Chapter Eleven: District Ten Reapings

William Crowell and Nadia Dolan

A/N: This is longer than most of my chapters, but the next one is even longer. For reference, the industry of District Ten is livestock.

NADIA:

Where am I? I look around to find that I'm at the reaping. But wait! That's tomorrow! I'm not ready yet! When did I get here? And how? I look up and see that it's already time for the female tribute to be chosen. I close my eyes. I'm not ready yet! Though my eyes are closed I still hear my name called, a forced mispronunciation due to our escort's embellished Capitol Accent.

"Nadia Dolan!"

I feel like they're yelling in my ear. Maybe they are. And then I'm suddenly falling,and falling, and falling…I land in the bloodbath of the arena. Tributes are rushing at me from all sides, stabbing, shooting, stabbing, shooting, stabbing, and suddenly I hear a cannon boom in the distance. I barely have enough time to realize that its mine before I black out…

I wake up in cold sweat. I swing myself off the bed and throw on random clothes- a white hoodie and black jeans. I slip into my shoes and run out the door. I run and run and run until I make to the familiar tree at the edge of district 10. I don't stop here though. I climb up the tree, and jump from it into another one on the other side of the fence, the cuff of my jeans slightly clipping the barbed wire. I finally felt safe. I sit in my usual spot, where three moss covered branches intersect.

Breathe in,

Breathe out.

Breathe in,

Breathe out.

My heart rate slows and I am able to concentrate. That's the second time I've had that dream, the first time being yesterday. The reaping is today and I can't deny it any more, I am this year's female tribute. Being the only eligible child in the family, I had to register for fifteen tesserae, and even that barely keeps the stomach pains away. I let that soak in as I finger my mother's necklace.

It's engraved with a tree that's half white gold, half silver. I had found it in the ruins of our house, during the second revolution- the first being the Mockingjay Revolt.

I have now decided to look calm and in control when I am chosen. I won't look surprised. I think for a second that someone may volunteer, but I quickly realize that won't be the case. I don't have any friends. I don't believe in them ever since my "friend" ratted me out for stealing a Peacekeeper's gun. I was whipped on my arms and legs and I still have the scars to this day. The next day when I got back from school with my father, my house was nothing but ashes and my mother had been killed in the fire. In her hands was the tree necklace that had somehow resisted to the flames.

I got up and ran back home. My father would be worried and the last thing we wanted was trouble with the Peacekeepers again. When I get home I spot my father pacing around the front door. As soon as he sees me he runs to me and envelops me in an inescapable bear hug.

"I thought they had caught you out of the district! I was so worried. Please don't do that again!"

My father has been (though I don't blame him) somewhat paranoid with Peacekeepers ever since the fire. Though I know he means well and that he loves me, it can get annoying.

"Come on Nadia, we have to get to the reaping!"

So together we lightly jog to the reaping. I sit down in the 17 year-old section and wait for my name to be called. When the escort reaches into the bowl I have a flutter of hope that maybe, just maybe, that those dreams were just coincidental.

I glance back at my father, who already is armed with a handkerchief, and he smiles, my four younger siblings crawling all over his lap.

I snap my head back towards the stage as I see my father's face fall. My dreams are crushed; any little twinge of hope dissipates as the escort cheerfully says,

"Ms. Nadia Dolan!"

I mount the stage and, as calmly as I can, sit down with my back straight and my head held high. When the boy is chosen I am even more killed inside because it's Will, the boy I have had a crush on since forever.

(I've been trying to ignore him but it isn't working too well.)

He freezes and then I see him step on someone's foot in his rush to the platform. They wince in pain and he looks up at the stage. He looks in my direction without making eye contact, and I see his eyes soften up. He walks up and sits down next to me, placing his firm, tender hand on my knee. He squeezes it supportively as I hold back my tears- tears so continuous that no attempt to suppress them can suffice.

WILLIAM:

One more blow and I'm done.

Ugh.

One of my blisters popped as I swung my hammer into the side of the pig pen, jolting it back into place.

