District 9 is here. Nearly to the end. So close I can almost feel it. I don't know much about this district but I do like bread so I wrote about bread.
Quinoa Rye, D9F, 16
I wake up to the sound of birds outside the little house. Their chirping echoes through the forest where I live. A sudden gust of wind makes the leaves rustle and the birds flee. It's like they know what is happening today.
There isn't much to do today with the reapings going on everyone is supposed to take a break. Some people work but they risk consequences if they're caught. I work in the mills that are scattered around the district as well as out in the fields gathering the wheat and other forms of grain.
It's not a bad job but it definitely is tiresome. I look out the window once more, the district now devoid of any bird sounds. Only the wind as it whistles through the canopies of the surrounding woods.
Doing a long awaited stretch to loosen my bones, I go straight downstairs to the bathroom. The smell of freshly made bread lingers around the house. My mum must've been baking bread again. It's the only thing that's abundant in this district: bread. Yet I never get sick of it.
"Morning Quinoa!" My mother pipes through the kitchen and I reciprocate with my own greeting.
Once inside the bathroom I turn the tap on and let some water pour into the bucket. Our house is small, there's no shower or anything. My dad got a bargain on this house and he stood by it. I think it's a good idea also but my mum took a bit of adjusting.
She loves it here now though, we live beside one of the mills. There's also a small field of gold nearby where we can harvest and sell or use for our own. Even though we look poor, we're not too far from it. I wait till the water is at least warm before washing my face with it.
When I finished, I quickly make my way back upstairs to my room to get dressed and ready for the reapings. I just wish it's over already so I can get back to work. Work is the only thing that keeps me going. I don't really know anything else other than to work, make bread and well live.
"Hurry up Quinoa!" My mother shouts.
"I'll be there in a second!" I shout back, tying my hair back into a bun. I had a gingham pattern dress on that's lacy at the ends.
Once I finish checking things in the mirror I'm back down the stairs, grabbing a piece of bread from the kitchen counter. I tell my parents that I'll see them after the reapings before saying goodbye.
Passing by fields of yellow and gold, I make a dash for the square. Ignoring the people that gives me a warm smile or a friendly hello. It may seem rude but they're used to me running about. I make a stop when I see a person just standing looking out at the fields of grain.
"Are you okay?" I say approaching the pale looking person.
She didn't respond to my question, instead just looking at me with her light brown eyes. She offers me a small smile before looking back at the fields. She gives an off vibe but I'm confident I've seen her before. I start to walk away when I hear her talk for the first time.
"Isn't it beautiful?" She asks me.
"It is." I answer looking to where she is looking.
"I'm glad you think that way." She turns to me and offers another smile before staring back.
I don't think much of her as I continue my way to the square. I didn't bother meeting up with friends, they'll see me after the reapings. We did promise to hang out afterwards as if to celebrate that we didn't get reaped.
I got there just in time for the first tribute to be picked. Our escort comes out of the Justice Building looking, well golden. From his hair all the way to his suit. Clearly mirroring the fields I so mention every time it comes to mind. He looks happy as he walks towards the first glass bowl.
"I wish you all luck!" He shouts, clearly having the opposite of the desired effect. "I'm going to pick from the girl's bowl first!"
He dips his hand slowly as he takes a piece of paper. Unfolding it with such a slow rate. He reads the name written down on the paper before repeating it for the whole of Panem no doubt.
"The female tribute this year is…"
I hold my breath as he pauses.
"…Quinoa Rye!"
Brandon Millet, D9M, 16
I wake up like any other morning. I know what today is but I choose to ignore it. There's nothing good that comes out of it. Just two more years. I just have to survive two more years of this crap and I'll live a happy life. Probably not have any children because I don't want them to go through the Hunger Games.
I sigh as my brother walks into our joined room dressed up already for the reapings. It's quite early in the morning and he's ready for the day. I shake my head as I look at him and then he stares at me back.
"What?" He asks fixing his clothes.
"Nothing. Just wondering why you're up early."
"I don't know why." He says. "I think it's because it's my last year?"
That's got to be it. Emmerson was two years older than me and how I envy him so much. Sure he's my brother and he's a cool guy but to think he survived the reapings. I get up from the bed and immediately stretch. My brother tells me to get ready and I just nod before going to the bathroom.
After my rather quick wash in the bathroom I got into my reaping clothes: an ironed long-sleeved white dress shirt which I tuck into my beige coloured trousers. These have been the same style of clothing every year. Despite me being tall this particular outfit just somehow stays with me; as if it's growing along with me.
It's stupid but I believe in that.
"Brandon!" I can hear my mother shout. "Have some breakfast before you go and hurry or you'll be late!"
"Coming!"
I rush towards the kitchen where Emmerson is already tucking into some bread. Mother always insists on making bread every time there's a reaping. I find that rather sweet of her but at the same time sickening to think that she's made a tradition out of it.
"Here." She hands me one with a smile.
I take a bite of the bread to find that there's some form of jam in the middle. That's new. I savour the taste of the sweet jam as I finish it up. I smile at my mom as she cleans up the surface. She's already dressed for the reapings but still donned an apron.
