District Ten
Escort: Boqua Lier
Mentor #1: Samuel Pollock, Victor of the 79th Annual Hunger Games
Mentor #2: Marshall Yablonski, Victor of the 101st Annual Hunger Games
Catherine Hill (12), District Ten
For my whole life, we've never had to fear Reaping day. We simply got up, fed the sheep, ate a good breakfast, and stood in the Town Square for a few hours. No biggie. Then my four younger siblings and I would throw mud and run around like hooligans all day long. At dusk, Mother would call us to the side of the house and wash us in a large storage bin filled with ice cold water from the hose. We were poor but always managed to have fun.
Today, things are much different. We still have to feed the sheep with Father. We still have to eat some eggs and bacon for breakfast. And we still have to stand in the Town Square for a few hours. But today, something has changed. This year I'm eligible for the Reaping.
"Cathy, make sure you sign in!" Mother says, pointing to the sign-in desk. She then rushes over to catch little Jess, who's run off after a dragonfly. Mattie and Hammond chase after them with a squeal, while Joesph watches with a mischievous glint in his eyes. My family may be a little chaotic, but I wouldn't have it any other way.
"Let me see your hand, Miss," orders the Peacekeeper. I look nervously at Father, but he beckons for me to comply. I'm always scared to trust Peacekeepers since Father hates them so much. Whenever they come to collect our taxes, Father rushes inside, cursing up a storm. It's scary for us kids when Father acts that way, but I just lead my siblings outside and we begin to play. I'm the oldest child, so it's my job to keep my brothers and sisters safe.
My hand shakes as I stretch it towards the Peacekeeper. A white-gloved hand snatches my wrist, dragging me closer to him. I can smell his rancid breath and see his tobacco-stained teeth, so I close my eyes and breathe through my mouth. A squeal escapes my lips as the pokey thing jams into my finger, but the pain is soon gone.
"I did it, Daddy!" I squeal, kicking my cowgirl boots through the mud. They were a gift from Grandpappy before he went to heaven.
"You sure did, Cathy," Father says, smiling and enveloping my tiny hand in his large one, "Now hurry up, go find your friends! The Reaping will start soon." His eyes darken as he says this, but I simply ignore it. What's he worried about? I think my name is only in the bowl one time. One measly slip won't get me killed. I feel much worse for the kids that took tesserae. I tried to take tesserae, but Father said it was bad. He knows what's best for me, so I just threw the form in the trash can like a good little girl and went on my merry way.
A tall, thin man introduces himself as Boqua Lier. He scares me, so I cover my eyes with my hands and watch through a little peep-hole. I can tell he's very pale, like the vampires in the books Mother reads us before bed. Although his tall, imposing exterior makes him look uninviting, his warm smile says otherwise.
"Time to chose the girl tribute!" he says, making his way to the first bowl. I close my eyes and take deep breaths, just like Father told me to. He said it'd be scary for a moment, but then it would pass. One time Joseph fell off the fence and twisted his shoulder real bad. Father said it was dis...dislok...disloakated or something. But he told Joseph the same thing, that it would hurt for a moment and get better. And he was right. Joseph cried for about ten seconds, but then his shoulder was good as new. That's what I'm trying to do now; remain calm.
"Catherine Hill!" Boqua says cheerily.
Tears leak out of my eyes as I clutch my friends' hands. They're all crying and calling my name, sobbing for the escort to choose a different slip. But I'm not crying because of them. I'm not crying because I got Reaped.
I'm crying because Father is crying. And I've never seen him cry before.
Chander Forrest (12), District Ten
"Chander Forrest!" calls Boqua.
Heart racing, I attempt to wheel my way out of the Town Square. My puny little arms are littered with cuts from the jagged metal of the makeshift wheelchair that my dad crafted for me, but I ignore the stinging. My life is on the line. We all know a crippled boy from Ten can't win the Games, so my only chance is to barrel down the fence surrounding the district and wheel my way into the forest. Unlikely, but it's my only chance.
The Peacekeepers reach me first. One slams his gun into the scratched tire, deflating it instantly and causing my chair to sag towards the right. I veer uncontrollably and crash into a wall, screaming in frustration and surprise. The soldiers are on me in an instant, picking up my wheelchair, with me still in it, and walking towards the stage. Everyone stares at me with pity, but I can hardly see them through tears.
What did I do to deserve this? One month ago my leg was crushed by a flailing horse, and the doctors told me I'd never walk again. Even my twin sister Shanel hasn't been able to cheer me up, and we're usually inseparable. Then I had to go and get Reaped. It's like the world suddenly hates me.
Catherine and I are in the same class at school, so we hold hands nervously as Boqua cheers our names to the crowd. He seems pretty nice if you can ignore his scary appearance. He hands Catherine and me a piece of candy, which we unwrap gratefully. Candy is a luxury in such a poor district, and I've only had it a few times in my short life. My short life that's about to end….
Mommy, Daddy, and Shanel rush into the room, sobbing their eyes out. That just makes me sob as well, and we all collapse in a heap on the ground. I don't care that my leg is throbbing without the cushion of the wheelchair. All that matters is savoring these last moment with my family.
"Promise us you'll try to come home!" sniffles Shanel, "Okay? I couldn't live without you! You're my twin!"
"Honey, we know you'll do fine!" Mommy chokes, fussing with my curly auburn hair that never seems to lie flat. But it sounds like she's reassuring herself, not me.
Mommy and Shanel begin to cry and scream, so the Peacekeepers have to take them out of the room. I'm sad, but they're kind of making me even more depressed. Daddy is a lot calmer than those two, even though I can see tears sparkling in his eyes as well. I know he'll be able to comfort me. He's always been more of a realist, not a worrier.
"Listen Chander…..let's be practical. You stand no chance without reliable allies that can help you through the Games."
"I know Daddy. But who'd want to help me?"
"That's for you to figure out, but stay away from people like Catherine. They'll only drag you down. Try to find some big strong boys and girls from the richer districts, like Seven and Five. They're more likely to help you, okay? Just stay strong."
My father's words comfort me in a strange way. I'm still nervous as hell, but having his honest view of the situation really helps me keep my mind on what's really important. I have no time for wallowing around in grief. If I want any chance of coming home, I have to stand up and defend myself. And that means finding allies.
Sorry again for the late update. Last week was kind of crazy. I had to give a presentation in front of 300+ people, which was fun. Notice the sarcasm.
Catherine is 5 feet tall and has brown eyes and blonde hair. Chander is 4'11'', scrawny, and has tan skin with curly auburn hair. Brown eyes. He's also in a wheelchair, obviously. These two literally broke my heart.
For mentors, I believe I have the following: One 6, one 8, both 9's, and both 11's. Please submit these so I don't have to come up with them myself.
Until next time~
-Snowy
