Tall trees of all sorts of sizes and shades of green surround District Seven. The trees were strategically placed to make a thick rim around the District's borders so that intruders wouldn't see the residents inside. A new tradition, which had started only a few years back, is visible from the outside. Whenever someone from the District Seven would win the Hunger Games, their name would be carved onto the Victor's Tree that could be visible from their homes in the Victor's Village. As of right now, only two names were on that tree and there was still a lot of room for more names.
Iris Blackwing occasionally sees the tree as she walks through the District's center market. Her crystal blue eyes always look around her in wonder and curiosity, and it is an often occurrence for her to notice the giant Dragon Tree that the District dedicated to their Victors. It's always enthralled her. District Seven, the District that chops down trees, had planted a tree, and a mighty big one at that. The way the trunk shoots up from the ground, the defined layer of branches and leaves, its stellar green color; it all was intriguing. With one final glance at the magnificent tree and a slight bite on her lip, Iris hurries along her way.
Iris runs quickly back to her house, the sound of her feet hitting the gravel pathway the only thing she can hear over her breathing. Her bangs fall in front of her eyes momentarily and she brushes her hand quickly over her face to knock them away. Once she has regained her sight again, she picks up the pace.
She sees her brick house before her and stops and listens in to see if she can depict who is home. She is greeted with birds chirping instead, so she just decides to go inside and see for herself. Iris is greeted with the sight of her father watching their small television with the pre-Reaping news that circulates around the Districts on the screen. He appears to be unamused by the sight, but watches it anyways, probably knowing there will be nothing else on until this year's Hunger Games are over with.
Her mother was in the kitchen cleaning the counter tops with a torn up blue rag that looks to be on the verge of death. Neither one had noticed Iris until she cleared her throat. Iris was met with two sets of blue eyes that were much like her own.
"Iris, you're back. How was the trip my little flower?" Iris's mother set the practically dead rag aside, dried her hands, and walked over to her daughter. She cupped Iris's face between her wrinkling hands and placed a soft kiss to her forehead. "Did you find what you wanted?"
Iris suddenly remembered the old, tattered bag in her hand and walked towards a kitchen counter. She began pulling out a loaf of bread, an orange, and a small wedge of chocolate wrapped in plastic.
"The baker had some extra scraps when I passed him and he offered them to me. I initially denied it but he insisted I take it, and I didn't want to disappoint him. So now we have chocolate, bread, and fruit," Iris explained.
Delighted with her daughter's findings, Iris's mother gleefully said,"Lovely! We'll eat good tonight!"
"But did you find what you went into the market for?" her father interrupted. To answer his question, she pulled out some wire and placed it on the table.
"More wire? Iris, you don't need all that wire," complained her mother.
"I wouldn't want it if I didn't need it," responded Iris. Her parents just shook their heads at their daughter's response.
Not wanting to deal with her parents, Iris went into the room she called her own. It wasn't a very big room; it barely fit her bed, a small dresser, and a tiny mirror, but she dealt with it. She digs a small box out from underneath her bed and places it atop the mattress. Removing the lid, she digs out a half ring of wire and a small diamond her father found within a tree. The diamond had been hidden away in what her father described as a secret compartment. The diamond was an iris color. By chance or coincidence that it shared the same name as herself, she wasn't sure. She had been named after the flower her mother loved so dearly that she would occasionally see in the forests of Seven.
Wrapping some wire around the diamond, Iris ties a few knots and carefully weaves the wire around the precious stone. When it's secure, she adds it to the half wire ring she already has and connects the two into one. After a few attempts and a poke here and there, the diamond was snug amongst the wire. She had seen a few Capitolites on the television a week or so ago wearing bracelets of various shades of gold and silver with diamonds on them. And now she had her own authentic District Seven one. With the iris jewel in the middle surrounded by the silver wire, she couldn't help but think of her home.
The iris caught some light from the window nearby and projected its iris color on a wall.
Whoosh! The motion of air being cut by an axe is heard. Crack! Goes the wood. Another whoosh is followed by a splintering crack! Whoosh! Crack! Whoosh! Crack! And, with a strike of surprise, a loud crash! is heard as a tree falls on top of the grass it was once rooted to, only its stump remaining.
Clay Woodchuck wipes away the beads of sweat that adorn his forehead like a crown. A smirk forms on his tan skin, his brown eyes twinkling with glee. He runs his hand through his straight black hair, forcing it off of his forehead. A sense of accomplishment swells inside his chest as he looks at the tree that now lays on the ground. As an eighteen year-old, being able to cut down a tree would seem impossible for an apprentice such as he. But, being the workaholic he is and his constant strive to be the best, he prepared his body for this task.
"'Ey Clay! Go home kid, youse got a Reapin' tah attend!" Clay heard his cocky-voiced boss call out to him.
A wicked grin formed upon his face as he called back,"What about the tree? Should I just leave it here to decompose?"
"Leave it tah the big guys," was his response.
"In case you haven't noticed, I'm the strongest one here."
"Ya sure about that ya big fellah?"
His boss burst into laughter, so Clay followed suit, not wanting to seem hurt by his comment. After a few forceful laughs, he stalked off to his house, leaving his axe on the tree stump for the "big guys" to deal with. One day they'll appreciate my work. When I'm rich and famous, they will all regret having downgrading me, Clay thought irritably.
