Lydia Strafford (D8)

"Keep working you losers," the overseer calls. I bend my head closer to my sewing machine and try to keep invisible.

"AHHHH," a small child shrieks.

There is a crashing from somewhere below. There is the whirling of a fallen and broken machine and the grinding of tiny bones. All of the floors are silent as everyone strains to listen for the sounds of the child crying and confirming that she is alive.

Silence, then:

"GET BACK TO WORK!"

I hate this factory. Children die sweeping under the machines. Others die in other gruesome ways from working too close to the machine. I'll never forget the first death I saw.

I was watching a woman with long honey-blonde hair. It was shimmering in the poor light of the factory. She didn't have anything to tie it back. As she bent over her machine, it got caught into the twisting machine. She was sucked into the machine, and her screaming was terrifying. Then, my mother was gone from the world.

Snap out of it Lydia. This isn't the time or place to daydream. You get killed when you daydream. Or worse, you don't get paid.

The worse thing about her death though, was it was my fault. I had just started working at the factory, and I forgot to tie up my hair, so mom gave me her bandanna. If I had just remembered my hair tie, she's still be around.

Dad doesn't know. I'm the only one who knows and I never told him. Other than that secret, we get along great. I love him so much.

Dad works in the shoe factory. He spends 15 hours a day making soles for the fancy Capital people to spend hundreds of dollars on. What does he get out of it? A dollar a day. For making roughly 100 soles a day. That's 50 pairs of shoes, and if each pair is sold for $200, that makes someone $10000. Of course, you have to take away about a dollar a pair to pay the workers, and there is packaging and shipping, but anyway. I love math.

I don't earn nearly as much. I work on the sewing floor in the Peacekeeper uniform factory. I also go to school. This means, I only make 50 cents a day. Ah, the glamorous life of District 8.

"Alright, machines off," the overseer yells. "You all have to be in the town square in an hour for the Reaping. I hope all your kids get Reaped you rebels. SCRAM!"

Everyone in charge at the factories is Capital people. I guess they were here to report if District 8 was trying to rebel again.

Everyone rushes out of the factory in a mad stampede. We all run to our shabby homes to attempt to make ourselves look decent for the cameras of the Capital. Or, rather, we try.

Dad beat me home. He gives me a massive bear hug. Even though we're poorer than dirt, we barely eat, and he gets less food than I do, he is still huge. He's like a giant teddy bear. His straggly dark beard tickles my face as he gives me a smacking kiss on the cheek. His dark eyes sparkle with laughter.

"How's my Kitten doing this fine day," he booms. He calls me Kitten because I was so tiny when I was born. He tells me all the time about how I could fit into one of his big hands. He says that I mewed like a little kitten, so Kitten I would be called.

"Well, I'm a little cold from that drizzle outside, but other than that I'm perfect," I say.

"You certainly are Kitten," he says.

As we prepare for the Reaping, I here Dad say words that make my heart go pitty-pat.

"I say Kyle at the factory today," he wriggles his eyebrows at me when I look at him.

"Dad," I moan.

"What? He's a nice boy, and I won't have to chase him off when he comes to marry you."

"Dad." I give him an eye roll. "Kyle and I are just competitors for the top of the class. We don't like each other that way."

"Right," Dad says, "and you're just blushing now because you're hot." He snickers and adds, "For him."

"I am not," I say feeling my flaming cheeks, "I'm blushing cause your embarrassing me."

"I'm just hope I won't have to murder any unworthy boys who come sniffing up my Kitten's skirt."

"Dad!"


About an hour later, we are all at the town square waiting to see who is going to be in the Hunger Games. Everyone looks either terrified or angry. We all share a tattered look.

District 8 was really involved in the rebellion. Everyone contributed. All of our men worked in the army, and everyone else did what they could to make supplies or defend the district. It was actually pretty fun fighting Peacekeepers. Dad had a good time too, though he won't admit it. Everyone is upset and scared that we lost. Especially since the Peacekeepers have been more viscous than ever. I hate Panem.

