Gemma Lazert. D10. 14
It was time to go shopping. We were running low on food, and what better day to go shopping than the day of the reaping. The shops were all closed, and their owners were all too worried for their children's safety to notice if a few items went missing. If you haven't noticed, I use the term shopping very loosely. When we shop, we really just sneak into the shop, take a few things, and then move on before anyone notices. Before you go judging us; you have to understand that we are all orphans. My parents dumped me at the orphanage when I was four. They said they didn't want me anymore. I was devastated at first, but then I met Malena and Ike. They were both orphans like me. As I got to know them, I found out that the Peacekeepers killed Malena's parents. Ike however, refuses to talk about what happened to his family. One day, we decided to run away from the orphanage. At night, Malena and I broke the window in our room, and ran for it. Ike did the same with his roommate Randall. The three of us made it, but Randall got shot in the back when we were running from the orphanage. Since then, we've made camp in an abandoned old building. We aren't quite sure what it was used for, but it smells terrible.
"Hey Gemma, are we leaving, or what?" I turn to see Malena and Ike both ready to head out for our shopping.
"Yeah let's go," I say. No point in prolonging it any further. We walk out of our home and start to walk around the top square. There's a small food shop run by a family with a twelve year old. We decide to start there since we figure the family will be too busy convincing their kid that she won't get drawn. After a moment or two of unsuccessful attempts of picking the back door's lock, Ike finally gets it. We sneak in, and start storing stuff in our duffle bags. After a few minutes of grabbing everything within our reach, I decide that we should get going. "C'mon guys, we should get going," I whisper. So we leave and head back home.
"We should go to the reaping," Says Malena.
"Are our names even in the bowl?" I ask.
"I bet the orphanage says they killed all four of us," Ike says. "So I doubt it, no."
"Well I'm not saying we should go because of our names. I say we go to pay respect to the poor two tributes going in the Arena," Said Malena.
"What do you think Gemma?" Asked Ike.
"I agree with Malena; we should go," I say. It really isn't fair to the two tributes to have to leave everything they know for a death match.
So we finish our mini-feast and head to the District Square. It's a short walk and when we arrive, a lady in the ugliest outfit I've ever seen walks on stage. I realize she's our escort when she goes to draw the name of the tributes. It is announced that our female tribute is a twelve year old girl. I realize that she is the daughter of the owner of the shop we stole from. The escort then goes to the other glass bowl on stage and draws a name. "Randall Benitt," our escort reads. I must have heard that wrong. Randall died years ago. I crane my neck and I see him. It really is Randall. He looks well fed, but worn. Like one of the slaughter house kids. I look at Malena and Ike and they share the same awe-struck look that I have; indicating that they have come to the same conclusion as I have. I can't let Randall die again. I've lost him once, I can't lose him again.
"I volunteer as tribute," I shout.
Randall Benitt. D10. 14.
I am Randall Benitt. I am fourteen years old. I was raised in an orphanage. When I was ten I tried to escape with my three friends Malena, Ike, and Gemma. The Capitol's Peacekeepers shot and killed the three of them and captured me. I was sent to the Capitol and served the President as an Avox. President Snow finally decided I had paid for my crime, and I since I am a minor I was sent back to my home District. I was sent back to the orphanage, but I was almost immediately adopted by the owner of a meat packing factory. That's where I am now; packing hunks of meat into plastic so that they can be transported to the Capitol. I look up only to be blinded by the glare of the white light. That light, it looks so similar to one I've seen before, but where? This is the first time I've been in the building. Then I think, the hospital. And that is when I black out.
"We need more morphling for the memory alterations to be successful," Someone next to me says. I try to sit up, to see who said that, and to find out where I am. I'm being restrained. This bed has cuffs holding my wrists, ankles, and waist down.
"The president says he wants this kid to forget what really happened that night. Here's the form explaining what he should remember instead," I hear a second voice say
"Got it, thanks," The first voice said. Now, let's see if this is enough morphling to knock him out." There was a sharp pain in my right arm, and then there was darkness.
"Randall are you OK?" I hear someone say. It was my adopted father. "I think you fainted. One second you were packing that meat into the bag, and the next thing I know you're on the ground. Why don't you go get ready for the reaping? I'll handle it from here." I nod, as my Avox treatment restricted me from making any actual noises. I head up to my room and try to process what just happened. What had I just seen? When did that ever happen to me? Why did those two voices want to change my memories, and why did everything in that memory have some odd glow to it? When did that happen to me? These are the questions that occupy my mind while I get on my nice clothes for the reaping.
When I arrive at the reaping our escort Vandrel was drawing the name of the female tribute. It was some market child girl; I'd never seen her before. Then Vandrel drew the name of our male tribute. She read his name, but it wasn't just any name, it was mine. I walk on stage, and think how my random flash-back seemed like nothing compared to this unfortunate turn of events. Just as this day couldn't get any weirder, Gemma volunteers as tribute. Gemma, one of my friends killed by Peacekeepers years ago. How was she still alive? And what was she doing volunteering for tribute? What does this even mean?