Torn
Illusion never changed;
Into something real;
I'm wide awake and I can see;
The perfect sky is torn.
District Nine Reapings
Emily-Mae Saxon, 17 years old
The set of doors open from the inside, the smell of disinfectant attacks my nose the second I step through. I don't gag nor show any sort of disgust on my face. The group is sat on the floor in a ring, all eyes turned to face me, I keep my face blank and carry on through.
My brother is already sat amongst the group. He nods in my direction, as I sit between one of the oldest girls and the youngest boy, they all turn to face the man standing above us.
He looks at us all in turn, smiling as his head goes up and down. There's something about his eyes that unnerve me, makes me question why I'm here, but there's no questioning about my attendance so I push it back down. I'm here because it makes sense for me to be here. I want to be here, determined to get all I can from my experience within these four walls. If that means I have to put up with a terrifying leader, a bunch of kids around my age who always seem to judge me, and the fact that my brother is here to see my every move, then so be it.
"Welcome."
His voice cuts through the silence, the boy next to me jumps and when I turn to look at him, his eyes focus on the ground.
"We have no new members this week, not that I was expecting any, so today shall go as always. Due to the reaping I can't stress enough the importance of getting as much out of your time here as you possibly can. What you learn could mean the difference between life and death," he winks at us all and turns to walk towards the far wall.
There's something about our trainer that sends a chill down my spine. None of us know whether these training halls are common in the outer districts, you only really hear about the career districts being the one who create the perfect trainees and send them off to the Hunger Games. But we're a different sort of establishment. Our trainer said, the first day I arrived here with my brother, that if I planned on using these years as a way of working my way up to volunteering I could forget about it and walk out.
Here we learn survival and weaponry so that if the worst happens and we are reaped, then we know what we are doing and can potentially match the careers. I find it smart, I don't get why people don't do this more often in other districts, but I find his logic stupid. If you're training for several years on how to kill people, don't you think it would mess with your mind just a little? The others around me don't seem to have changed whatsoever and our trainer says he doesn't run this little operation to create bloodthirsty killers.
But I've noticed a change within myself and I like it. If I have these skills, if I have the ability to win the Hunger Games and change my life forever, then why wouldn't I take the opportunity? No one here knows what I plan to do, I'd be kicked out and probably tied down so I couldn't volunteer. It would ruin his reputation if I ended up volunteering and word got out that a trainee at the academy that 'doesn't provide careers' did in fact volunteer to enter the Arena.
I laugh, quietly. The thought of ruining him is almost too funny. I don't mean to be cruel, normally I don't get myself involved in the matters of others, preferring to stay to myself and get what I need done out of the way. But he deserves it for his idiocy in believing that training us to kill doesn't create what he is trying to stay away from.
"Want to give it a go?" I look up at my brother, he's smiling down at me, radiating that confidence that has always gotten on my nerves. He looks up and nods over at the rack of swords, the blades dulled so we won't hurt ourselves... much.
"Sure thing. I can spare a moment out of my day to kick your butt," he laughs and shakes his head. Despite our rivalry, I love him and he loves me. It's healthy I guess, having him here does in a sense bring out the best in me. Other times though, it really does put a damper on things if a relative can beat me and I can hear their bragging every minute outside this hall.
We reach the swords and he goes for the longest blade possible. He throws it in the air and catches it with his other hand. If I didn't know my brother, I'd say by the way he handles himself and walks around with that air of confidence, that he is just like me. He wants to volunteer.
But I know Laurie, and I know how much he hates the Hunger Games and everything it stands for. He's the perfect poster boy for the message that this place is trying to get across, sometimes I regret being different, but today I have to do this. With all these years of training behind me, how can I not?
"Ready?"
I nod and lunge forwards. He picks up his sword and parries, he then goes for my stomach but I twirl out of his reach and take a step back. I go on the offensive again, slashing at his chest and then lunging forwards again for his stomach. The point of my sword pokes his side, he sighs, then goes for me.
His sword is almost like a blur with the intensity and speed of his attacks. I deflect the first slash, bring my sword up to meet the second, but the third and then fourth both hit me in the chest. Despite being dulled so they don't draw blood, I'll still have bruises by tomorrow.
"Gotcha."
He winks and lets the sword point downwards to the floor. Around us, many others are practising by themselves with weapons, or doing the same as us and training with a partner. I try not to scream at him for beating me, refusing to let my embarrassment show. Instead I step forwards, extend my hand, and shake when his palm meets my own.
