Chapter 9: District 7 Reaping: A Red Sunrise

District 7

Rhia Davis sat curled on her bed, pressing her back into the corner created by the two walls of her large bedroom. It was the earliest part of the morning of the reaping, but she knew her mother wouldn't be sleeping. She would be roaming the halls of the house, reliving the night before her own reaping.

Maple Davis was the victor of the thirty-first Hunger Games. At eighteen she had joined the Career pack, which gave her access to the weapons and food that sustained her throughout the two-week period. Largely regarded as one of the largest, most destructive career packs in the history of the Games, the group killed eleven of the other tributes during the bloodbath, quickly and methodically hunting down the surviving tributes after that. On the eve of their last hunt, the victim of which would be Maple's district partner, Maple slaughtered the entire pack as they slept. They never saw it coming. Still soaked in the blood of her victims, the sun rose on the sight of Maple cornering her partner, his feet inches away from the edge of a deep ravine. She took one step forward, that's all it took, and he jumped. The memories haunted Maple, and the slightest noise, the smallest sight, sent her into fits of rage, depression, and terror.

After the first couple years her name had been in the reaping, Rhia had learned what to expect on the night before the names were called, so she wasn't in the least bit surprised when her mother threw the door of her room open, rushing through the doorway. "I saw you training yesterday," she said, her hands curling into the same tight fists that had strangled the girl from district one. "You were pathetic." Bringing her fist back, she thrust it forward, catching Rhia in the nose and causing her head to snap back, hitting the wall. "I didn't even train. Not for a day!" Her hands came down again, skirting the arms Rhia had brought up to cover her face, and connecting with her abdomen. "And I was far more impressive than you!"

"Mom, stop," Rhia gasped. "Please."

"No, you stop!" The woman screamed, pulling her daughter off of the bed and sending her crashing to the floor. "They won't let you get away without being reaped. They won't!"

"Stop!" Rhia yelled a little louder, trying to stand up. She'd tried to retaliate two years ago, but she had learned her lesson. It only made it worse.

"You can't be weak," Maple said, trembling with rage. "You can't run like your Father did!" Rhia's father had left eight years ago when Maple's behavior had become increasingly erratic. Rhia had been so sweet, so innocent, that she had believed he would come back. That he would help her. But he never did.

As her mother's abuse began to lessen for a moment, Rhia climbed back onto her bed, inching along the wall until she felt her back brush the rough, thick blackout curtains that were drawn across the window.

"Mom," she said bitterly, her hands reaching behind her. "You're not yourself. Just go to bed." Maple screamed, and lunged forward, her hands searching for her daughter's throat. Turning quickly, Rhia ripped the curtains apart, bathing herself, her mother, and the entire room in the light of the sunrise. The anger in Maple's eyes dissolved rapidly, leaving her staring at the rising sun with a horrified look on her face.

"Thomas," She whispered, the name of her old district partner slipping off of her lips as she fell to her knees. "What am I?"

Slipping past her mother, Rhia walked shakily into her bathroom, flipping on the lights and staring at her bruised reflection. That was it, she thought, she couldn't wait until she was eighteen. Rhia couldn't take another year of this torture; she was going into the Games today.

As the brilliant display graced the sky, Chase Rige held tightly onto the swaying branches of the Elder tree, the tallest recorded tree in all of district seven. Chase sat there every morning, clinging to the very highest of the branches to watch the sunrise.

Suddenly the branches started to sway, the motion growing wilder and wilder as time went on, forcing Chase to shimmy down toward the trunk as fast as he could. When he reached a fork in two strong branches, Chase quickly wedged himself into it and looked up, the hovercraft from the Capitol almost blocking out the sky. The behemoth of metal scratched the branches of the Elder where Chase had been moments ago, and landed behind the justice building. As soon as the propulsion systems had turned off, all the people working during the reaping poured out of the machine, busying themselves with a million different tasks in and around the building. This, of course, was going to make getting away from the crowd without being noticed infinitely harder for Chase. Technically, he wasn't supposed to be up here. No one was.

