Diora Fairchild
I run to the fields, searching for Marko. He isn't home, so he's probably working. He needs to get off early! Today is the Reapings, and if he's late, he'll be whipped. I slip under the barbed wire fence that encircles the grain field.
I duck down into the grain, seeing the Peacekeepers watching from a distance over. Luckily, I'm not very tall, so no one sees me as I run through the fields. "Marko!" I shout. Other workers ignore me, not caring about the small girl looking for her brother. Either that, or they don't have the heart to turn me in.
Luckily, I know where Marko usually works. One part of the field touches the fence to the edge of the District. Marko always works there, staring out into the wild to distract himself from the reality of our work.
I get close to the gate and scan around. There he is! Marko is right by the gate, as far as he can go to the outside without leaving. Poor kid. No matter how much he dreams, we will never go outside. I walk out to him, setting my hand on his shoulder. "Marko," I say quietly.
"What?" He says, setting down his sickle.
"Reapings Marko. They're today!" I say.
"Today? But the Peacekeepers said I had to stay late."
"What did you do this time?"
"Stole the whip," he says. "And tangled it in the top of a tree."
"Marko!"
"They whipped Bear!" He protests, speaking the name of his best friend.
"What did Bear do?"
"Well, you know his Mom's been sick right?" I nod. "His mom died and he was late yesterday."
"Marko," I say, not knowing what to do. "You could get whipped!"
"They just said I had to stay late today."
"You'll be late to the Reapings! They'll get you whipped anyways."
Marko looks at his sickle, then at the grain. With the swing of his strong arms, he threw his sickle at the gate. It ripped through a patch of metal and Marko stared in awe. For a moment, he stepped closer to the gap between District Nine and the wild. Then alarms started to sound. Marko froze.
"Run!" I shout at him. He bolts, and I bolt. We run past other workers, who try to ignore us. Younger workers stop and watch us, not as much out of curiosity but out of the desperation of a work break. Soon we're at the field perimeter, Marko only barely behind me. Peacekeepers are scattering outward, looking for the source of the alarm. In a swift duck, I lean under the barbed wire. Marko follows, and we run through the dirt streets.
I'm dressed for the Reapings in a patterned gold and black sleeveless dress with semi-translucent shoulders and a flowing skirt. My mom once wore this dress, but she won't tell me what for. I'm quietly pulling my little sister Krysten's hair into a fish tail braid. Other twelve year olds might cry on their first Reapings, but not Krysten. She sits up straight, not saying a word. The only sign that she's nervous is her constant fiddling with the hem of her light purple dress. I don't need to wonder what she's thinking about. I know she's thinking of the Hunger Games, and the fact that this could be her last day in her home District.
"Dio!" I look down to see Daisy, my two year old sister. "Dio, braid my doll." She holds up a ratty cloth doll, expecting be to braid its thin strands of blonde hair. I used to hate the pipsqueak child, but she's grown on me. It's not that there's anything wrong with her, but she wasn't supposed to be here. Mom had an affair, something I'll never forgive her for.
"I'll braid Lottie's hair when I finish with Krysten," I say. The doll used to be mine, and its name has always been Lottie. Daisy throws Lottie in the air and tries to catch her, but fails to succeed. She quickly runs over to the spot where the doll fell.
It only takes me a minute to finish braiding Krysten's black hair, which is the same color as mine. She whispers a thank you and goes off to read her book. Krysten is quiet, but she loves to read more than anything else.
Daisy stumbles over to sit with me. I pick her up and set her in my lap. "Braid!" She says. I smile and take the doll, holding her delicately. Daisy looks to me expectantly. She has the same green eyes as my mother and Krysten and I, but nothing else. Everyone in my family has black hair, but Daisy is blonde.
My father died in a revolt three years ago. There was a march through the fields demanding better pay for the workers. Soon Peacekeepers had arrived with guns, and my father was one of the dozens shot dead.
Two years ago, Daisy came around. I'm next to positive the father is my best friend Lilli's dad, but I blame my mom for all of it. How could she betray Dad like that? I loved my father, but my mom now has as much worth to me as a dying rat.
Soon I'm done braiding Lottie's hair, and I hand the doll back to Lottie, only to see that Daisy is crying. "What's wrong?" I ask.
"Today's no good," she says. It surprises me how much she understands, being two.
"Today is a fine day," I lie. "Don't worry." Just as I finish my words, Mom's call echoes through our small house.
"Come on, Diora, get your siblings. It's Reaping time." I reluctantly get Krysten and Daisy and head to the dreaded Reapings.
Fitz Bradley
I shuffle slowly out of the fields, tired from the days work. Today couldn't be any worse. Today is Reaping day. The Reapings lead to the Hunger Games, which lead to death. And every year, I'm more likely to be Reaped. This year could be the year I die.
