up and take them to the Reapings. Therefore Shellby had to trust ten-year-old Noah to take care of the rest of her siblings until the Reapings ended.
"Shellby, how are you?" Her one and only friend now that Rue was gone, Alicia rushed over, spotting her in the midst of the fourteen-year-olds.
"Not doing well," Shellby responded grimly. Alicia had lost her mother from leukemia five years ago, her father as well, but she had an older sister who was currently nineteen. It wasn't up to Alicia to have the burden of taking care of the family.
"How's your mother?"
"The doctor says that there's no hope." Shellby's reply was bleak.
"He's a backalley doctor," Alicia warned. "You can't trust him."
"I know," Shellby sighed. District 11 had no proper hospitals, meaning that there were only backalley doctors like their own or apothecaries. Shellby would have actually preferred the apothecaries but the nearest one was five hours away.
"Welcome to the 76th Reapings, District 11!"
Don't think of the Hunger Games. Think about good things. There were, however, very rare happiness in District 11. And Shellby's life had spurred completely downwards after her father's death, nothing else.
Rue, she suddenly thought. There were plenty of memories associated with her best friend. A cascade of memories passed before her:
Rue, singing her little mockingjay song from the top of that tree. A burst of laughter that was quickly stifled as one of the younger workers suddenly had a cascade of apples on his head. Rue, sharing a rare treasure of hazel nuts earned from a hard month's work with the Pattersons. Rue... Rue... Rue.
The escort gave the usual announcement of the Capitol's glory and the 'honor' of the Hunger Games, blah, blah, blah. Then she called happily, "I suppose we're all excited for our tributes. Well, I don't want to keep you waiting any longer!"
Shellby's heart rate increased rapidly. She wouldn't be Reaped. She wouldn't be. Sure, her name was in there eight times more than others, but she wouldn't be! She would get lucky, for once! But Shellby had never been very lucky.
"Shellby Patterson!"
When her name was called, Shellby almost fainted on the spot. It wasn't possible. Why her? Why her?
It wasn't her. There was a bunch of Shellby's in District 11. It couldn't be her.
"Um... Shellby Patterson?"
This time she heard it clear and loud. Shellby let out a small sob of despair before the cameras spotted her, stepping forward. Alicia, her last hope, wasn't volunteering. So much for friends, Shellby thought bitterly as she climbed the stage.
"Hello!" The escort cried happily, happy to see that Shellby at least looked capable.
"Hello." Shellby repeated back.
"I suppose you are looking forward to the Games already?"
Shellby couldn't believe anyone could be do crazy as to ask her if she wanted to go to her doom. At that moment, Shellby would have liked nothing better than see the escort in a bloody pulp.
"Of course I am!" Shellby responded though, trying to sound good for the Capitol. The escort was happy with this and moved over to the boys' Reaping bowl, pulling out a slip and reading it out with enthusiasm.
"Kestrel Vallory!"
Almost at once, a hysterically laughing boy emerged from the eighteen-year-olds' section. The escort looked disturbed as he climbed the stage.
More people to kill! Kestrel thought excitedly. He was going into the Hunger Games! And he was going to kill them all!
"Your tributes for this year! Shellby Patterson and Kestrel Vallory!" The two tributes shook hands, Shellby gasping in fright as she did and Kestrel laughing maniacally, thinking about all the methods he could kill the girl in.
The two tributes entered the Justice Building, leaving District 11 behind them. What would be forever.
District 12
Days as a beggar and a thief had many opportunities. But to a seventeen-year-old Cassia Wells, the best opportunity was Reaping Day.
She huddled in the corner, like she always did, not being fond of attention. When both her parents had deceased in a coal mine explosion, in the same explosion Katniss Everdeen had lost her parents in, Cassia had ran away. She had no wish to stay in the District orphanage, preferring to live her life as a beggar or even a thief compared to it.
District 12 had come so close to victory the year before the last. But when Peeta Mellark died from infection and Katniss Everdeen dead just one step from Victor, the District had fallen back into the dust. Cassia remembered clearly how high spirits the whole District had had, eager to see one of their own tributes- not Careers, not others- coming home at last. And then with the loss of Haymitch Abernathy in the 75th, with no Victors, District 12 had fallen to a level that would be almost impossible to recover from.
As much as Cassia wanted to forget it, there was that one moment while watching Peeta die when her emotions had almost broken free. As much as she wanted to deny it, Cassia had known Peeta.
Their past together was beyond complicated, and although they have never been 'friends', somehow they still managed to maintain a certain connection.
Hope. Cassia remembered her sister, who had known Peeta much better. There was no use though. Hope was dead and gone.
Such a futile name in the hell of the world that was Panem.
Her twenty three year old sister had changed her name to Hope when she had turned eighteen, when she had become eligible to change her name. Hope had always detested her name- Iona- and had changed it, saying that maybe a little hope was what this world needed. Cassia had called her an idiot. Where was the hope in this world? People died from starvation almost every night. Two innocent children were Reaped and sent to their deaths each year. So where was this magical strand of hope that would apparently save them all?
