Reapings:
District Seven:
Absalom Sawyer's POV:
I woke up to screaming. I groaned, sandwiching my head between two pillows. When that didn't help, I sat upright on my bed and yelled in a loud clear voice. "WOULD YOU TWO SHUT IT FOR ONCE!?"
The screaming ceased, if only for mere seconds. About three full heartbeats passed before my parents; voices rang through the house once more. I let out a cry of frustration and jumped off the bed. Not only was I in a bad mood, but my parents were trying their level best to make things even worse.
I poked my head out the door of my room. "Mom, Dad, I won't say this again. I'm in a rotten mood, and I'm begging you not to aggravate it!" I pleaded. My parents spun around to face me, stopping mid-yell. My mother glared at my father. Then she looked at me with a skeptical expression on her face.
"Absalom, you do remember what today is, right?" She asked, looking me up and down. I rolled my eyes. I'd gotten used to this over the course of six long years. I sighed.
"Yes Mom. It's Reaping Day. But really, be a little considerate for your kid. It's my last reaping, and I'm trying to get a good sleep before going out there!" I exclaimed. My mother crossed her arms, frowning.
"Absalom, you've already overslept. It's only about an hour till the Reapings, and you're still in pajamas. The Square is far from our place and it'll take us at least half-an-hour to get there. And if your father keeps up his adamant thoughts of not selling that rickety piece of nonsense he has the mind to call a car, it'll take us more. So keeping all that in mind, GET READY!"
My father cast me an exasperated look as my mother turned around and stormed into the kitchen. I only laughed. My parents were wonderful and loving, but sometimes they acted so immature, it was hard to figure out who was more childish, Mom or Dad. I shut the door and head to my wardrobe. My mother may have been hotheaded when she'd said this, but that didn't make it wrong. I needed to get ready for the Reapings.
I took out a simple white shirt and some khakis. After washing up my face and smelling slightly more human, I threw on my clothes and picked up a comb. I took a deep breath. This would take effort. My brown hair was shaggy and messy, never staying down. No matter how hard I combed it, it refused to look normal. People said I took after my Dad in my messy brown hair and brown eyes. My stature, like his, was tall and well built. I wouldn't say I was extremely muscular or anything, but being over six feet tall, I did look bigger than most others.
My family was an average one here in Seven. In fact, one could say we were a tad above average, being one of the families which were better off. My Dad worked the usual job of a lumberjack, and he was the head of his team. Each team took a certain area of the forests, and my Dad had unanimously been chosen as the leader. My mother also worked in the market, selling jewelry make from barks of different trees. She had a natural hand at this art, and it was incredible, what she could make from a simply brown piece of wood.
This was my last year of Reaping. Next year, I'd be freed from the worry of the Hunger games. To say I had mixed feelings was an understatement. As an eighteen-year-old, my name was in there seven times, added to the eight tessarae I took out. I had a higher chance of being Reaped this year, but it was also my last year. If I managed to get through this, I wouldn't have to worry ever again.
I threw the comb onto my bed, finally exhausted my will of combing my hair. If the damn thing wouldn't stay down, it wouldn't stay down. I couldn't do anything about it. I headed out the door and was greeted by firm looks from my parents.
"And just how long does it take you, young man?" My mother reprimanded. I rolled my eyes. "Mom, really. I took a grand total of five minutes. And blame Dad. I inherited his un-comb-able hair after all." I told her.
Heaving an exaggerated sigh, she turned around and unlocked the door to our house, leading me through. The three of us were just about to enter our 'car', when I remembered something. I turned to my parents. "Mom, wait. I forgot my token." I said, already running towards our door. I thre it open, finding it to my pleasure that Mom had forgotten to lock it. I grabbed my token from my table and ran back out. My mother locked the door properly after me, cursing herself for being so forgetful.
As we set off, I took a long hard look at my token, which was a tad ridiculous; I'd seen it a billion times. It was given to me by my best friend Verne Woodward. The two of us were the only friends we had. Verne was the most quiet and reserved person I'd ever met, and people found it simply hard to trust me. Verne would always tell me it was because I tended to be serious and brooding around strangers. I always responded by telling him he acted like a serial killer around strangers.
Still, I couldn't deny the fact that Verne was correct. It took him five years since the time we met at the age of ten, to gain my full trust. I usually avoided conversing with strangers, and even if someone wanted to start up a conversation, they would most likely lose interest after a few minutes, owing to my scarce and serious responses to even a 'hilarious' joke. Verne always told me I gave off a very strong 'have something up my sleeve' vibe, which tended to shoo away people like flies.