The walk home for Clay was uneventful. He could still hear the splintering of wood ringing in his ears and the sounds of trees falling around him. Ever since he was little, his father, Oak Woodchuck, would take him to the forests and show him how to chop down trees and how to properly handle and axe. Ever since his first visit as a little four year-old, Clay has taken an interest in trees. He often thought of himself as a tree, and not just because of his height. When a tree grows a certain height, everyone in the District marvels at it. If Clay could grow tall like a tree and make a name for himself, he would be marveled at. Perhaps that is why he has been training for the Games since he was a little kid. Miracles don't happen overnight, trees don't grow seventy feet in a day, and Victors aren't born in an instant.
Arriving back at his house, Clay walks through the front door and immediately takes off his shoes. He can hear his mother, Cassandra Woodchuck, bustling about in the kitchen making a quick meal for her three children before the Reaping. Maple and Lizzie, his two younger sisters, were probably in their room getting ready for later. If there was one thing those two did together, it was getting dolled up for certain events.
"Clay? Is that you dear?" his mother called out from the kitchen.
"No mother it's just a burglar coming to steal the television," Clay sarcastically called back.
"Do not use that tone with me, Clay, I am your mother and I expect respect from you." His mother suddenly came out of the kitchen with five plates on her arms. Placing them down at the small table, she continued,"Now go get your sisters. They can't spend all day getting dolled up for such a horrible event."
"Why do I have to do it? Why can't father do it?" Clay questioned.
"Because I am your mother and I said so. Superiority. Now do as I ask," she responded.
Grumbling, he turned on his heel and muttered,"Fine."
Heading up to his sister's room, he couldn't help but think that today he would plant the seed and become the tree he was meant to be.
Iris stuck out her arm for the Peacekeeper so that she could have her blood drawn. After four consecutive years of Reapings, the fifth year was all reflexes. Stick your arm out here, stand here, do this, do that, don't make a big deal, don't show off yourself, and more. That's why when she took her spot with some other seventeen year-old girls in District Seven she wasn't surprised to see everyone looking straight ahead at the stage. Two giant glass bowls were almost filled to the brim with folded slips of paper. Either people were training and wanted to be Reaped or people were getting poorer. Maybe it was a mixture of the two.
A woman in forest green showed up onstage and smiled to the crowd. As soon as she smiled, everyone noticed that her teeth were green as well. The Capital finds this appealing to the eye and attractive? It looks like her teeth are growing mold, Iris thought in disgust. She always found the Capital designs unattractive, except for maybe the bracelet she had tried to replicate earlier, but this was just crossing the line.
"Welcome everyone to the District Seven Reaping for the 34th Annual Hunger Games! I hope you all are excited and eager to get this started!" Pause. "But first, a word from our President, Coriolanus Snow!" Green Tooth ushered everyone's eyes to look at one of the two monitors open to watching. The same video as last year played. It started with a black screen then flashed to some poor folk from what looked like District Nine. And that's when the voice started speaking.
Iris never found the video amusing. Maybe it was intriguing and factual at her first Reaping, but it was getting to the point where she could quote it. The only thing that changed every year was the actual footage. The voice and the Presidential message was the same every year. It was clearly very scripted and not at all sentimental.
When the film finally ended, Iris almost wanted to smile. Instead, she twisted her new bracelet around her wrist and awaited fate to take hold of two people in the crowd. Little did she know that her world was about to be changed.
"Wasn't that great! Now onto the Reaping portion of today's program. As we do always, ladies shall be first," Green Tooth smiled once again and Iris cringed at the green teeth that were flashed at the audience again.
"Iris Blackwing! Ooh, that's a very colorful name," Green Tooth commented.
Iris felt herself start to wilt. She was Reaped? Was this what fate wanted? Knowing that standing there wouldn't change the events, Iris stepped out of line and started to walked to the stage.
Well at least Lizzie and Maple weren't Reaped, Clay thought to himself. But would he be able to think that next year? He only hoped so.
A voice cut through his mind like an axe and caught his attention,"Forrest Silvae!"
That girl is already on the stage? Clay wondered. Just then he realized, They just Reaped the male tribute. And so, remembering his plan, Clay called out in his deep voice,"I volunteer!"
Clay shoved his way out of the crowd and began to power walk up to the stage, refusing to seem weak. He wanted to seem like a Career, and not even this pansy of a female tribute he was Reaped with would stop him from obtaining his goal.
"And what's your name?" Green Tooth asked as soon as Clay stepped on the stage.
"My name is Clay Woodchuck, and I'm going to win." he stated confidentially.
The two were so different. A tree and a flower. Bark and petals. Mud and a color. Could either of these two polar opposites really win the Hunger Games?
And there it is! The District Seven Reapings have happened. I apologize for this being terribly late. I am on summer, and I have been for about two weeks now, but there were some computer issues on my part which included a virus and no protection. But that is fixed now and writing should be smoother. Again, sorry for not updating in over a month, that was not my intention.
Anyways, please tell me your thoughts on this! Reviews are a great way to inspire an author and I always love them. Plus, I haven't been receiving that many reviews lately and I don't' know if that's a good or bad thing. It could really go either way.
I hope to post more soon and finally get these Reapings over with, because they're starting to become bland and repetitive. Feel free to comment or PM me some suggestions and I'll get back to you whenever I can.
Fortes fortuna iuvant. ("Fortune favors the brave.")
