District Eight Reaping: Imminent Death
Carter Stark, District 8
"Don't I look like a princess, Carter?" giggled the petite little eight-year-old as she twirled around, causing her bright pink gown to fly around her thin legs. The dress was covered in glitter and frills, obviously meant to be a plaything for a young girl.
"No," The little boy scowled, brushing his curly brown hair out of his eyes. "You look dumb, Hayden. You're not a princess."
"I can pretend! You're being mean," Hayden grabbed her little brother's arms and pulled him closer to her. "What's wrong with you?"
"Let go of me!" he shrieked, thrashing about violently.
"Then stop being so mean!"
Carter brought his head forward and bit his sister's arm, sharp little teeth piercing Hayden's flesh.
"Ow!" The girl wailed, letting go of him. Her chubby face had turned bright red with pain, and she burst into angry tears. "I'm bleeding! It hurts!"
Her mother rushed into the room, summoned by Hayden's cries, but Carter had already run off.
Olivia Stark stood in the middle of the kitchen with arms folded and grey eyes serious, foot tapping irritably on the tile floor. She stared intently at her six-year-old son, squirming uncomfortably in front of her.
Abruptly relaxing her posture, Olivia sighed and ran a hand through her dark brown hair. She supposed Carter was at a difficult age, but the things he had been doing lately were completely out of character. There hadn't been any conflict that she knew of that could've triggered his behavior. What had happened to the sweet, loyal kid that was her son?
Olivia believed in discipline, she really did. But she felt that punishment wouldn't help much in this case—what she really needed to do was get to the bottom of the issue.
"Carter," she began sternly. "Hayden said that you were very rude to her yesterday. What's more, you bit her arm. Haven't Daddy and I told you not to hurt others?"
"Yes, momma," he said innocently, turning his gray-green eyes to her. "But I told you—I wasn't mean to Hayden. I didn't bite her!"
"Don't lie, Carter. I saw the teeth marks on Hayden's arm, and she told me exactly what happened."
"Then Hayden's lying!" he said stubbornly. "Cause I didn't do it!"
Olivia rubbed her temples. "I'll talk to you more about this later. Maybe when I take away some of your privileges, you'll remember what you did to your sister. Now, put everything in your backpack for school tomorrow."
Carter stared at her. "But I don't have school tomorrow!"
"Carter, this isn't funny."
"It's only Saturday! Daddy took me to see the factory yesterday, remember?"
Olivia stared at her son, worry starting to creep into her mind. "Please stop joking, Carter. That was on Friday—two days ago. Today is Sunday."
"No, it's not!" Carter screeched, pudgy cheeks flushing with frustration.
He must just be in a bad mood, Olivia told herself. But a nagging suspicion that something was wrong appeared in her mind, a suspicion that only grew over the following three years.
"Let me clarify," the doctor said. He was a tall, severe man, used to seeing the wealthiest citizens of District 8. "Carter has been experiencing memory loss for three years now?"
"Yes," Olivia Stark replied, voice trembling slightly. "Ever since he was six, he goes through episodes where he acts strangely—more rash and competitive. It's led to some minor accidents."
The doctor paused and consulted his clipboard, a frown passing over his stern features. "Mr. and Mrs. Stark, it seems to me that your son has multiple personality disorder."
"What on earth is that?" Henry Stark asked, frowning.
"To put it simply, there are two people crammed into Carter's body. Gradually, his other personality has been becoming dominant more and more often. The memory loss should fade, but I'm afraid there's nothing you can do about it other than to treat both of them like normal children."
Carter blinked, swinging his legs excitedly. "That sounds right," he said. "We're starting to be able to talk to each other sometimes, too."
Olivia looked slightly horrified, but Henry just accepted the news with a nod.
"Like I said, treat the other personality the same way you'd treat Carter. I would start by giving him a separate name," the doctor told them.
"Can we call him Ben?" Carter asked. "I always wished my name was Ben."
"Ben it is," his father said brightly, gently squeezing Olivia's waist. "It'll be fine, Olivia," he murmured softly to his wife. "He's still our Carter. And our Ben."
"I dunno," Carter mused as he walked along the sidewalk with his friends. "I'm actually sort of happy that it's Reaping Day. No school, everyone's off work, the weather's great—it's not like one of us is going to get picked."
