Chapter Ten: A Busy Mind

Cheyenne McKeel, 18

District Ten Female

I wake up, knowing I need to get ready quickly.

It's the morning of the Reaping, and that means that McKeel's Meats will have tons of customers. My parents and I own a little butcher shop across the street from our house, and although it isn't a big Capitol business, people love to buy meat from us. We're extra popular nowadays, considering not many people in Ten want the Capitol to gain money. They'd rather see money go to a local family, and in my opinion, our meet is just as good, if not even better than the Capitol's. That's all thanks to my parents. I don't often deal with the meet itself besides giving it to the customers.

I quickly change out of my pajamas, and brush my brown hair. I just got it cut a few weeks ago, and it's about shoulder length. I much prefer it this way, it's far more manageable. I look at my blue eyes in the mirror for a quick moment and then I am out the door. It's a beautiful day today, but not a happy one. Someone from Ten is being sent off to their death today, maybe even two people. I just hope I'm not that person. I cross the street and make my way into the Butcher Shop. I wave to a few of the daily customers in line that I see at least once a week. I always enjoy meeting new people that order food from the shop.

I think I woke up late this morning, because the line for meats is out the door. I quickly work to make sure each customer gets exactly what they need, while trying to be as friendly as possible. My train of thought has always been that it's not what work you do, but it's how you do it. If you're a rude cashier, people may not want to come back, which makes the business lose money. If you're nice to them, customers will almost always return. I've been in charge of working the cash register at McKeel's Meats since the day I could count, which was fairly early for my age. My parents homeschooled me so that I could help with business more often.

Soon enough the line dies down, as I pride myself on being a fast cashier. My mother walks out of the room where she and my father prepare the meats, her blonde hair is messy from her hard work.

"Sweetie, we have some deliveries we need you to make. The first one is at the Elmerick's house, and I have a list of the rest. There's four or five others," The Clay and Evie Elmerick have been two of my closest friends since I was a little girl.

"I'm on it Mom," I respond, taking the packages into my hands and heading on my way. I am at the Elmerick's home very quickly. They live fairly close to our butcher shop.

I knock on the door and it is opened by Clay, who greets me with a smile.

"Special delivery!" I say, giving him the package of meat that his family ordered.

"Thanks," He responds, taking the package and beckoning for me to come in.

"Sorry but I can't stay today. I've got to drop these off," I say, looking down at the other packages of meat.

"Why don't I come with you? Many hands make light work," Clay often comes with me to make deliveries, and it does make it much easier to carry things.

"I'll come too," Evie says, brushing her blonde hair behind her ears.

"Okay, thanks for the help guys," I say.

"Anytime. It's actually kind of fun!" Clay says, being the positive person that he is.

Clay, Evie and I get through the first few houses on the list rather quickly, but none of us know where the Baines' house is. I spot a redheaded woman walking down the street, and decide to ask her if she knows where to go.

"Hello Ma'am, by any chance would you know where the Baines' house is? I have some meat to deliver to them, but I can't find it," I often ask kind looking people nearby if I can't find a house, they usually help me out.

"Sure! I'm a friend of their family. It's a few houses down, the cream colored one," I look down the street and think I know where to go.

"Thank you Ma'am!" I respond cheerfully. Evie knocks on the door of the house and we drop off the meats.

I walk to the Reaping with my friends, and Clay is his usual talkative self, joking the entire way. Evie is usually the quiet one, but today she is dead silent.

"You okay?" I ask my friend.

"I'm just nervous, that's all," Evie replys. I'll admit I'm a bit nervous too, but my chances of getting picked are so small. I'll only have to go through this today and then I'm done. She has three more years after today.

"You'll be fine, there are so many girls in Ten. I doubt you'll get chosen," I say, trying to convince myself of the same thing.

"Me too, but there's just this small feeling inside of me that it could still be me, you know?" Evie says.

"You won't have to worry about it much longer, we're already here," Clay says with a laugh.

My friends and I walk to one of the check-in lines and soon reach the front. We reach the front and find a man with brown hair sitting at the table with a needle in his hand. Clay goes first and flinches a bit when he is pricked by the needle.

"Name?" He asks me, his blue eyes staring into my soul.

"Cheyenne McKeel," I respond sweetly, but he rolls his eyes.

"Dominant Hand?" He asks me, weary from having to do this all morning.

"Right," I respond, as he flips from the E surnames to the M ones. I am directed to the eighteen-year-old female section, and I hug Clay and Evie goodbye and wish them luck.

What if one of us gets picked and has to kill someone?