I look down at my hands to asses the damage. Both my hands are covered in blisters from swinging the hammer all day long, trying in vain to fix all of the little imperfections across the farm. The blister that popped has puss running out of it. I wince and try to keep my attention off of it as I walk to the medical kit and dive my good (well not puss-covered, at least) hand into it for something sterile to clean my hand with.

In district two they would probably recommend something cleaner, but all I find is a piece of cloth that I think used to be blue but is so old it isn't any recognizable color. I decide to name this new color 'blue green red orange yellow grey mush sad excuse for a color...um...thingy.' I smile at my little joke.

I wipe off my hand, pick up my tools and medical kit, and sprint home across the fields, hoping I'm not too late. As I walk through the door, Angie, my younger sister, runs up to me followed by my mother.

"Hurry up, Will! You promised you would allow me to dress you up for the reaping!" Says Angie as my mother rushes me into the house, up the stairs and into my room. On my bed I see a white button down shirt with a small logo of a barn and livestock the top left corner. There's a navy blue tie and a pair of black pants that are supposed to match.

"Okay, first you put those on," she says, "And then I'll try and do something about the rat's nest in your hair."

She suppresses a giggle, causing her body to rock violently, tearing at my hair.

I slip out of my clothes and throw on the shirt, tie and pants. As soon as I'm done I tell her to come in.

She takes one look at me and another I'm-trying-not-to-laugh-in-your-face sound comes out of her nose, making her sound like she's got a combination of indigestion and a sinus contagion.

"What's so funny?" I ask.

In response she points at my shirt. I look down and see that I put it on backwards. When I look back up she starts laughing, and I smile.

Her laughter is one of things that I like the most. I don't know why she always tries to hide it- but since we're on a tight schedule, I tuck my arms into my shirt and spin it around so that the front is where it should be.

Then my mom comes and tells us it's time to go. On the way we stop for a minute by the stream so my sister can rinse my hair and untangle it. I have to bend for her to reach my hair and even then she has some trouble reaching it. I'm pretty tall. As she untangles it, I see the brown strands fall in front of my eyes, only to be whisked away behind my ears.

According to my grandma, my great-great-great- well, I don't know how many 'greats'- grandfather would've called my hairstyle something called "Justin Bieber" hair.

I turn back to my little sister and notice that she has finally grown into the dress that my mother had when she was little. Last year it was way too big for her and kept on falling into a wrinkly heap at her knees, but she recently had a small growth spurt.

She then tells me to get up and we take off.

We get there right on time, and I run to the 17 year-old section and sit down next to Angel, my best friend (and possibly something more). I watch sadly as April goes to the 12 year-old section. My heart tightens up as I see her there for the first time. To calm myself I think of the fact that I refused to let her take tesserae so her name is in there only once. I, on the other hand am at a serious risk.

Before I know it they are selecting the girl tribute and some girl my age, Nadia, is chosen. I don't really know her that much; I've just seen her a couple times at school.

I then look back at the escort. With the long red hair and matching dress, she is one of the more normal escorts. (Which isn't saying much.) Her hand dives into the bowl and fumbles around before pulling out the piece of paper.

"William Crowell!" she screams.

For a moment I feel sorry for the guy that was picked, and silently wish him luck.

Then I realize that it was me.

I freeze in my seat as the whole world seems to slow down. I think of April and how she will take this. And then I realize I know exactly how she will take this.

She will volunteer.

Without thinking, I get up and "accidently" step on someone's foot. With my size, I'm pretty sure it really hurts and I'm rewarded with an "OOOUUUCH!"

I look to the front in April's direction and see her mouth moving , her hand bolting up as she attempts to volunteer. But my distraction was enough and no one hears her. I walk to the podium and await the end of the ceremony…

I walk to the stage slowly, thinking of what my strengths are. I'm well muscled because of the fact I'm a farmhand. I can (obviously) use anything that you can wield, and I can use a knife decently. Though this isn't enough for me to win the games, it reassures me enough to not freeze up again until I make it through the goodbyes and into the train.