"Somewhere," Hope would say. "Have some hope, Cassia. I know that a lot of times, it seems impossible to hope. But-"
"You have a lot to live up to," Cassia would interrupt. "Why don't you just stick with Iona?"
"Someday," Hope would promise, causing Cassia to snort. "Maybe someday, you'll understand."
Maybe someday, Cassia mused. And now you're gone.
Hope had one day been seen by Peacekeepers while coming back from hunting in the woods. Peacekeepers usually let it go, but ever since Head Peacekeeper Thread, everything had changed. The Hob had been burnt down. Rules were harsher. Whipping was daily.
They had all left Cassia. No one remained. No one could she trust.
Despite the poverty she suffered from, Cassia had not taken out terasse that year. Begging and thieving was better than going into the Hunger Games. Therefore her name was only in the Reaping bowl seven times, but it still made her nervous. In the 73rd, two rich merchant brats had been Reaped from the District. They had died in the Bloodbath.
I won't be Reaped, Cassia reassured herself. I won't be.
But a single, tempting possibility was inside her head, causing her to think... no... it wouldn't work...
Becoming Victor. It would mean an escape from her life, her days as a beggar and a thief. She would never have to try and solicit pity from others again. She would be rich. Rich as hell. For a moment Cassia almost considered volunteering, but almost immediately she shot down the idea.
How could she win the Hunger Games? There were the life-trained Careers, the sneaky and stealthy tributes, then the tough ones that just came out and fought it all. Cassia had exactly zero of these skills.
She found herself writing Cassia Was Here on the wall with the treasured blue pen that her dead sister had gave her, so many years ago. She liked doing that, liked that she had been there and she had bestowed a mark, a proof that she really had been there, upon it.
Cassia quickly dropped the pen back into her pocket as she saw a Peacekeeper come by, retreating back into the shadows. The Peacekeeper passed her without noticing her. That was how Cassia was- she could stand somewhere for ages and no one would ever notice her.
Quickly slipping back out to the light, Cassia purposedly brushed against a woman, smiling apologetically while she quickly unclasped her golden bracelet, slipping it into her pocket. Despite being the poorest District of Panem, the rich were rich.
And so Cassia believed that it would continue. The rich would stay rich. The poor would stay poor. And nothing would ever change her life...
Far away, a short, dark-haired boy huddled in the corner of the electric fence, flinching as he heard it sizzle.
Nico Forrest hadn't always been so dark.
"Nico! Nico!"
Stifling a sigh, Nico tiredly asked, "What is it now, Amilya?" The six-year-old smiled happily as Nico responded.
"Why's Reaping Day so special?"
"Because the Capitol says so," Nico muttered under his breath. Straightening up, Nico replied, "It's because of the Hunger Games."
"Why are the Hunger Games so special?"
"I don't know, Amilya. Go and ask mom."
"I did. She didn't say anything."
Nico sighed again, causing Amilya to look crest-fallen at him. "The Hunger Games are important," he explained, "because the Capitol likes it."
"What's the Capitol?"
"You know that pink-haired lady that comes every year?" Amilya nodded. "Her name is Effie Trinket. And she's from the Capitol."
"So the Capitol is weird."
"Yeah... I suppose. Don't say that in front of others though."
"Why?"
"Just do it." Nico wasn't willing to explain it all so detailedly to a six-year-old..
"Was Ashlyn in there? The Hunger Games." Nico's heart lurched.
"No. She's dead, Amilya! Just leave it alone, ok? You got that?"
"But-"
"Amilya!" At Nico's unusually stern look, Amilya became quiet. Sighing once more, Nico muttered, "Look. I'm sorry I shouted. But leave the subject of Ashlyn alone, ok? Can you do that for me?"
"Ok," Amilya responded happily, cheering up almost at once. "Are we going to go tp the Reapings now?"
"Mom's not ready," Nico replied, with a glance at their house.
Life in the Seam was not the easiest one could wish for. Even in District 12, the Seam was considered the poorest. The Forrests' house was half-painted with grayish white cement, with an unbalanced roof that creaked in the night, as well as the cracks that covered the entire place. The house did nothing to protect them at winter, when snow would cover the grounds and when the freezing wind would blow throughout the whole District. Their original windows had broken apart, and were currently covered with nothing but spare blankets or clothes.
Things had only gotten worse when Ashlyn, the oldest child of the family, had been Reaped for the 72nd Games. After both Ashlyn and her district partner's death in the Bloodbath, their father had resigned to morphling and drugs while their mother did nothing but lie down and sleep everyday. Nico had been forced into the position of the head of the family and had started thieving for food, with no other option left.
"Nico."
Nico stood up, realizing that it wasn't Amilya speaking. "Yancey."