Colt Falcon, 13

District Ten Male

"Wake up sweetheart, it's time for the Reaping!" I hear my mother say.

I really don't want to go to the Reaping today, this Hunger Games thing seems really scary. I don't want to have to fight for my life, I don't think any kid would.

"Hi Mommy," I respond to her, she smiles at me.

"Hey sweetie, how did you sleep?" Her blue eyes look shiny and happy to see me. I'm not too well liked in school, so my mother is one of my best friends. Kids at school think I'm weird although I really don't know why.

"Good," I say. I'm glad I didn't have any nightmares about the Reaping. Two nights ago I had a nightmare that I was Reaped and it was very scary.

"Time to get dressed," My mom says, leaving the room. For today's Reaping, I pick out a white shirt and some grey pants. It takes me a while to button it up, but I'm proud of myself for being able to do it all by myself. I look in my mirror and adjust my blonde curls, my pale blue eyes looking right back at me. I slip on some shoes and I head into the kitchen to eat breakfast with my parents and my sister Marybeth.

Everyone else is already there. My mother is cooking breakfast, which smells like eggs and bacon, and my father is reading the newspaper. A photo of President Regis is on the cover, she seems intimidating and scary. Marybeth is studying for something, but I don't know what.

My mother gets breakfast ready and puts mine on a blue plate. I make sure to thank her before digging in. The scrambled eggs taste so good and the bacon is well done which is just how I like it. We all make small talk, but nobody is saying much. Everyone is really nervous for the Reaping. Marybeth and I could potentially both get picked, even though the odds are very small. My father has told me that it's basically not possible that we would both get Reaped. However, I'm still worried for both my sake and hers. She's always been such a kind sister because she makes time for me even with her busy schedule.

"Do you want to do some flashcards Colt?" My mother asks me. We usually do them every day and today is no different.

"Okay," I respond, she is already getting them out.

The first one I receive says seven multiplied by five. After a few seconds, the answer comes to me.

"Thirty-five?" I say, not totally sure. My mother's grin indicates to me that I got it right.

The next card reads eight times three. This one I know almost right away.

"Twenty-four," I respond confidently. My mother nods, telling me I'm on a streak. My mom shows me two more card, both of which I complete rather quickly. It makes me happy when I get the answers right.

My mother holds up one that I always struggle with. For some reason, I just have a mental block on what seven times nine is.

"Sixty-Four?" I say, but my mom shakes her head telling me I'm wrong.

"No Sweetie, it's sixty-three. On the bright side, you were pretty close," my mom says cheerfully. I know she's only trying to make me feel better, but I feel like an idiot. All the other thirteen-year-old boys in Ten can multiply simple numbers.

"Why can't I do anything right?" I say, putting my head in my hands.

"That's not true. You can do so many amazing things Colt. More than you know. Doing multiplication right doesn't show who you are," My mother has always supported me throughout my life no matter what.

I got kicked in the head by a horse when I was six years old. I remember the fiery look in the horse's amber eyes as it went to kick me. All I wanted to do was pet it, I didn't want any trouble. We're taught in Ten that animals are caring creatures that provide for us, but that horse didn't seem very nice. It left my train of thought to be somewhat slow, and my brain development is behind most other children my age. Marybeth and my parents support and love me just the same as any other child. Sometimes I wish I was a little smarter, but my parents say that being myself is the best person I can be.

"Thanks Mommy. Are we going to go to the Reaping yet or is it not until later?" I ask, hoping it's later in the day.

"It's actually starting soon, we should get going," My mother says. My family and I walk out the door, not wanting to face reality.

Our walk to the Reaping is fairly quiet, nobody is saying much. Even Marybeth who is usaually chatty is quiet, and that doesn't happen much. Our house isn't a far walk from the Town Square, as we are actually considered on the wealthier side of the district. We don't have much, but my parents have never struggled to keep my sister and I fed. We arrive at the Town Square, which is usually booming with excitement. Today it almost seems to look sad.

I step into one of the lines with my sister, and we reach the front very soon. A not-so-nice looking man in a white collared shirt sits with a big book in front of him. Marybeth gets her finger pricked before me, and then it is my turn.

"Name?" The man asks me, looking bored of his job.

"Colt Falcon," I respond, my name is right above Marybeth's in this man's big book.

"Dominant Hand?" He asks, but what does dominant mean? I panic, looking to my sister for advice. She points to her right hand, so that's what I say.

"Right," I try to sound confident, but I doubt I do. I hug my sister goodbye as she heads to the seventeen-year-old section and I head to the thirteen-year-old section.