Sliding down the trunk, Chase slowed his decent with the many footholds he had grown familiar with until he finally dropped to the ground. Looking around, the small boy was relieved to see that no one had noticed. Nonchalantly walking around the tree, Chase started to quicken his pace, directing his bare feet toward his home. "You!" A voice shouted, causing Chase to speed up slightly, pretending not to hear. "Little blonde child, with no shoes!" Well, he thought, there was no getting away from that. Turning around slowly he searched for the source of the voice.

There he was, Supple Brittlebee, the district escort. Chase's eyes widened as the man stalked closer, why would anyone choose to look like this? The man appeared to be split down the middle, one half of his suit white, and the other half a dark, forest green. It wasn't just the clothes however; the man's hair was made up of short, light spikes on the white side, and long, dark dreadlocks on the other. The man's face was even different on each side, his lips, eyebrows, and even his nose surgically altered to the extent that his skin appeared to be a mask. Well, two masks. "Yes, sir?" Chase asked as the man approached, keeping his eyes down so he wouldn't stare.

"I saw what you did," Supple said, pointing a white, polished can at Chase. "I saw you climb down the Elder tree." Chase stayed silent, hoping he would let it go. "You know, that isn't strictly allowed," Supple said, his rich voice tapering off.

"Yes, I know," Chase said, shuffling his feet.

"Don't worry, child," the man said, lifting Chase's chin with the end of his cane. "I'm not a stickler for the rules." Half of the man's face contorted into a smile, the other side staying in its bitter frown. "Now, how far up did you go?" Chase started to back away.

"Well, I had to get out of the way, or your ship would've hit me." Turning around, Chase ran down the road, ignoring the never-ending questions posed by the scary man.

"Rhia, you have to get away from her. I know it will be a shock having to work, but if anyone can do it, it would be you." Rhia's best friend Taffeta wouldn't stop talking. Ever since Rhia had shown up in front of the justice building, the bruises on her face showing for all to see, Taffeta had been endlessly generating escape plans.

"Taffeta, don't worry," Rhia said, putting her hands on her friend's shoulders. "I'm leaving her. Today. I'm never going back."

"Great! You can come stay with-" the girl's voice faded as she realized what Rhia was talking about. "Oh, Rhia, you were going to wait for next year."

"I can't wait anymore," Rhia said, turning to face the mayor as she gave her speech from the fancy porch built into the face of the house. "It has to happen now. I'm as ready as I'll ever be." Taffeta turned away as well, tears welling up in her eyes.

"I suppose," she said simply.

"Hello district seven!" Supple announced, taking the mayor's place. "Here I am again, and you know what that means!" The crowd gave a small applause. "I will now pull the names of the tributes that will be sent to the Capitol, no doubt to win us some honor and glory, eh?" he said, stepping up to the two hollow logs that were used to house the names of the district's children. "For the girls we have," Supple paused, glancing at the name he had pulled from the log. "Lillian Meadows!" A choking sound came from the section of fourteen year olds, a plump girl with two large braids stumbling forward and making her way to the porch. When she finally arrived Supple put his arm around her, patting her arm before turning toward the microphone. "Cheer up now, it's not all that bad is it?" Realizing that the girl wasn't capable of answering at the moment, Supple continued. "I suppose I have to ask, do we have any volunteers?" A collective sigh went through the crowd. There were never volunteers.

"I volunteer as tribute!" Rhia yelled, startling the girls that were standing around her. Pushing aside everyone that got in her way, Rhia walked up to the porch, feeling the eyes of the entire district burning into her.

"Well, well!" Supple said, leaning in and whispering to the sniffling girl so that only those on the stage could hear. "This is your lucky day." The girl ran away from the man, past all the other children, and into the crowd of parents, quickly finding her own.

"My name is Rhiannon Davis," Rhia said before Supple could ask.