"Thanks mom." I say giving her a hug before telling Emmerson that it's time to go.
We say our goodbyes before heading for the square. Our house isn't that far from it unlike others that have to travel quite a distance. That doesn't necessarily mean our family is rich either. My mother works as a baker and it helps us live. Emmerson and I work in the farms, nearer the edge of the district. Our father, well I've not seen him for a long time.
He's now worth thinking about. That's what my mother says anyways. It's funny because I don't remember him at all. Emmerson says he was a cool guy but he had some sort of temper; something he sees in myself as well.
That's true. I do have a short fuse and it can take the smallest thing to make me angry. However, I'm beginning to be able to control it.
"Well here we are." Emmerson says as he lines up for registration.
A sharp prick of the finger and we separate ways into our respective areas. I look back to him, standing near the edge of the group. He nods to me and mouths a 'good luck'. I did the same before looking forward to where the mayor had begun to talk.
My mind drifts to where the escort sat. He looks ridiculous but that's pretty normal for them so I just leave it. I move my eyes to an empty seat beside the escort. It struck me that there is a current living victor for district nine. Where is she though?
I didn't even notice the escort get up from his seat and headed towards the girl's bowl. Taking a slip of paper and opening it. He reads it slowly trying to get the name right before looking back at the audience.
"Quinoa Rye!"
I see a slightly nervous girl walk up the stage, she looks around once she's up on the stage. Fear prominent on her light green eyes. Then her face changes from nervous to some sort of confidence, although her eyes are still the same.
"Well that's one down." The escort, who I believe introduced himself as Thaddeus, says. "Let's find out who her district partner is shall we?"
Just as slowly as he did the previous one, Thaddeus takes a slip of paper from the glass bowl reading it to himself first then looks to the audience.
"The male tribute this year is...Brandon Millet!"
My eyes widen from my name being called out. I can picture my mother begin to cry. I ball my fist as I turn to look at my brother. He looks to me, something brewing in his mind. He's going to volunteer for me. I don't want that to happen though. I quickly shake my head, mouthing the word 'no' over and over again.
"Come on up Brandon!" I hear Thaddeus cry out.
I make my way to the stage, hands still scrunched up with some sort of anger. Somehow I just feel that rage brewing up within me. I look to the crowd, seeing my brother have an internal battle whether or not to volunteer in my place.
To make things worse Thaddeus decides to ask for volunteers. Luckily for me Emmerson decided not to volunteer. Despite being at the far back of the tributes I can see the disappointment in himself for not volunteering.
"I guess there's no volunteers?" Thaddeus asks rhetorically. "Well here are your tributes this year!"
Just like that Quinoa and I are ushered inside the building and led to two different rooms. It didn't take long for my mother and brother to come in gathering to my side. I receive a smack on the head from my brother but I ignore it.
"Why?" He cries out, tears falling on the white carpet. "Why didn't you let me volunteer in your place?"
My mother continues to silently cry as she hugs me. She didn't know what to say, there is nothing to say that can make it feel better. All you can do for me now is hope. I can see my brother's tears fall one by one. It's a pretty sad scene but I stay strong. My mother pulls away from the hug and looks at me.
She holds my head with her hands. She rubs her thumbs on my cheek whilst she cries. I've never seen her like this before. She's usually a happy person, not one thing can make her day seem sad but now here she is.
"I love you." She says. "Do your best because I'll be waiting."
"I will."
I stand up, pulling her up with me. I give her one final hug, then move onto my brother. He's sad now but I want him to know that I did this so he can protect mom. Now that he's old enough to not be reaped he can take care of her.
"Take care of her for me." I whisper into his ear, making sure mom doesn't hear me.
He only nods at my request, he pulls away from the hug and smiles. That's when the peacekeeper opens the door leading my family away from me, possibly to never see again. I give them one last goodbye before waiting in the hallway for Quinoa to finish.
Quinoa Rye, D9F, 16
I must look pretty confident when I got reaped right? Probably, it's true that I was nervous at first but now I can be confident. I'm pretty sure that I can win if I train hard enough.
Waiting inside this white room is eerie, everything is practically white except for the roses which are a bright pink in colour. The fireplace that looks like it's not been used at all. It almost feels cold in here. I shiver at the thought of what awaits me.
Stay confident.
"Quinoa!" My mom shouts as soon as the door opens, she rushes towards me.
I hug her tightly never wanting to let go at all. I can hear her sobs, her pleads. It feels like we just stood here and cried our hearts out. She finally pulls away from the hug and looks me in the eyes.
"Please, please win for us." She tells me although I think she knows the answer to that.
"I will." My reply was quick. "I'll come back to you."
She gives me one final hug and hands me her ring. A brass ring with no significance other than my name engraved on it. I look at her with wide eyes. Before I can ask her about it she is told to leave by the peacekeepers. She gives me a kiss on the forehead before leaving. Turning one last time to give me a smile.
Then that was it. I put on the ring and walk to the hallway where Brandon stood. He looks at me before extending his hands to formerly greet me.
"I guess we're district partners."
"Yeah. I guess we are." I say shaking his hand.
Quinoa and Brandon looks like they're going to be allies. Thoughts?