Why does the President want kids to die?

Nagan Troublefield, 28

District Ten Escort

I don't think the battlescars will ever fade.

At this point, it's all I can think about. I never realized that choosing to do one thing would take away everything that ever made me happy. It's like a dark stormcloud has come into my mind and no sunlight is able to come through. No matter how many different therapists I've tried visiting, nothing seems to help the sun come out. Even going to support groups with others who have had the same problems as me doesn't work. I'm traumatized by the things I have seen, and there's no escape. For the past four years I've done nothing but search for a way out of this, but nothing seems to help.

I fought for the Capitol in the Rebellion, not knowing how much I would be scarred by it. I just wanted to make some money and be loyal to my country, I didn't want kill people and watch them die. I was an artist before the Rebellion, but once it came into full swing not many people had enough spare money to buy my works, even in the Capitol. I was making next to nothing and could barely survive. I didn't really have a choice but to fight, and I wasn't dumb enough to rebel. I just wish the whole Rebellion never happened, it has taken away every ounce of the life I once had, leaving me with a new one that I don't want. If people would've had the money to buy my paintings, then I wouldn't be so traumatized.

I can't get the images of the men and women that I killed out of my head, and I'm worried that I won't ever be able to. I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder a few months ago. The Capitol makes medicine for so many different diseases, but I wish they could make some sort of pill that would make me forget everything I've done since I was enlisted. I can't handle the pain of knowing how many innocent people's lives I took away. I can't live my own life while realizing that those people's friends and families have holes in their hearts because of me. Most of the time I simply sit alone, wallowing in the sorrows of my past. I don't deserve to live because the people I killed don't get to.

I wanted to be an escort to try to save lives of other innocent people who did nothing wrong in the hopes that they will be able to live the lives they deserved. Since I fought throughout the northern boarders of Panem, I didn't want to be anywhere near there, so I requested not to be the escort for Districts Seven, Six, or Eight. I couldn't have gotten luckier, since I ended up with the sourthernmost district of all - District Ten. I figured that if I had something else to focus on besides my PTSD, that maybe it would start to go away. If I could bring someone home and save someone's life, maybe this could be the cure. If it isn't, I don't know what is. At this point, it's my last resort.

I look down at the outfit I am wearing, I've been saving up for weeks for an outfit that will help me to make the best first impression on Panem possible. My button down shirt is very colorful, with shades of green, yellow, orange, and pink. It reminds me of a beautiful hibiscus I once painted. It was one of the most expensive pieces I've ever sold. My tan pants and forest green blazer make the outfit a complete look. I think that it compliments my dark skin nicely. I'm glad I was able to find nice clothes, it's usually somewhat of a challenge for me since I am so tall. I'm nearly a foot above average height, and with my lanky build, finding clothing is never easy.

I walk onto the stage to begin the Reaping.

"Welcome to District Ten's Reaping of the First Annual Hunger Games!" You could nearly hear a pin drop in the audience.

"President Regis wanted me to thank all of you for the livestock you provide to our nation. We are stronger than ever now that we are reunited as one," I wouldn't personally say that we're completely reunited yet, but I have to follow the script I was given.

"I will now select a name from the bowl to my left to see who our female tribute will be. If your name is called, please come to the stage," Many of the girls in the audience look tense and afraid.

"Cheyenne Mckeel!" A tall girl in the eighteen-year-old section's jaw drops, and she looks to be in utter disbelief. She walks onto the stage, glaring at me. Technically, it is my fault that she's here because I'm the one who chose her name.

"Is there anyone who would like to volunteer in place of Cheyenne?" The crowd is silent, and I notice Cheyenne clench her fists in anger.

"Alright, now I'll select a name from the bowl to my right to see who our male tribute will be. If your name is called, please come to the stage, just as Cheyenne did," The suspense seems to be killing these teens as I choose a name from the top of the bowl.

"Colt Falcon!" At first, I am unable to identify which boy is going into the games. After a couple of seconds, all eyes are on a chubby thirteen-year-old who doesn't look like he understands what's going on. As he is walking up to the stage, he breaks down in tears, unable to stop his crying.

"Is there anyone who would like to volunteer in place of Colt?" There is once again no reaction from the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you District Ten's tributes in the First Annual Hunger Games! Please shake hands," Colt still continues to cry, and Cheyenne looks like she doesn't know how to handle it. She shakes his hand regardless.

"Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

Can I save one of them?

Hi everyone! I'm officially on summer break, and I hope to start producing chapters a bit faster. Only a couple Reapings left to go!

Yours Truly,

CuriousClove :)