My parents sat in the front seats, arguing (as usual) about something stupid. I didn't bother trying to figure out what it was. I simply started fiddling with some strings coming out of the seat. I tried in vain to push the thoughts of the reapings from my mind. I just couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen…
Dominique "Nick" Noelle's POV:
I swung my axe, chopping the branch clean off. It fell straight down, clubbing my best friend Connor Sanders in the head. He let out a cry and held his head.
I burst out laughing, along with my other best friend Matthew Mitchell. The two of us, within minutes were laughing so hysterically, it took effort to stay up in the branch. "Nick!" Krista Adams scolded, limping over to Connor who was currently glaring up at me.
"Nick, I coulda died!" Connor exaggerated. I gave him an expression of mock guilt. "My apologies thy majesty! Forgive me!" I cried, putting my hands together in a 'begging' gesture. Matthew just laughed harder, tears escaping his eyes.
"Honestly you two. One would think you'd act a bit more like sixteen-year olds than five year olds." Krista said, examining Connor's head, which, needless to say, was perfectly fine. I'd purposely picked a small branch.
Matt and I leaped down from the tree and strutted over to our friends, still laughing. "Krista, telling Nick and Matt to grow up is like telling the President of Panem to stop the Hunger Games. Never. Happening." Connor said. He looked our way and let a smile escape his features. I smirked and winked at them.
"See? Someone has brains!" I patted Connor on his back. He simply shook his head and took n axe from Matt, who was having a little trouble carrying the three axes. "Come on guys. Reapings' in an hour and all of you look like mud cakes learned to walk." Krista said. She steadied her crutches and started walking away. The three of us exchanged shrugs and followed her.
Krista was the level-headed and mature one in our group. Connor was also mature, but he couldn't stop himself from trying out pranks now and then. Matt and I on the other hand were as far from 'mature' as possible.
Krista's crutches happened a few years ago. A wrongly felled tree collapsed on her, crushing her right leg from below the knee. The crushed part had to be amputated; she'd had crutches ever since then.
The four of us belonged to average families in Seven. We never struggled to keep the food on the table, but we didn't lead lavish lives either. Sure, I had taken out tessarae. Sure my name was in there ten times. But I mean really, twelve year olds in the outer districts had their names in more times than I did.
My father worked as a lumberjack, under the leadership of a kind yet workaholic man called Hamilton Sawyer. He had a son, who was two years older than me. I could never remember the chap's name.
My mother was, well… a little… different ever since the death of my uncle, her twin brother. My uncle had protested against a whipping at the square, and earned a bullet in his head for his deed. Living in Panem, one realized quickly that no good deed goes unpunished. Since that day, my mother had been unstable, on the edge.
As I walked up to the door of my place, I waved good-bye to my friends. Krista smiled at me while Connor and Matt gave me high fives. They turned their ways and walked off; I pounded the knocker against the door. We couldn't afford a doorbell, so we made do with a knocker which had rusted to great lengths about ten years ago.
The door was opened by my elder brother Flint. "Heavens, Nick! It's only about twenty minutes till Reapings! Where in devil's name have you been!?" He cried, slapping his forehead. I looked at my watch, then back at him.
"Um, no. There's still an hour left." I said. "Well, your watch is slow, 'cause there's only twenty minutes left!" Flint shot back. Being eighteen, this year was his last reaping.
"Mom, Dad, we're going to the Reapings! Come on!" Flint called out. He turned back to me and looked me up and down. I realized I was still in my sweaty, dirty and not to mention muddy clothes from the trees. He shrugged. "Well, fashion doesn't really matter, does it?"
I laughed. My father was going to have a fit, but it didn't matter. My parents appeared in the doorway, my father leading my mother by her hands. Flint locked the door behind them, and the four of us started walking towards the Square. I could feel my father's eyes on me.
"Don't gimme that look, Dad. I know that look. It's the today-is-Reaping-Day-and-I-am-in-atrocious-clothes-and-probably-smell-like-rat-poop-and-not-to-mention-am-late-for-the-damn-Reapings look. I've seen it about four times." I turned back to tell him. His only response was a light huff of air. My mother burst into a fit of giggles. I smiled at her, while Flint just smirked.
