Hito Wardon: District 9

I open my eyes to yet another day of torture. I roll of my make shift bed of stacked blankets and pillows. It's not that my family can't afford another bed; it's that my douche bag of a father stole my actual mattress when I yelled at him for slapping my mom… again. I've hated that dick-head since I can remember.

Lee Wardon. He's been my 'father' for sixteen years now, but it sure doesn't seem like it. His dark, demeaning eyes scare me and piss me off almost as much as the sight of his hand raised high in the air to hit me of my mom. He wasn't always this way; the fire is what sealed me and my mother's fate.

When I was 9 the rebellion was in full swing. The rebels from the lower Districts had made their way up through to District 9. In the war our District chose to stay with the Capitol, for strategic reasons, while we still despised them at heart, we knew there was no way we could win the war. Anyway, the rebels invaded District 9 and set it aflame. As my home burnt to the ground my young mind was encouraged to reenter my home to retrieve my childhood toy. The venture led to severe burns, scars, and overall depression. Unfortunately my father only suffered 1 of those injuries, and he's been taking his depression out on me and my mom for years.

I look out the large sliding glass windows that dominate my otherwise Asian inspired room. The summer sky is scattered with frothy white clouds, shining a brilliant white in the sun. As the sky seems to blend with the walls of my room as my sleepy vision blurs, it's as if elaborately painted Chinese dragons fly over the skyline.

I go to my closet and pull out my tradition silk, stiff collared shirt, which I've used every year for the Annual Reaping's. While most traditional shirt of this style is bright and designed, mine is stark black from neck to waist. I slip into thin blue jeans and stalk down the steps to greet the awful day that I'm sure this is going to be.

(-)

When I enter my foyer to the right of my stairwell, I'm surprised to see Claire waiting for me.

"Hey," I say to quickly and awkwardly, "Um, what's up?"

"Your dad's working until the Reaping's begin and your mother is having tea with my mother." She says flashing me a pearly smile, "She sent me to make sure you were awake."

My reply is cut off by shock as I take in Claire's appearance. Her usually wavy black now hangs in straight strands around her thin face. Her olive skin is covered by a tight, black, one shouldered dress and a large necklace hanging heavily around her frail neck. Her expensive black heels make usually height reach up to mine, but although her beauty is stunning, I still think of her as a friend; nothing more.

Claire just recently got me to open up to her, and although I will entrust minor problems in her, I don't believe there is anyone in the world I can trust 100%; everyone disappoints you eventually.

"Hello?" Claire says, waving a hand in front of my face, "Anyone in there?"

I laugh and give her a friendly shove, "Come on," I say lightly, "We better get going I want to go see my mom." I lead Claire out the door and onto the street as the cool breeze, providing relief from the summer heat, blows the wind through my dark Asian hair and tickles my eyes.

Claire giggles as I blow the thin hair from my eyes. "You look beautiful, by the way," she says, gesturing to my silk shirt.

I raise an eyebrow, "I don't think being 'beautiful' is necessarily a compliment to a sixteen year-old boy." We laugh and continue walking down the road, making small talk on everything from our outfits to our classes for Fall Semester, until we reach the coffee shop where our mothers sit. They see us coming through the window and wave us into the small shop. I open the heavy door for Claire and am instantly hit by the smell of freshly c=ground coffee beans and herbs; it gives me a buzz.

Claire and I pull up two orange chairs to the table where our mothers sit. I say hi to Claire's mom and smile at my mom, Sarah. Her yellow hair is illuminated by the sunlight filtering through the advertisement covered windows of the shop. I hate how little I'd inherited from her. Her bright hair and blue eyes somehow got lost in translation and I got stuck with my father's dark hair and black eyes; I hate it.

Our waitress comes by to take our order and I get a black coffee and a soda. I'm that the caffeine will ease my nerves about the Reaping. The girls all get tea containing various calming herbs. My mom offers me a sip of her drink and though I'm weary to its effectiveness I take a drink. Not bad.

I get another coffee to go and our group heads out from the café and walks to the Square were the mayor has already begun the speech about the rebellion and all the other stupid shit that no one ever listens to anyway. The Peacekeepers manning the sign-in booth charge my mom for my tardiness and send me and Claire to the 16 year-old section where the keep us herded like cows; who do they think we are? District 5?

We reach our places as the Capitol escort and mayor trades places on stage and the young Capitol woman grabs the microphone. Her urgency and intensity cause the sound system to let out a loud screech as everyone in the district clenches their teeth and slaps their hands over their ears.

"Um, sorry" the girl says apologetically, "Hi, I'm Emilina" Her confidence has been cut in half after her faux paw. "Let's get started shall we," She gives the audience a half smile. The Capitol will most likely not hire her for a second appearance at next year's Reaping. The girl is young, maybe 20, 21? She wears a flowing blue gown and has her dark hair styled similarly to that of Claire's. For a Capitol citizen, she's surprisingly, Districtorial; I like it. She dips Her hand into the glass bowl filled to the brim with every male name between the ages of 12 and 18 in District 9. She pulls out a small slip and reads the name aloud to the audience.

"Hito Wardon!" she squeals, trying to regain her Capitol façade. My jaw drops and I almost drop my coffee. I plant my feet in place.

"No!" I shout back over the crowd, showing my defiance to the grotesque Games, "Pick someone else, I'm not going." The Peacekeepers were on me like white on rice. I peeled the lid from my coffee as the first one approached me and chucked the hot liquid at his face and judo kicked him in the genitals . I broke out in a sprint through the crowd. My peers helped me through and formed a barrier against the Peacekeepers as I ran through the square.

I hear Emilina call out the female tributes name as she tries to regain balance of the situation, "Meringue Alice!" The name means nothing to me and I keep running through town, Peacekeepers hot on my trail. I'd like to tell you that I got away; escaped to a better place, but running was never my strong suit.

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So, I started writing this and I thought I was gonna have to start over; the beginning felt slow and undescriptive, but I would never change the surprise ending, which came as a surprise even to me. I really hope you like this chapter. Please Review! I'm really excited for the next couple weeks. My birthdays on the 18th and headed out to the beach on the 20th. Don't give up on me or this fanfic, I'm doing my best, give me a chance.