Districts Five and Eight Reapings
Avery Hayley, District 5 Male, 16
Voidflight
Avery didn't want to get out of bed on the morning of the Reaping. It wasn't that he didn't want to face the day or that he was scared of being reaped, but his bed was just so comfortable. School and work were both cancelled for the day, so he and his older sister, Maureen, didn't have anywhere to be until the Reaping at eleven. Might as well enjoy the comfort of his bed for a little while longer.
The smell of eggs cooking down the hall finally lured Avery from the under the covers. He walked over to his dresser and ran a comb through his thick, wavy brown hair before sliding on his glasses and emerging from his room. As expected, he found Maureen standing at the kitchen stove. She looked a lot like him, besides the fact that she was a woman, and he a sixteen-year-old boy. They had the light brown skin and dark green eyes, and their hair was the same color and texture. In fact, some people thought Maureen was Avery's young mother. She was thirteen years older than him, so Avery could see where they would get that idea. Besides, Maureen was actually more like a mother than a sister to him, as she had raised him since he was five years old.
"Good morning, Maureen!" Avery said cheerfully as he sat at the table.
She turned her head to smile at him. "Good morning, Avery. Did you sleep well?"
He nodded. "I had a weird dream though. There was this stray cat that kept following me around. I tried to get him to leave, but he just liked me, I guess. You asked me where I found it and I said, "I have no idea, but I guess we're keeping him." But then this little girl banged on the door and started screaming that I stole her cat, so I gave it back."
Maureen laughed, then set a plate of scrambled eggs in from of him. "That sounds eventful."
Avery nodded. It wasn't the most fascinating or twisted dream he ever had, but he found he could chat about anything, even about something as silly as a dream. "Thanks, by the way."
"Any time. Are you going to meet Lauree before the reaping?"
"I was planning on it. Is that okay?"
She smiled. "Of course. Just don't be late, but you know that."
"Lauree's mom will probably be rushing us out the door well beforehand anyway," Avery replied.
"I don't doubt it."
"So, are you seeing Kayden today?" Avery teased, referring to Maureen's coworker that she was interested in. Maureen hadn't dated much while Avery was growing up, choosing instead to focus on him. Now that Avery was old enough to fend for himself though, he tried to encourage her to make time for herself as well. Maureen had done so much for him, taking him in after their parents died instead of dumping him off at an orphanage like so many other eighteen-year-olds would have, that Avery really wanted her to be happy. If anyone deserved to be happy, it was definitely Maureen.
"Hopefully," said Maureen, blushing slightly. "What about it?"
Avery shrugged. "No reason," he said, flashing a charismatic, innocent smile.
"Uh huh. Sure."
Throughout breakfast, conversation never dropped off, which was how Avery liked it. He liked to talk, and fortunately, so did Maureen. After all, what was the point of having vocal cords if he never used them? When he was finished eating, he headed to his room to prepare for the reaping. He reached to the back of his closet to pull out his best pants and shirt. They had been freshed ironed and hung waiting for him to change into. When he was ready, he said a brief goodbye to Maureen before heading out the door.
The weather was pleasant, though a bit hot. District Five was in Southern Panem, and therefore had hot summers. Fortunately, Reaping Day was before the hottest peak of the year, so the heat likely wouldn't end up being too unbearable. Even though the reaping was not quite two hours away, there was already several people milling about. Some were visiting loved ones before the reaping, while others were rushing to the market for some last minute supplies. Due to Maureen's talent in the field of energetics, she earned an high enough salary for the siblings to live in the middle class section of District Five. Residents in their neighborhood could afford small houses, rather than the tiny apartments the poor district citizens were forced to crowd into near the city's center. The further someone travelled from the main power plant, the richer the communities became. While Avery wasn't rich, he was thankful for what he had. He never had to take out tesserae, and he had Maureen to thank for that. His best friend, Lauree, also lived in a middle class home, a few blocks towards the city.