Yeah, right. You're just happy about it because you'll get to feast your eyes on Tayla at the Reaping. Ben's teasing words cut into Carter's thoughts. Try not to stare at her too much, okay? You'll embarrass me.
Carter's cheeks flushed as he whacked the side of his head.
Aw, I'm just kidding, Carter.
"Wait, let me guess," Connor Nassan, his closest friend, smirked. "Ben said something about you wanting to see Tayla."
Carter groaned. Tayla Belle was the most attractive girl in the district. She was also the only living victor in District Eight, having won the Games a few years back. Carter, as well as many other guys in the district, had a hopeless crush on her. Ben and all his friends knew about it and never ceased teasing him.
Declan just laughed, but behind him, his sister Natalie scowled darkly.
Dang, Natalie's got it good for us. Don't say anything else about Tayla, okay? You'll only piss her off more.
Yeah, yeah, Carter replied. She's Declan's sister—we can't really go out with her.
I guess you're right. Wouldn't want to ruin our relationship with any of these guys.
Carter could feel the affection behind Ben's words, an affection that they definitely shared. It was incredibly reassuring to always have Connor and Declan backing him up. Not everyone who found out about Ben accepted him as well as Carter's friends had.
"Shoot, we're gonna be late," Connor moaned, consulting his wristwatch. "Let's go!"
The teenagers ran towards the Reaping stage, and Carter smiled. Whatever happened, he would always have his friends by his side.
Odetta Huckleberry, District 8
Around, around, around. Odetta twirled and spun, slender limbs moving gracefully through the air as she hummed to herself.
Dancing washed it all away. The fear she felt about the Reaping, the worry that her sister and brother would never get enough to eat, and the hunger, most of all the hunger. That pain in her stomach that was always there, gnawing at her innards like some feral beast.
"Do you want me to sing you a song, Donna?" At her feet, her little sister sat, watching her with big eyes. Eight-year-old Donna looked so fragile, with her skinny little arms and flyaway blond hair. She was so small that it seemed a strong gust of wind could blow her over.
"Yes, sing to me!" The little girl said eagerly. "Sing a song from the old world."
Odetta paused. "I think I've sung all of them to you before."
"There must be one more," Donna begged.
Odetta's eyes suddenly lit up. "I've got one."
She pulled her sister to her feet and spun Donna around, then holding her arms as she sang. "Hush little baby, don't say a word, Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird don't sing, Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring."
Donna giggled as she sang. "I'm not a baby!"
"It's a lullaby, Donna. It's supposed to make you sleepy."
"I'm not sleepy. But it does sound pretty. And I wish I had a diamond ring," the girl sighed.
Something tore at Odetta's heart. If only she could, she would've bought Donna a million diamond rings. "I'll get you one," she promised. "One day."
"It's okay," Donna said, cuddling against her sister. "I don't really need one."
Odetta smiled as Donna sat down on the bed they shared, singing quietly to herself. "Hush little baby, don't say a word, Papa's gonna buy me a mockingbird. An' if that mockingbird don't sing, Papa's gonna buy me a diamond ring."
Could anyone even afford to buy anything for their children? Odetta mused, shaking her head sadly. Not in District 8, that's for sure.
"I'm hungry," Donna sighed. It wasn't a whine, just a statement. "So, so hungry."
"I know," Odetta said quietly. "I know. After the Reaping, Juliet will bring us food."
Thank goodness for Juliet. If Odetta's friend hadn't started to supply her family with food, she wasn't sure what might have happened to them. Her younger brother, Christopher, could sometimes manage to escape out to the prairie and catch some birds or rabbits, but it wasn't enough. Her father could've hunted to supply the family—if he wasn't constantly being observed by Peacekeepers.
The door to their small home suddenly clanged open as Christopher hurried in. "Anyone want to eat before the Reaping?" he asked excitedly.
Donna squealed in delight as she rushed to greet him. Odetta's stomach growled, and she sighed with relief. Christopher must've managed to get some meat and trade it for food.
"Just a little bit of bread, but it'll do," he said, passing some to his sisters. "The Peacekeepers are all busy getting ready for the Reaping."
Odetta glanced at him, feeling slightly worried. "You took some tesserae, didn't you?"
