District Eight Reaping: How Was I To Know?

Kiara 'Kiri' Ivan, 14, District Eight - The Logician

'And of course she has to go ahead and do this! Of course she does!'

I was in a bad mood, as one might be able to guess. I was sulking and pacing around my room. I hated pacing. I hated sulking.

'Kiri,' my sister tried. 'Calm down. Put on a dress or something for the Reaping, okay?'

I spun on her. 'The Reaping is at noon! I'll just fuss it up!' I shook my head. 'I'll get to my studies.'

Lyla lifted a shoulder. 'Kiri, we don't own anything that's not fussed up. And how can you study when you might die, you might be picked and die?'

I shook my head and pressed a kiss against Lyla's temple. 'Shh. I won't be picked, Lyla. Come on, there's some water to be fetched.'

During the Dark Days, most of the Districts regressed in some ways into a sort of...ancient time period. Well, not ancient, but about a hundred and fifty years. The year now was 2057. I mean, we still had TV and stuff, but...well...we had to do things like get water from wells. Only the merchants had running water now a days.

There weren't vacuum cleaners now, either, but even the merchants and people in District Two didn't have those. Vacuum cleaners existed solely in One and the Capitol.

As a result, it was now a rare thing to see a girl going about in trousers; all girls wore dresses now, really. I forced Lyla to put on her bonnet - that was just the sad way of things now - and we were on our way, grabbing a bucket as we went out the door.

The well was a ways into the small stretch of woods; though our District was in textiles, we bordered with Seven and shared a small bit of wood.

'Kiri,' said Lyla, 'do you really think you'll be okay?'

I shook my head. 'Of course I will be! Relax, Lyla. I am gonna be totally fine. You'll see. I'm only fourteen, mind you. My name's only in there three times.'

Lyla sighed. 'Well, least you didn't take tesserae,'

'Right,' I said. 'Least I didn't.'

We took the water and shared the wight of the bucket, dumped it into the basin in the kitchen.

'My girls! Ah, there you are!' Grandmother came in, wearing her factory worker's uniform. 'Oh, good, you got some water. Thank you!'

'Grandmother.' I said, hurrying over to give her a peck on the cheek. 'I hope you didn't overwork yourself or anything.'

' 'Course not!' she scoffed. 'Well, would you look at the time - it's eleven thirty! It's time for you to put on your dresses.' She beamed at us, and I wondered what in God's name was so bloody exciting.

And then she whipped it out: the most beautiful dress I'd laid eyes on. It was a pale pink evening gown, down to my knees, I'd say. It came with a blue sash, blue as midnight.

'For me?' I breathed.

'Yes, yes, Kiri, for Reaping Day. I'm hoping it'll get your mind offa what there is to come.'

I swallowed. 'It's perfect.'

Stitch 'Wev' Wevner, 18, District Eight - The Patient

'I'll wear this if I want to!'

As per usual, my fifteen year old brother, Zag, was arguing with my mother.

'That's too expensive, Zag! We're going to have to sell it if we're going to make a living!' my mother insisted.

I shook my head and sighed. Would it never end?

'He wants to wear a suit Mother made,' a whisper came from a corner.

I turned to see Spinner, my quieter and humbler little brother. At thirteen, he already proudly worked the machines in the main factory, and even though we worked different shifts, one of us would normally work a bit more, and run into each other.

'A suit? A real suit?' I whispered back with wide eyes. We only had one suit in the house - my father's old suit, when he was alive.

'A real suit,' Spinner confirmed.

I shook my head in disbelief. 'We could get enough bread to last us a month with a suit of Mother's quality!'

Spinner sighed, combing his ash blond hair. 'Well, that's Zag for you.'

And it really was Zag. He and Mother argued and argued until Zag gave up and settled for some of the boring old wear, overalls that were once mine.

I'd managed to buy myself something a bit more luxurious: a white button up, slacks, and even new shoes.

Question was, would I be broadcasted over Panem as tribute in those nice clothes?

No. No, of course not.

I would be fine. Fine.

Kiara 'Kiri' Ivan, 14, District Eight - The Logician

All the Reaping brought was my irritation - I couldn't stand our fussy little blonde escort, Tulip. Tulip! What a ridiculous name! She was all dainty high heels and flowing white gowns. A pair of spectacles, the frames made of real gold, were perched on her pointy nose.

'This is not a joke, District Eight,' she chided us as way of introduction. 'My name is Tulip. We'll get this done quickly. Don't dawdle if your name is called! We want to get you to the Capitol as quickly as possible. No doubt in other Districts, the tributes will burst into tears when THEIR name is called. Well, not here! Here, you'll walk on stage quickly. You'll have an hour to say goodbye to your families - the Capitol's idea, not mine, mind - and that will be all.