Still, the walk to Lauree's house was long enough for Avery to get lost in thought. He didn't want to think about the Reaping, the Games, or anything of that nature, because that was too depressing, and Avery needed an escape. So, as he often did, he let his mind wander.
Lauree opened the door before he could even knock. "There you are!"
"I'm not even late," Avery protested.
Lauree grinned. "I know. I was just bored waiting for you to get here." She stepped aside to let him in, and her mother poked her head through the doorway as Avery came inside.
"Hi Avery. Are you nervous for today?"
"A little," he admitted. "But Lauree and I don't have many slips in. There's no use being overly worried for something we have only a slight chance of being selected for. I don't want to spend my morning in dread, you know?"
Lauree's mother sighed. "I hope so. But it has happened before."
"Don't worry, Mom. We'll be fine," said Lauree.
Her mother nodded slightly. "Just two more years."
Avery and Lauree hung out in the living room, chatting away as carefree as they could be. The dangers of being reaped still hovered around like a shadow, but there was no way to worry about it. After all, worrying meant you suffered twice, and with the low chance Avery had of being reaped, why should he suffer at all? Eventually, Lauree's mother told them it was time to leave, and the pair started the short journey to the square together. They were joined by more friends in the line to check in, before having their fingers pricked and separating to their proper sections.
The escort was a short, chubby woman in her mid-to-late sixties named Belphoebe Faustina. She wore a pink, cotton-candy like wig and was covered in pink make-up and dozens of pieces of jewelry. As usually, she was smiling brightly as she stood up to the podium after the video finished rolling.
"Hello, District Five! It's great to see you again! I'm pleased to tell you that not only is today a wonderful day due to Reaping Day, but I also have some fabulous news to tell you! Since I was last here, my daughter Louisa has told my beautiful, lovely, amazing wife Guinevere and I that she is expecting her first child! Isn't that exciting?!"
The crowd remained silent. In the sixteen years she had worked in the District, Belphoebe had proven how much she loved her wife and their three children, and talked about them constantly. Avery thought it was kind of cute and made the Capitolite seem more human in a way, but most of the rest of the district showed they couldn't care less about Belphoebe's personal life.
Belphoebe walked over to the girl's bowl and drew out a name. "Let's start with our girl! Iris Solaric!"
A fairly tall girl with wavy light brown hair and brown eyes stepped out of the seventeen-year-old section of girls. She clearly was terrified, but seemed to be trying to fight through the fear. Avery felt bad for her. She was only two reapings away from being safe, and now she was going into the Games. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to be in her shoes.
"And our boy is Avery Hayley!"
Oh… maybe he could. Avery tensed as soon as he heard his name. He… he was just reaped. No. No, no, no. What was he going to do? He didn't want to be forced to kill other kids, but if I was ever going to see District Five again, he'd have to. Oh, why did it have to be him?
"Avery? Where are you?" Belphoebe called, her expression confused as she searched for him in the crowd. Probably close to a minute after his name was originally drawn, Avery finally got himself moving. He shook all the way to the stage and couldn't think about anything else than what just happened. When Belphoebe greeted him, Avery couldn't even find words, which was a first for him. Avery numbly shook hands with Iris, before being ushered into the Justice Building for goodbyes.
His first visitor was Maureen, of course. Her eyes were red-rimmed and shimmered with tears, and her arms were wrapped around her as if she were cold. As soon as she entered the room though, she embraced her brother instead.
"Oh, Avery," she said, holding him close. "Why you? I wish I could do something."
"There's nothing you can do, Maureen. Girls can't volunteer for boys, and even if you were a boy, you're so much older than me that it doesn't matter anyway."
Maureen sighed. "I know. I just can't lose you. You're all I have left. Promise me you'll try to come home?"
Avery nodded. "I promise. I'll try."
"Good." Maureen's hand went to her neck, and she gently removed her necklace. It had a green stone in the middle and was the only piece of jewelry she owned. Apparently their father had given it to her when she was thirteen, around the time Avery had been born. "Here. This will be your token."
"Oh, no, Maureen, I can't take your necklace."