"See, Nick? Even Dad knows arguing with you is fruitless." He said. I laughed and turned away, trying to ignore the weird bubbly feeling in my chest.
We reached the Square just in time to see our escort getting ready to prance up to the stage. Shine was definitely one of the better escorts, but that wasn't saying all that much. Her bright pink hair stood out in all different directions, and her clothes simply shone too much. I found my place over at the sixteen-year-old girl's section, beside Krista, who had also, like me, ended up at the back due to reaching late. She gave me a tight smile. Everyone had to be nervous at this point of time, eh?
I simply winked at her. It was my policy of never being nervous or worried, and even if I was, never showing it. Humor always had a way of driving out pain, worry and not to mention fear. Shine walked up to the microphone and gripped it, her green fingernails glinting.
"Welcome, people of District Seven! Without much further ado, let us see our two brave warriors for this year's Hunger Games!" She said. I liked the fact that she didn't beat around the bush and got to work. She walked up to the boy's bowl and fished out a name.
"Absalom Sawyer!"
My father's boss' son! The dude who's name I couldn't remember! I watched as a tall, well-built bloke made his way out of the eighteen-year-old section, his arms shaking at his sides, his eyes red. He was clearly trying not to cry, and was doing a good job of it too. When he reached the stage, Shine asked him whether he wanted to address the audience. He just shook his head, looking forward. Shine shrugged and made her way to the girl's bowl. I could feel my mind praying to every god above that it wasn't my name.
It wasn't.
"Krista Adams!"
I could feel my heart stop. My eyes went wide and I looked at Krista, who seemed shocked beyond belief. "This can't be…" she said, her eyes already brimming with tears.
"Krista Adams please?" Shine called again. The peacekeepers were making their way towards us, probably having figured out who Krista was. She took a shaky breath, trying to control her emotions.
My mind was on overdrive. Krista had crutches. She wouldn't make it through the bloodbath, let alone return home victorious. I was about to lose my best friend. I wasn't known for making the cleverest decisions. I wasn't known for thinking stuff out too much. And in that moment, I lived up to my reputation.
"No." I said, grabbing Krista's arm as she started walking towards the stage. I looked up at Shine, above the heads of the crowd in front of me.
"I volunteer as tribute!"
"NO!" Krista cried, trying to take my hand. She had a little trouble keeping herself up on the crutches while holding my hand. I shook it off and smiled. "Hey, mate, I'm sorry okay?" I said.
I stepped out, and felt my arms being grabbed by the Peacekeepers as they started 'escorting' me towards the podium. "AY!" I yelled, enraged. The sheer volume of my command made them stop. "Do you not see my two arms and legs? Am I incapable of walking five meters by myself?" I snapped at them, my face staring back at me from the reflection in their masks. They stepped away, probably seeing some logic.
I walked up to the stage and Shine smiled at me. "Well hello there! A volunteer! May I have the name?" She asked. I glared at her, all my previous liking gone. "Nick." I stated simply. Shine frowned. "No dear, I think the records demand your full name." she said.
I exhaled. I couldn't look all weak and angsty in front of the whole country. I was going into the Games. I might as well have looked and acted the part. I shoved all my anger and fear to the back of my mind and looked at the escort with a more normalized expression. "Dominique. Dominique Noelle." I corrected.
"Ahhh, what a nice name. And do you want to say something?" Shine held the microphone to my mouth, practically shoving the metal surface into my teeth. I stole a glance at the big screen. Staring back at me was a live footage view of myself. I looked like I'd been rolling in dirt the whole of the previous night. My choppy black hair was disheveled, and my clothes were sweaty and muddy. My eyes held a gleam in them. I decided to play along the lines of my appearance.
"Um…" I started. May as well act like myself, I thought. "the cow goes moo?"
One could have heard a pin drop in the audience at my bizarre statement. I laughed, shaking my head. "Sorry, I was kidding with that. Uh, so, next time you see me, hopefully I'll be alive, not in a box." I said. Shine seemed to be at a loss of words, and Absalom and I simply shook hands. He was giving me a wide-eyed look, but then again, the whole of Panem probably was too.
As we were led into the justice building, I simply couldn't think of a way to show my face to my family.
Absalom Sawyer's POV:
I knew my District partner. Her father worked under Dad. The girl seemed to be a little strange, joking about when she'd just volunteered for the Games, but it took guts to do what she did. Volunteering for a friend wasn't common.