Mayor Winton comes onstage and starts a speech that no one listens too, I spot Kyle. Just looking at him gives me peace. His eyes, the color of melted chocolate, are angry. He hates the Capital as much as anyone. He shakes his head at something Winton says, and his blonde-brown hair goes everywhere. He spots me and gives a wave, and I wave back. He's so nice.

Mayor Winton introduces a Capital man named Michael. This one actually looks pretty normal. He is wearing a fancy suit that I recognize. I know it was defiantly made here. I wonder if he realizes that little piece of information. Anyway, it's easy to see he's a snob with his refusal to look any of us in the eye and his pointy nose in the air.

"Hello," he says in a very snobbish voice.

No one says hello back. We all just want this to be over with.

Michael sighs heavily like he wishes this was over as well. He reaches into a glass bowl that contains the girl names and says in a snobby bored voice:

"Lydia Strafford."

Oh, my. I am going to die.

As I walk to the stage, I think of the same deathly silence I heard earlier. The same silence I heard when the little girl died under the machine. It's the same thing now. I might as well be dead now.

I don't want to die though. Thousands of thoughts race in my mind. Strategy. I'll be killed immediately if other tributes know how smart I am. Dad says I look as pretty as my mother. Maybe I could… yes, I'll try it.

I give Michael a flirty smile as we shake hands. He puts his nose in the air again, but he gives me one of those up and down looks first. I then wink at the camera.

Michael yawns. He reaches into the other glass bowl. I chant in my mind, 'Not Kyle. Not Kyle.'

"And District Eight's male tribute is… Kyle Sage."

Oh, no. Please not Kyle. Take it back.

Kyle walks on stage in a laid back style that says "I've got this." He shakes Michael's hand.

He turns to me then. I look deeply into his yummy chocolate eyes as I kiss him.

Well, technically, it was a flirty peck on the lips. I see preps do it all the time at school. Although, I am surprised that my heart didn't explode from the sudden contact with Kyle's mouth.

After the surprise passes, he gets into the act. He does a cute Price Charming bow over my hand and kisses it. I use my other hand to fan my face, and flutter my eyelashes at him. We are trying not to laugh, but we pull our act off well.

"Yuck," says a little boy at the front of the audience. I care to disagree.


We are eventually led to a holding room somewhere to say good bye to our families. Daddy comes in. He walks over to me and gives me a huge bear hug, like he'll never let go. His beard is a little wet, like he's been crying.

"You be careful out there, Kitten," he whispers. "Don't let anyone scare you, because they are just big bullies. You'll be just fine, and you'll win, and you can come home."

"Oh, Daddy, I love you," I cry.

"I love you, too," he says.

We hug until the Peacekeepers drag him away. It takes a few of them, but they manage. Now it's just me and Kyle. I'm sure his mother came in, but I didn't see her. We sit in silence for a few minutes.

"You know, Lydia," Kyle says in joking voice, "I didn't know you could be such a flirt."

"I'm sure you know why I did it," I say.

"Yeah, we pulled off the act well."

Boys. I kissed him because I'm in love with him, but I suppose it could come across as an act. Boys are so dumb.

There is a bit of an awkward silence.

"I always figured," I say jokingly, "that our last competition together would be for class Valedictorian."

He laughs loudly. I join in, and we laugh a long time. A Peacekeeper thrusts his head in and raises his eyebrows before turning away.

"We always did a good job competing against each other," he says once we stopped. "Wanna find out how good we good do together?"

Dang, I wish he meant dating and…

Yet, her wants to work with me. I'll get to spend my last days close to him.

"Those Capital jerks are in for a big surprise."


Question of the Chapter: 1) Reaping ideas? 2) What did you think of these two? 3) What does D9 creators think of the other tribute for D9?

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