Youngly Cart studied her shoes during the reaping, as she rocked absent-mindedly back and forth on the balls of her feet. They were her only pair that wasn't scuffed up. She only used them for the reapings. Youngly had always found the Hunger Games interesting, though she'd like to see it up close. Ever since her parents died, Youngly had become fascinated with death. Some call it morbid. Most call it unnatural. Youngly calls it - well, she calls it normal.
There were worse ways to grieve. And hell, why shouldn't it be normal? Doesn't the entire nation cheer on a fight for the death every year? What did they expect to happen?
It was her last reaping. Youngly was a little bit bummed about it, too. She was so curious about what it would be like. Watching it wasn't enough, but it had never crossed her mind to volunteer. Young's motto was to let whatever happened to her happen. If she died, she died. If she lived, she lived. No one had control over anything anyway. Life was more interesting if you watched.
And yet, there were still things she wanted. So when her name was called, Youngly was pleased. She even smiled a little bit. But, though Youngly wasn't good at reading what was normal and what wasn't, she knew that you weren't supposed to be happy to be in the Hunger Games.
So, she tried to slap a solemn expression on her face, but she couldn't help it. For the first time in ages, Young felt alive.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
As soon as Warden Sandler's name was called, his first gut expression was one of shock and disbelief. But within a moment, his well-practiced death glare was pasted on, and he stared down the audience on his way up to the stage. He went over his odds in his head. He worked for a butcher shop, so we was good with knives. Cutting up people couldn't be too different from cutting up meat, right? Please, let him be right.
He started to think of his little sister, Kari, but stopped himself. Tears and intimidation didn't mix, and Warden had already picked the route he was going with.
He was really large for his age, and of course, he'd had his death glare down for ages. Always smelling like dead meat never helped, either, so Warden didn't really have a lot of friends. That was alright. He wouldn't need friends in the arena. No allies, no consequences. When the escort asked his age, he muttered "seventeen," without thinking about it too deeply. He was too far gone. There were so many ways to play this, so many rules he'd have to follow, and he had to make sure he knew all of them. The wheels in his head were turning, turning, turning, and they wouldn't stop.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
Youngly skipped the Justice Building. It wasn't like she had any family to say goodbye to. No, Youngly just wanted to get to the excitement, skip ahead to the Capitol, the parade, the training. The bloodbath, specifically. There was nothing left for her in District Ten.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
When Kari came into the room, Warden felt himself start to break down. She ran over to him and started punching his chest, over and over, with her tiny little fists, and Warden grabbed them and held them together so she couldn't move until eventually she dissolved into tears.
"Please don't go. Please don't go," she cried. Warden could feel his a throbbing pain in his chest, as if his body was trying to tell him how wrong everything was, like he didn't already know. She was eight years old, that was all, and she was losing her big brother before she even really knew what that meant. "Promise you're gonna come back, promise?" Warden bit back a sob as he nodded.
"No matter what. You'll see me soon." He ruffled her hair for what he realized was probably the last time. "I'm gonna come back, Kari." And then, after only a moment more the peacekeepers dragged her out while her hands were outstretched, calling for her big brother. The knife in his heart twisted.
He couldn't think of anything more unfair than the Games. He hadn't even realized how terrible they were. He'd known, but hadn't realized, hadn't truly felt it, but now that they were happening to him - he couldn't think about that. If he didn't focus, he didn't have a chance at all.
When he left the building, he saw Young waving out the train window and beaming at the cameras. Well, no matter what happened, it was going to be interesting.