Maureen slipped the necklace over his head anyway. "Please Avery. Take it. Let it remind you of everything you have waiting for you back home.
Avery hugged his sister again. "Thanks for everything you've done for me."
"Of course," said Maureen. "You're my little brother. I'll always be here for you."
After she left, Lauree came in the room. She looked as though she was fighting back tears, which was odd since Lauree never cried, at least not in front of Avery. "You fight like hell, Avery. You hear me?"
"I will. I can do it. You won't be rid of me yet," Avery said. Lauree was used to optimism, so that's what he would give her. He couldn't give up, not yet.
"Exactly. Think of all we haven't done yet."
She was right. He had to come home, no matter what it took. He had to have faith. Long after she had gone and his other friends came and went, he stored her words in his head, and kept thinking them until he boarded the train.
Maverick Nash, District 8 Male, 14
david12341
It would be the first time he saw the sun since last year. It would be the last time he saw the sun for another damn year of living. Three years had flown by, but it wasn't enough. Nothing was enough.
He didn't sleep a wink the previous night. He had been too busy picking dark scabs off his pale skin. It was all he could do nowadays to keep from going nuts.
"You awake?" Acadia's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
"What time is it?" Mav asked tiredly, combing the long black hair out of his eyes with his fingers.
"Hell if I know." The girl fell silent. Mav just sighed and closed his eyes again.
He could have been safe. If that one day hadn't happened, he would be back home where he belonged. They would be bustling, he'd be playing with his little sister Dixie. They'd be talking and chattering about the volunteer that was selected. Mav would know that even if he was reaped, there were boys just waiting for the opportunity, the honor to take his place. But he was here.
"No use thinking about it now." It seemed Acadia knew what he was thinking. "We're not there, Nash. We're here." Acadia refused to be called by her first name, and returned the favor for Mav.
Maverick knew he wasn't in District Two. But it still hurt to think about. One day got him here. He wasn't even halfway done with his stay yet. Far from. Two years from. Ten years was a long time to be locked away.
His first year, he pretended he was in District Two. The train ride was just to scare him. They went around in a circle and ended back where they started. That had to be it. They didn't just send people from District to District. No. That didn't happen. He was actually in Two. It was easy to convince himself for that year that he was actually in Two, considering he never got outside. The Peacekeepers were the same. Just as cruel. The people were just as vicious. It wasn't hard to pretend.
His delusion was shattered when he was released for the first time, into a District that reeked of smog and crime, dreary and miserable, and herded to the 12-year-old male section, where he was flanked and watched by Peacekeepers, and had to realize that he was at risk of being reaped.
Mav was surprised he made it this far. He was surprised that he wasn't picked and killed when he was twelve. It would have made sense. More space in the prisons. It would have solved everything. For some reason, he was still here. Maybe because the reaping truly is random. As hard as Mav found that to believe, it was the only explanation. Which kid in this stupid District was damned more than the boy who was sentenced to ten years of prison?
Mav couldn't decide if they were lucky or unlucky. Sometimes death just seemed like the best exit. He'd considered it thoroughly in the past. At the same time, he didn't want to die. He had a release date. Sure, it was far, far away, but he had it. He would get out of there someday. He would make it back home. That's what kept him going.
Besides, Acadia would be pretty lonely without him. She was counting down the days. She had a month. Just a month and then she'd be out of prison. Would she be allowed to go home to her District? Or would she be forced to stay in Eight, left with nothing? Mav wouldn't be surprised if they just threw her out on the street. Then, she would have to pick up right where she left off, stealing just like before. They'd catch her again, throw her in jail again. This time, she wouldn't be with Mav, though. It was purely a mixup of fate that a boy and a girl ended up in the same cell, and because they were young the guards never made the effort to change it.
They'd spent four years side-by-side in that cell. Soon, it'd be over. She'd be free.
And he'd. Still. Be. Here.
For six more damn years, he'd still be here. He'd get a new cell-mate, probably an older man. There weren't too many younger people here. No, the only kids that got sent here were ones like him. Ones that had no hope.