Christopher bit his lip, and she saw a flicker of nervousness in his eyes before he composed his face into the calm, set-in-stone mask that he usually adopted. Odetta always saw through it, of course. Sometimes people told her that she had a gift for knowing how people were feeling.
"It'll be fine," she said softly, putting a hand on his arm. Now she was sorry for bringing the topic up. "But we'd better go now. Stay here, Donna—Mom and Dad will be back to take you to the Reaping later."
"Okay," the little girl said, looking fearful for her siblings. The truth was, anyone's name could be picked out of that Reaping ball today. Nobody, not even the escort with her silly blue hair, knew who would be chosen.
"Odetta Huckleberry!" Odetta gasped as Jessica Flowers called her name out. Beside her, her friends let out cries of surprise.
Don't cry, don't cry! She told herself as she squeezed her eyes shut. She let out a choked sound and rushed up to the stage, blinking back the tears that pooled in the corners of her eyes.
They had a chair for her. How thoughtful.
"And for the boys," Jessica said breathlessly, "our tribute will be… Carter Stark!"
Odetta blinked as a boy with dark brown hair slowly stepped up to the stage, looking disbelieving. She didn't recognize him, but then he was coming from the seventeen-year-olds section.
As the people dispersed, bulky Peacekeepers gripped her arms. She stumbled as they escorted her towards the Justice Building—where she would say her goodbyes.
Odetta entered the wide doors of the Roman-style building, filled with fear. She didn't want to say goodbye to her family. She didn't want to see Donna crying or Christopher looking at the floor with his emotionless mask on, unwilling to meet her gaze. She wanted to remember them as happy, cheerful people, not family members despairing over her imminent death.
Imminent death. The thought caused her to burst into tears. She would try, of course she would, but she had to face facts: she probably wasn't going to make it out of this alive.
She only cried harder as her family came in. She had planned on trying to hold herself together for them, but that was impossible now.
Odetta saw Donna hugging her leg through the tears, and she tried to curb the sobs. They refused to stop, going on and on and on until she thought that she must have soaked the chair she was sitting on.
"Hush little baby, don't say a word," she vaguely heard Donna singing the song in a trembling voice. "Donna's gonna buy you a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird don't sing, Donna's gonna buy you a diamond ring."
Donna pressed an object into her palm. She felt cool metal against her hand and looked down at a little ring set with a large, sparkling stone.
Oh. She had forgotten that she owned the ring. Though it certainly wasn't diamond, it was still a sweet gesture, and she wrapped her arms around Donna.
"It can be your token," Donna sniffed. "You're allowed to bring something into the arena, right?"
"Yes," she said quietly. "Thank you."
She felt her parents squeezing her hands and Christopher touching her shoulder, and suddenly she was glad that they had come to say goodbye.
Carter Stark, District 8
Carter sighed and rested his head against the window as the landscape blurred past.
Hey, things aren't too bad, Ben told him, undoubtedly trying to cheer him up. Tayla's gonna be our mentor, right?
Carter didn't respond for a while. You know that we're going to die.
Ben paused. Don't give up. Not yet. We can do this, Carter. Everyone else just has themselves, but we have each other. We can win this thing.
Don't try to be optimistic. It's not helping.
I'm planning it out, Carter! We can form an alliance with a bunch of kids from the outer districts and take down the Careers. It'll work!
"I'm not doing that," he snapped out loud.
The girl sitting beside him, Odetta, gave him a strange look. "What?"
"Nothing. Sorry. Just talking to myself." He definitely did not want to let any other tribute find out about Ben.
Great. Now she thinks you're a weirdo. We might've convinced her to join the alliance, too…
Will you just shut up? Carter mentally hissed.
Ben didn't reply. Carter hoped he hadn't hurt his feelings—the two had a good relationship and rarely argued. But this was the Hunger Games, and if the two of them had different strategies… things wouldn't work out very well.
Carter's mind was quiet. Sometimes he had wished that Ben could go away, that he would be normal. But right now? What Ben had said was right. They were lucky to have each other for now.
For once, the silence in his head didn't seem so peaceful.
Author's Note: Here's a question to answer in the reviews- which of the tributes do you feel most emotionally attached to so far (excluding your own, of course)?
Anyway, I'm going to be in Mexico for a week starting tomorrow, so it'll be a while before I post the next Reaping. Sorry about that!