Now, ladies first. It is proper manners, after all!'

And with a sniff, she took the female slip as if she weren't sentencing some girl to her death.

A girl who wouldn't be me. Some poor girl who would absolutely, positively, without a doubt -

'Kiara Ivan!'

- not be me. Right.

Stitch 'Wev' Wevner, 18, District Eight - The Patient

The girl, Kiara, came forwards from the 14 year old sector. She struck me as tall for her age. Her skin was ghostly pale, and her night black hair was tied in two tight braids. Kiara wore a pink evening gown with a blue sash tied tightly around her waist. I'd think she was rich, what with the luxury of her dress, if it wasn't for her ratty old shoes.

Chin held high, Kiara took her place on stage, but there was no mistaking the shaking of her knees.

'Very good,' snapped Tulip. 'Boys next, now! No dawdling, men!'

I closed my eyes. Just be patient. She'll pick it fast, and then I'll be okay. Totally, totally okay...

'Stitch Wevner! Take your place!' she tutted.

Something inside me froze, something...something...well, God knew what. My everything.

I would not show my emotions. I simply could not.

Must not.

I took my place on the gauntlet silently, which seemed to satisfy Tulip. A playing of the Panem anthem, and we were escorted into the Justice Building.

Kiara 'Kiri' Ivan, 14, District Eight - The Logician

'And of curse you'll do your very best, my love,' fussed Grandmother. She paced the room anxiously, casting me pitiful glances every now and then.

I'll never see my granddaughter again. I knew she was thinking this. It wouldn't take a genius to figure it out.

I tuned her out and took a look around the room.

I'd never been in one so grand and fine. Lush blue carpets, so thick and deep one could drown in them. Deep sofas and armchairs, pristine white, soft with velvet. A huge willow wardrobe sat at the edge of the room. I'd looked inside it; but it was empty. All too posh to be true.

Floor - to- ceiling windows, the frames ornated in intricate carvings. I could make out gargoyles and nymphs and sea maidens, just like in Mother's stories when I was very young.

Mother.

The thought of her made the entire world seem to disappear, and all I could think about was her, my beautiful young mother. She died when I was only three, birthing Lyla, my half - sister.

I couldn't remember her very well, but I did remember snuggling up with her in bed as she read to me from a huge book of fairy stories.

Sobbing from Grandmother brought me to my senses. She was sitting on one of those marvelous sofas, crying loudly.

'You know,' she sobbed, 'I remember the days before Panem! I remember...'

Peacekeepers burst into the room and yanked her out. She screamed and fought, and I yelled and cried, but to no avail. In the blink of an eye, she was gone.

But soon Lyla was in her place - sweet, sweet Lyla, who sat on the floor by my feet and cried too.

So many tears, so many shed tears but unspoken words.

'Kiri, you gotta try! You gotta try!' she wailed.

'Of COURSE I'll try,' I said with a shake of my head. I patted a spot on the sofa next to me, and she took it, weeping into my shoulder.

'Mother's,' she whispered. She pressed something into my hand. 'Don't look at it now, Kiri. I want to be able to see you for every second I can.'

'Yes,' I murmured. 'I want to see you, too. Don't take Tesserae, when your name is in the bowl next year Lyla Ivan. Don't you dare.'

'I promise I won't. But...'

'I'll be around to see to it you don't,' I promised. 'Because I'll win.'

In The Capitol...

Aura and Haven sat on the floor, sharing a bowl of freshly made biscuits.

'These Games,' Haven said meekly, 'these Games of Da's. I don't like them. I asked him to call his Games off. He said no.'

'Da won't,' Aura said icily. 'They'll go on forever.'

Haven turned to face her sister with wide eyes. 'Forever?'

Aura dipped her head.'Yep. Unless we do something.'

'We could,' Haven mused. 'But what?'

All of a sudden, an idea struck Aura. She stood. 'Wait here,' she ordered Haven.

Haven did, watching the end of the Reaping in District Eight.

Da can be mean sometimes, he really can...

Ten minutes later, as an advert for the Hunger Games played with bright, cheery music, and stick people as the tributes, Aura was back.

"Get up,' she said softly. 'Now.'

'Why?' Haven pouted, even though she did as she was told. 'Aura! Where are we going?'

Aura took Haven's hand tightly. It hurt, but Haven didn't dare object. 'We're going,' Aura whispered once they were outside.

'Going?' Haven echoed. 'Going where?'

Aura let go of Haven. 'Home.'