Mav's lower lip started to tremble and the boy realized that if he didn't do something, he was going to start crying. That was the last thing he wanted. His greasy black hair hung in his eyes as he threw the paper-thin sheet off of his scrawny, pale body, and sat up. He couldn't cry. He couldn't be scared. Wasn't that the motto of his home? Wasn't that what he had to do here? Was he ever allowed to cry? Of course not. He was surrounded by men. The moment he cried was the moment he would prove that he was nothing but a child. He refused to give the others the satisfaction of seeing his tears.
"Acadia? You awake?" He was met with no response, which meant that the girl had done the impossible and gotten to sleep. Mav wished he knew the time. It could be midnight, it could be three in the morning. All he knew is that they would take them for breakfast at five o'clock. He was aiming for that. He closed his eyes again, not intending on sleeping, but hoping he could half doze off. That way he'd be able to wake himself up if he started thinking about Dixie.
The lights snapped on before he knew it, and a voice barked, "Rise and shine! Time to hit the showers!"
That's right. It was reaping day. He would get to clean himself. And, since he was at risk of being reaped, he even got a lump of soap.
He went with the other prisoners, flanked by Peacekeepers. He stripped off his clothes and went into a stall. The only thing he continued to wear was his necklace. It was the only reminder he had of home. The only thing he had left. He had taking many an injury to protect it.
"Any day now, Nash!" shouted that same harsh voice that had jostled him awake. Maverick flushed and finished showering quickly, not wanting the guards to hurt him. He didn't take the time to clean the blood out of the engraving before he had to dry off, wring out his hair, and put on the generic but nice clothes they provided for the reaping. He put the necklace back under his shirt, out of sight. Mav got his serving and looked around for Acadia, but the girl was nowhere in sight. He sunk at their usual table, keeping his eyes on his food as people walked past. He felt lustful eyes on him and when he looked up, saw Hartford, who knew what was around his neck: and wasn't afraid to play dirty to get it. Mav held his gaze defiantly as the nineteen-year-old walked past.
Lucky bastard, Mav thought, barely noticing the hand that rested on his stomach instinctively when Hartford was near. Safe from the reaping.
Luckily, Acadia found him and took a seat across from him. Her black hair was wet as well, and she looked in much higher spirits than she was that morning.
"Did you wash behind your ears?" she asked, eating all of her breakfast in one bite.
Mav gave a weak laugh. "Yeah. I did."
"Me too." She ran her fingers through her hair. "Felt good."
Mav gave a tiny nod. Sure, it felt nice to be rinsed, but the day soiled everything that came with it. Would he get reaped? The anxiety grew every year. Mav refused to let his guard down, refused to pretend that he wouldn't be reaped. He knew he would… It was just a matter of when. Then again, Mav thought, Maybe they don't want to give me the sweet release of dying.
It was miserable there. Being reaped and dying would effectively end his sentence early. Maybe they just wanted him to suffer more. After all, people like Hartford, who never went down without a fight and could turn anything into a weapon, were safe from the reaping. Maybe they would wait until the very last minute, when Mav was sure he'd be safe and be able to get home someday, and ruin it. Maybe they'd wait until he was effectively dead, starved, pale, a human skeleton, before sending him away. He felt like a skeleton already, and as time went by, it would only get worse.
"Breakfast's up! Line up!" The voice boomed. It was just like any other morning. All of the criminals fell into line, in perfect order by cell. They were distributed back to their places, and left to their own devices for the rest of the time before the reapings. Mav was on-edge. Being left to sit alone for hours just brought thoughts of what once was, and what could happen.
After, the two of them were left in silence, torturous silence, until they finally herded up the prisoners: eligible tributes in one, and all others in another. Acadia stayed behind Mav, and the small group of prisoners younger than eighteen were escorted by guards to the reaping. Mav's blood was scanned and he was whisked away from Acadia before he even got to say a proper goodbye to her. He hissed at the guards as they whisked him away from his only friend.