I, on the other hand, was a completely different case. I simply couldn't take in the fact that I was actually going into the Games. It was my last year. Last-bloody-year. Couldn't my name stay in the bowl for just one more year?
The door to the waiting room flew open and in stumbled my parents, both looking distraught. They wrapped me in their arms, my mother shaking with sobs. She pulled away and held my face. "It was your last year…" she said.
"Listen son. You're good at work. You're tough. We're gonne be seeing you again, okay? Don't give up on us." My father said. My mother wiped away her tears and regained the strong expression she always had.
"I won't let them take my son away from me, you hear that Hamilton? Absalom, you're coming back to us, or I'm going to show those capitolites what District Seven women can do." she said. I nodded.
"I can't promise you guys anything, but I sure as hell will try." I said. My parents gave me one last hug before the Peacekeeper opened the door. "Time's up!" He called. My mother's expression grew angry.
"Are you telling me you're about to take away the last few minutes I have with my son before he goes into those dreadful Games of yours? Well, sir, if it's all the same to you, I think I'll stay!" she snapped. I stifled a laugh, despite the situation, thinking what the Peacekeepers expression must've been.
"Teresa-" my father started.
"No Hamilton!" Mom turned to me. "Absalom, don't let them take you away from us. I know you can come back, dear. And I know you will." She said. I took her hand in mine and blinked slowly, telling her in an unspoken gesture that I would try m best.
"Hey, time's up! Move it!" The Peacekeeper yelled again. My father put his arms around my mother's shoulders and led her out, but not before giving me a final hug. My mother passed a cold glare towards the Peacekeeper on her way out.
The next to visit me was Verne, at which I wasn't surprised at all. He didn't say anything, just gave me the biggest bear-hug ever. He pulled away and put an arm on my shoulder.
"This year's victor's gonna be you, mate." He said. I laughed. "Well, I sure hope so. Hopes, though, aren't always fulfilled."
"I know. But you have the skill. You can use an axe and a chainsaw. Get some sponsors, maybe form an alliance. People'll like you; you look big enough to catch attention." Verne said, his expression almost angry. I nodded thoughtfully.
"Thanks Verne. Thanks for everything." I managed. Verne raised an eyebrow. "Everything?"
I smiled. "Not everyone likes to be best friends with a chap who never talks to strangers."
Verne laughed, which was something he hadn't done in a while. When the Peacekeeper was back, demanding his leave, Verne gave me a meaningful look before leaving.
My parents and friend were waiting for me. I needed to make it back. I had a fairly good build; getting allies shouldn't have been a problem. I would try my best to get sponsors, for I would need them in the Games.
I sighed. I wouldn't say I had this in my hand, but I would make sure everyone saw Absalom Sawyer as a threat, not a weakling.
Dominique "Nick" Noelle's POV:
"Choking…" I squeaked, as my father crushed my ribs in a hug. "I can't believe you did that Nick. That was literally the brave, annoying, ridiculously good thing you would be expected to do." Flint said. He had tears in his eyes, but was trying his best to not let them flow. My mother was sobbing uncontrollably, which did absolutely nothing to reduce the guilt I felt.
My father pulled away and wiped the tears from his cheeks. "Nick, you're a fighter. Please, I don't think your mother can stand losing you after she lost Bruce. I don't think she can handle the blow. And I don't think I can either. I refuse t lose you, you understand?" he said, his voice breaking. I could feel my eyes start to water, but I shoved the tears back. "You got it Dad." I told him.
"Nick!" my mother exclaimed, running over and throwing her arms around me. "Please don't leave!" She exclaimed. I smiled. "Don't you worry Mom. You aint getting rid of me so easily." I patted her back.
Our family was swept into another hug, wrapped in the strong hands of my father. It seemed mere moments had passed before the Peacekeeper was poking his head in, telling them they had to leave. My parents pulled away and gave me a kiss on my forehead. My father led my mother out, supporting her sobbing form, but Flint stayed back.
"You're gonna do this, aren't you? You're gonna bloody come back to us." He said. I laughed. "I'll try bro. But, just in case I don't…" my voice broke, but I wanted to finish my sentence. "Find a good use for my room, would ya? Don't rent it out to some weirdo."
Flint's unshed tears finally pushed through the barrier, falling in a steady stream down is cheeks. He stepped forward to give me a hug, but was literally yanked out by the Peacekeeper. I wiped furiously at my eyes, trying to stop my own tears.