"Well, Ms. Davis," Supple said, his eyes raking over the bruises on Rhia's arms and face. "I'm sure you will do splendidly in the Capitol." Rhia stared him down defiantly, waiting until he looked away to direct her own gaze over to her mother. Maple was sitting on the edge of her seat. Her arm held down by the only other living district seven victor; an aging man named Soren Grounds.

"Let's move on!" Supple said. "And your male tribute will be, Chase Rige!"

"What?" Chase asked the boy next to him. "What did he say?" All the people standing around Chase stepped back, leaving him alone when the words sounded again.

"Chase Rige?"

Chase's eyes widened, and he could feel the tears start to collect in them. No! That was impossible! Dad said it was impossible! This was his first year, and he didn't take out any tesserae, so why would it be him? What were the odds? He didn't even notice that his feet had started moving, that he was surrounded by peacekeepers, and that he was almost face to face with that horrifying man again.

"How… interesting." Supple said, grabbing Chase by the shoulder, a spark of recognition in his eye. "Do we have any volunteers?" he asked, his hand still on the boy's shoulder. "No? Well, ladies and gentleman, I present your tributes for the forty-ninth annual Hunger Games!"

Turning around, the man followed both tributes into the house, his long dreadlocks hanging next the tall, deadly silent volunteer, and his white cane tapping next to the shaking, defeated form of the tiny boy.

Chase's parents rushed into the room, followed by his younger sister Macey. Her fair hair, pale complexion, and even her green eyes streaming with tears matched her brother's exactly, traits they had acquired from their father. The two had spent almost every waking moment together, and the sight of her sent Chase into an even deeper depression. The loneliness, the crushing loneliness he felt in his predicament was creating a tightness in his chest, a lightness in his head, a feeling he had never felt before, not even at the very top of the Elder tree. "My beautiful boy," Chase's mom choked out, her hands trembling as she fumbled with something around her neck. "Take this," she said, pressing her mother's old locket into his small hand. "Don't forget us," she cried. "We won't forget you."

The peacekeepers came, too soon it seemed, and took them away, Chase's fist still clutching the metal necklace that still held his mother's warmth.

"Get out," Rhia said as soon as her mother appeared in the doorway.

"But Rhiannon, you have to know," Maple pleaded, reaching out for her daughter.

"Get. Out." Rhia repeated, not even looking her mother in the eye. She turned her back on the woman and waited until the peacekeepers came to take her, neither of them saying another word. The door opened again and Rhia turned, "Taffeta, I— the girl stopped, greeted not by her friend, but by her father.

"Rhia," the man said quickly. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry!?" she yelled. "You left me alone with her for eight years and you say sorry!?"

"I wanted to take you with me," he said, tears falling freely down his face. "But your mother wields a lot of power as a victor, and she didn't even let me see you, please believe me!"

"You should have tried harder!" Rhia yelled, her resolve crumbling.

"Honey, I'm sorry, I know I should have fought harder, but what else can I say? What else can I do?" Rhia's father dug into his pocket, pulling out a chain adorned with a beautifully set diamond. "She gave me this. Before the Games," he said, holding it out to his daughter. "I kept it to remember what she was like, but I want you to have it. I want you to remember what you were like. Don't lose yourself like she did." Rhia turned around and faced the window. She heard him set the necklace on the table, and that was only sound for a long while. How could she accept it? After what she'd been through, the cold touch of the necklace would only serve to remind her of her mother's own cold hands around her throat. He couldn't possibly expect her to just forgive him, to just let him off the hook for the torture he'd left her to. Could he? Spinning around, Rhia went to speak, but the room was empty. He'd already gone.

A/N

Helloo Readers! Let me know what you think of district 7 when you send me your bets, okay? And if it's too much trouble to PM me your bets, you can always leave them in the reviews too.

As of now CABLE KELVIN from DISTRICT THREE has the highest Capitol Betting Average.

Also, I just started drawing/sketching all the tributes. Expressing myself through my art helps me to think better, which helps my thought processes when writing about the characters. You probably don't care to know such things, but Ha, as the writer, I control what you do or do not hear about, regardless of your preferences! ... Okay I'll stop.