The reaping started quickly, Zatheniya Caireese taking the stage. The clumsy woman almost tripped as she scurried up to the microphone, the cake-like blonde wig wobbling, even though her real periwinkle and lavender hair was tied around it for support. Mav snorted, and a guard sneered at him, but he sneered right back. As Zatheniya stood up, the light reflected off of her golden-caked face and got into everyone's eyes. She was just ridiculous. When she spoke, her lips didn't move. The District knew that the escort was mute, the microphone was just for show as her artificial voice was synchronized with an amplifying device to make sure her words are heard.
"Welcome, District Eight, to the reaping for the Ninety-Sixth annual Hunger Games." Her eyes held remorse and fear. "Without further ado… Let's choose our tributes." She stumbled to the girls' bowl first and plucked out a name. "Dinah Cambric."
A commotion breaks out in the fifteen-year-old section.
"Dinah! I volunteer! Dinah!" another girl in the section starts to squabble, and the reaped girl shoves her backwards, causing more screaming and commotion. It gets so bad that Peacekeepers have to intervene, all screaming. Finally, they take the fire-cracker by the mouth, and the reaped tribute, Dinah, comes forward, tears pooling up in her eyes. She was perfectly average, maybe on the tall side, but not particularly noticeable. Mav wanted to get to know that girl that caused such a stink. Sounded like his kind of person.
Zatheniya's lower lip began to quiver and her eyes filled with tears. Mav rolled his eyes as she quickly went to the boy's section and picked a name. "Maverick Nash!"
All eyes went over. Mav felt his heart skip a beat. It was him. Refusing to show weakness, he started to the stage. With each step, he became more and more angry. He couldn't believe this was happening. He was getting screwed all over again. He stomped up the steps, rage clutching at his chest. Zatheniya gave him a sad, apologetic, almost heart-broken look, but Mav didn't want her pity. He just scowled at her.
"Everyone, your District Eight tributes, Dinah Cambric and Maverick Nash."
As Mav shook his District partner's hand, he realized that this isn't the end. If he won, he'd be free. He'd be rich. He'd make it home seven years early. Maybe this wasn't such a bad thing after all.
His first and only visitor was Acadia. She seemed pretty calm when a peacekeeper allowed her in and barked at her to hurry up, though her eyes held a sad look. "Why do you think it was you?" she asked.
"Maybe I was reaped to die. Maybe dumb luck. But I'll make sure they can't kill me. There have been tributes that were reaped to die and made it out. There have been criminal Victors." His first thought was Bronx Stringer, a high-stakes drug dealer that became a Victor almost sixty years ago. It happened once, what's to say it wouldn't happen again?
"You're right." Acadia took a deep breath, trying to stay relaxed. "Fourteen is young, but there have been fourteen-year-old Victors. You have a shot."
"That's the spirit. By the time I get back, you'll be free. We'll have a house. A place to start."
"Thanks." She gave a small genuine smile, which he returned. "I won't be sappy with you. Not till you come back."
"Sounds fair to me."
Acadia put out her hand, and Mav shook it with a firm grip. "Good luck out there," she said.
"Thanks." She gave a last nod and left, holding her head high.
Mav closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could do this. He could make it out of there alive, he could win the Hunger Games. All he had to do was murder.
Wouldn't be a problem, he thought.
Been there, done that.
Authors' Note: Another reaping come and gone! Just one more after this, and then we can move on to pregames stuff. :) Okay, I have nothing else to say, so I'm just going to let Celtic make an announcement.
ALRIGHT! Peeps, I've got a new project and you're all invited to take part! :) It's called Danzón and it's a full SYOT! Thanks to everyone that submitted already, and if you haven't, please feel free! Also, on her own, Celtic is a faster updater than me, so don't worry about her new project slowing down this story or this story slowing down Danzón. It won't, we promise. I worked on my first SYOT, Silhouettes, while doing this, and Silhouettes averaged out an update a week :) So yeah, please feel welcome to check out Danzón!
Chapter Question: Same. Who'd you like better and why?