"Nico. You have to listen to me now."
"Yancey, I've already told you my answer."
"There's a good place for Amilya, where she can be fed and clothed well! She would be happier, and so will you, Nico."
"I'm not sending her away."
"You're fucking thirteen years old, Nicholas Forrest. How much do you think you can do?"
"Enough!"
"Your family is starving to death. You're stealing as well as hunting in the woods, risking capture from Peacekeepers. Remember Hope Wells?"
"Hope-"
"-is now dead. As your friend, Nico, I'm not letting that happen."
"I don't need friends. Friends just betray and kill you."
Yancey stared at him for a moment, a wide, dark-eyed stare, saying nothing. Nico instantly knew he had made a mistake. Before he could say something, say anything, Yancey turned away and stormed back to his house. Nico was left sighing after him.
Being best friends since they were eight, Yancey and Nico had been best friends ever since they had met. But their friendship was cracking apart now, after five years of starvation and Nico's loyalty to his family.
I don't regret it though, he realized bleakly. Yancey would be better off staying away from him. So would everyone else.
He would never send Amilya away, no matter how he starved himself. He would work hard, harder than ever and win this opponent of starvation. He would show everyone effort could do anything. He would show everyone that against all odds, the Forrest family had recovered.
He had promised his father years ago, when he had left them all forever. At the age of seventeen, his mother sixteen, pregnant with a child, he had never been able to look after Nico. When Amilya had been born, his father had thrown his hands up and had walked out of the house. But not before he had made Nico make a promise.
It had made Nico furious a while after, when he had been old enough to understand. His father expected him to look after the whole family? Him, a scared, shy boy who had absolutely no talent at all? Him?
But now Nico had no choice but to do so. It was what he wanted so badly as well, after all.
"Amilya!" He called to his sister with a not quite light heart. "Reapings. Time to go."
"Coming!" Amilya squeaked from the back of the house. "What about mom?"
"She'll be coming as well," replied Nico. The Peacekeepers of 12 didn't count mental disorder as an excuse to miss the Reaping.
"But she's sick!"
"JUST LISTEN TO ME, AMILYA!" Nico shouted, Amilya flinched, taking a couple of steps back. That's the second time this morning, Nico realized too late. Bad move, boy.
N-N-Nico?" Amilya's trembly voice caused Nico to flinch as well. "I-I'm sorry." Nico turned away, face dark. "I'm sorry for being such a b-bitch." It caused Nico to stiffen.
"You aren't a bitch," he said sharply. "You aren't."
Amilya failed to nod however, causing Nico to breathe faster.
How long would this continue before the fragility of the situation shattered?
Cassia took a deep breath in the seventeen-year-olds' section, eager for the Reapings to be over with. Though at the same time she was afraid. Afraid that after a few hours, she would be leaving District 12 behind forever.
Do I really care though? She wondered as the mayor's speech began. No... No. Not really. What do I have left here? Just dust and shit. Just... dust and shit.
"Welcome to the 76th Reapings, District 12." Effie Trinket's monotone voice rang throughout the hollowness of it all. Ever since the 74th Hunger Games, Effie had not been herself. Some said it was losing both Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen so close to victory; District 12 had not made it so far for almost a decade. Some said it was losing Haymitch Abernathy in the 75th, who Effie had grown, despite their rivalry, accustomed with.
"And now for our female tribute," Effie announced dully, fishing out a name from the girls' Reaping bowl. "Cassia Wells!"
For a moment, alarm rang through Cassia's body. She had been Reaped. She was going into the Hunger Games! She was going to die! Then calm came over her. No one would care. No one would. Maybe this was her chance to change her life. Maybe... just maybe, she would come back, and have her happily ever after. Wasn't that what she deserved? With that hopeful thought in mind, Cassia climbed the stage, confidence radiating from her. Effie thanked Cassia for her cooperation, moving over to the boys' Reaping bowl.
"Nicholas Forrest."
No. When Nico heard his name, he knew he couldn't afford to panic. He could scream and sob and cry and shout. But what good would that do? It wouldn't help him. In fact, it would take away sponsors and lower his chances of surviving the arena. So as calmly as Cassia had done, Nico revealed himself from the crowd and climbed the stage quickly but steadily. Effie then announced them the tributes of the 76th Games, and then told the two to shake hands.
"I suppose shit just got real," said Cassia as she did, rather calmly for someone who would be going to their death very soon. "Cassia Wells. Pleasure to have your accquaintance." It seemed strange to be so friendly. She had never been much of the outgoing type.
"You've learned proper manners," Nico remarked. "Although you're obviously from the Seam."
"Like you," Cassia pointed out.
"I suppose. Nicholas Forrest. But you can call me Nico."
"Nico," Cassia echoed. "Nice name."
The two smiled at each other, and it was clear that a bond was already forming between them. They were then hurried over to the Justice Building, both of them calm, too calm for people who would be dead in a few days.
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