It would be likely. My father and I work in the fields, but I take tesserae. Ever since Mom left, we haven't had enough money. It was hard enough then. But now... Dad does nothing but worry.
Mom was a beautiful woman, and she left at the age of thirty four, when I was seven. She worked in the field, but she had Capitol relatives. One day they contacted her about modeling in their fashion magazine, and Mom left. She hasn't even sent money in financial support.
I'd love to say I inherited some of Mom's good looks, but that'd be a lie. I'm stocky and I have short brown hair. My jawline is square, and my skin is blemished. And now I'm starving.
I shuffle my feet as I head back to my home. It's hardly a house; just a shack that keeps me mostly dry when the rains come. My father is already home, setting his handful of coins down. I do the same, and head to my trunk with a discontented sigh. The trunk contains my clothes and few other possessions. It's been in my dad's family for generations.
I hear my dad moan as he massages his own shoulders, which are aching from hunching over to cut the grain at the stems. I'm scared for Reapings, but my dad is too stressed to talk to. I just let him be.
Soon I'm dressed in my best clothes, which aren't as stained as my others, but still in an unrepairable condition. I sit silently, staring at the weak wooden walls if our home. Reapings will be soon, but I'm choosing to ignore it. Instead I absorb the details; things to keep my mind occupied. The wooden planks are a dark brown, the same color as my eyes. Although the panels once offered shelter, they now are filled with holes. I try to take in the patterns instead of the weaknesses, looking at the swirls and rings in the wood. The rings are like words. They tell a story that I can't read, but hold many wonders. Now they hold me.
"Hold out your hand," a Capitol worker says as she prepares to stab my finger. I hate this part. I hate all of this! I hold out my shaking hand and she draws my blood, causing me to shout in agony. The woman gives me an odd stare and continues on her work. I rush away.
I arrive in the thirteen year old section, surrounded by other terrified kids. They whimper quietly while I whimper loudly. I'm going to die! I just know it.
Krysten Fairchild
I've been quiet all day, but I'm truly terrified. I try to keep my fears silent, so I don't worry anyone else. Sometimes wish I could just cry like the other twelve year olds, but I don't want to worry Marko as he waits in the fourteens or Diora as she waits in the seventeens. So I keep it in.
"Welcome," our escort Cassidy Thornton glides onto the stage, "to the District Nine Reapings." Cassidy gives us a chilling smile as she goes into her Hunger Games speech. Cassidy has been our escort for nine years now, since she was nineteen. Everyone agrees that she reminds them of ice.
She has pale skin and only dresses in white and blue. Her hair is blue, her eyes are white, and she has permanent snowflake sparkles on her face. Even her personality matches ice; chilling and harsh.
"Let's start with the girls, shall we?" She smirks and the girls, who are shaking and terrified. "Where is... Camila Fairchild?" She grins. My mother screams from the back of the crowd. Peacekeepers march back and grab her, shoving her towards the stage. Panic begins to set in on me. I've been Reaped.
I crumple to the floor and make no attempt to get back up. Soon Cassidy must have asked for the daughters, because Peacekeepers are marching over to me. I scream. They grab for me, and I begin to thrash around, kicking my feet and flailing my arms. The Peacekeepers grab me and carry me to the stage, where I see Diora waiting. She has one tear on her cheek as she watches me and I know she's not worried for her own life, but mine.
Fitz Bradley
I watch as a twelve year old is carried from her section, and I feel myself worrying. I could be Reaped, like her! We could both die!
"Now for the boys!" Cassidy shouts over the girl's screaming. "Where are the sons of... Klaus Bradley?"
That's me! I'm dead already! I sob as I shuffle up to the stage, and my Dad does the same. I wish he could be stronger, for me! But that doesn't happen and Cassidy is smiling skeptically as she announces, "Give it up for the tributes of District Nine!"
AN
I'm really sorry about the late update. I've been insanely busy. I hope you all enjoy my chapter! Thanks angelofmusic4ever for Fitz and HungerG94 for the Fairchild family. Thank you for all the reviews! We've officially reached fifty!
This is just a reminder to vote for how I do the Goodbyes. Right now, the poll says that I should not do all the goodbyes. What do you think? Your vote matters.
Also, there are only three Reaping chapters left! Yes! Then we are on to the action. I can hardly wait.
On a different note, I was sad that no one guessed my quote from the last update! It's one of my favorite quotes, and it's from one of my favorite characters. So, I'm offering a second chance. If you can say who said it in this review, I'll still give the sponsor points.
Lastly, please favorite, follow, and review! Thanks!
"I'm very hard to catch, and if they can't catch me, they can't kill me. So don't count me out."
~Oceane