The door flew open a second time, and in came my best friends. Matt and Connor looked furious, and Krista was sobbing so bad, I was afraid the water loss would dehydrate her. She came over to me and slapped me straight across my face.
"You idiot! You utter idiot! Why did you do that!?" she exclaimed. I smirked. "Last I checked, it was to save your damn life."
"You think I can live with myself if you die in the arena!?" She threw her arms around me, crying into my shoulder. Matt and Connor joined our embrace, their brotherly addition doing nothing to help me keep my resolve of not crying.
The four pulled away, and Matt gave me a hard look. "You're gonna come back. I don't care how, but you're gonn make it out of the arena. Alive."
"For the first time, Matt's right. Nick, you're good with the axes. Use that. Get some sponsors. Just come back to us." Connor added. Krista wiped her face dry (somewhat) and fished something out of her pocket. She pushed it into my palm, and I examined it closely. It was a brass compass, roughly half the length of my pinkie in diameter. On top, the names "Nick, Matthew, Krista And Connor." Were engraved in beautiful cursive. I didn't know how they'd gotten this, but I was thankful for it all the same. I looked up at Krista, who'd started tearing up again. Her voice broke when she said her next words.
"Find your way back to home, will ya?"
~.~.~.~.~.
A/N: Aww, I'm so darned mean, aren't I? Well, I think I've officially gone from 100% to 110% loopy after seeing this story cross a hundred reviews. LIKE OMG YOU GUYS ARE SO AWESOME I CANT EVEN BEGIN TO DESCRIBE HOW HAPPY YOU'VE MADE ME LIKE HECK YEAHUS! Shout-out to every single one of my reviewers and readers; you guys are the best-est. Not just the best. The best-est.
*looks around for the soul of English Language which will haunt the dreams forever*
Thank you to Josephm611 and WGGTD1916 for the amazing tributes! I loved writing about them so much. And yes, if anyone was thinking, Absalom's token isnt revealed. I just felt like revealing it later. Hehe.
Right. Reply time!
To Santiago. Poncini20: Thank you for the tribute! Hartley is amazing and deserved justice! I like him, don't worry! And I really didn't know that about Avena's name; It was cool and a tad strange to find out, but awesome nonetheless!
To Josephm611: Oh It's okay! I understand! It's okay too to not like every single tribute, and I respect your opinions! And I agree: Not all are innocent at all. :)
To Mystical Pine Forest: I liked Avena too! They're both nice tributes! Hope you liked this chapter too!:)
To lifelong potterhead: Really, your compliments make me feel so much better about my writing! And if you're running out of things to say, you could always give me suggestions and thoughts on the tributes; I'd love to hear *cough* read *cough* them. ;)
To Reader Castellan: Thank you! I liked them too! I can see that almost everyone liked Avena. Hehe. Thanks for the compliment! Hope this chapter was good!
To Embers to Ashes: Thank you so much! I'm glad you liked it! I like Avena too! Hope this was good too!
To chasing-wonderland: Oh it's fine! Oh and you spelt it mostly correct, 'cept it's Siobhan not Siobahn. But I'm so glad you like her! And also, I'm so glad I was able to do Avena justice; she's a really great character! Poor Hartley, eh? Hope this was good! And also, congratulations on being the 100th reviewer!
To AgentWriter: The tributes better keep an eye out. I felt really bad for Hartley too, and they really are great characters! I'm glad you like Avena! Hope you liked this chapter too! :)
To Sally the Lioness: Dang, you were the only person to notice that! Even I didn't! And I think everyone felt at least a ted bad for Hartley… I'm so happy you liked Avena!
To MidnightRaven323: I understand. Exam time is hard… I liked Law's catchphrase too! And I'm so glad Avena wasn't a Mary-Sue. That would've been bad. I'll try to put more info about Hartley as the story progresses! Hope this chapter was good!
To deny: Aww, thank you so much! Their backgrounds were different indeed. The creators deserve some serious credit. Hope this chapter's good!
To maliceismyname: Like I said, we all feel bad for Hartley. I'm glad you liked them! :)
To Guest: Thank you! Hope this was good too! :)
Keep reading, reviewing, favouriting, following and whatever other nice stuff you guys feel like! Also, feel absolutely free to PM me with suggestion, requests and advice; I love to hear from you guys. And if I hadn't mentioned this. OMG 100+ REVIEWS HAHAHAHAHAHAH!
Oh, and Hands up if anyone caught the Power of Five reference. ;)
See ya next time!