I'm glad he's not volunteering. I don't want to see him die despite the skill he has. Maybe he wouldn't die, but in a weird way I respect his nature and his principles. I have my own and I won't change for anyone, no matter what my volunteering means for this establishment. It's his own fault, the trainer standing with his back to the wall, watching each of us. He trained me to help me survive should I be reaped from the bowl, but in turn he's created someone who does want to go into the Games. I'm not even ungrateful for his support, if it wasn't for him I'd never have the skill to win and change my life.
But still, I'll bring him down when I go up on that stage. Might as well make things a bit more exciting!
Maia Hartley, 15 years old
Zea pulls me along the street towards the big red house. My feet are kicking up gravel as I'm dragged closer and closer to the pathway leading to the door. She's smiling at me, looking over her shoulder, but I can't smile back. Butterflies fill my tummy and I want to run away and not go over there. If it was just any other house I'd be all for it, I'd probably be the one dragging Zea to explore. It's not just any other house though, it's her house and I'm scared. What if she doesn't like me? What do I do if she invites just Zea in, but doesn't let me join my best friend? I want to tell Zea to let me go, that we can go somewhere else and explore, but she keeps her fingers tightly locked with my own and I don't say a word to halt her.
The pathway winds this way and that, a few potted plants are placed every few metres and a funny little collection of gnomes are dotted around as well. It's pretty cute, and I smile at the little guy with a red hat fishing in a tiny blue pond. But then the creaking of the gate behind me registers and the smile drops.
"Zea... do we have to?"
"You're the one that said you'd like to speak to her."
"Yeah but I didn't mean it. What if she doesn't like me?"
Zea crosses her arms like a stern mother and taps her foot against the ground. I hate it when she gets all motherly on me, it's like I can't disagree with her because her arguments are always so much better than mine.
"I'm just scared Zea. You know what it's been like before, what if she's like them?" Them being anyone else who immediately judged me based on the tiny amount of money my parents had. This rift between the district is stupid and pointless, but it doesn't stop me from immediately being called snobby and spoilt. I'm not like that. In fact, a lot of my old friends were the ones who lived in those tiny little houses, it was fun being with them because they used to play cool games. The exploring was the best. I've never ever stopped wanting to explore. My mother says curiosity is a bad thing but she doesn't know what she's going on about. It's brilliant.
Still, my paranoia over what people might say against me hasn't gone ever since my eyes were open to the way things were in this district, and why there was all the judging going on. Zea knows that, yet when I try to nod my head in the direction of the gate, she doesn't budge.
"Maia. Penelope is nothing like what you think she is. You've seen her haven't you, she likes to play about and have fun with all sorts. Now stop being a wimp or I'll have to drag you to the door," she smiles at me, I roll my eyes and nod. Fine.
There's a skip in her step as she leads the way up the path.
Penelope has wealthy relatives but I heard her parents don't like to borrow money, so that's why her own house is very small and she lives in the poorer side of the district. If she's used to living the finer side of life I don't get why I'm nervous. I am though, when Zea knocks on the door, I feel like I'm going to be sick. I'm good with nerves usually but talking to people who aren't my class nowadays is difficult, I wish it wasn't, but it is.
A bolt is pulled and the door handle is pushed down. Zea puts on her winning smile and I stand awkwardly behind her, keeping my eyes on the front and my mind on the way out.
The girl standing in the doorway is in fact Penelope. She reminds me of myself and Zea, that's why I wanted to always talk to her. Up close she looks really pretty, her smile matches Zea's when her eyes scan us both.
"Hey... um, can I help?"
"I'm Zea, this is Maia-" she gestures to me, I try to smile at Penelope but it doesn't work, "-we were wondering if maybe you wanted to hang out with us, maybe go to the reaping together?"
If I was Penelope I'd probably be a bit freaked out, two strangers coming up to me and inviting me to join them to the reaping. But I've spoken to other people before and they've normally been welcoming. Penelope is scary, she shouldn't be though with her little blonde curls and sweet smile.
"Ohh. I don't know, I'll have to go ask my aunty. One second."
The door is left half open and Zea whirls around to face me. Her face is lit up, you'd think that out of the pair of us right now that Zea was the one usually called immature. That title rests with me, but I can't be my usual excitable self near Penelope.
"See Maia, you shouldn't be so scared all the time," she hits my arm playfully and I return the gesture. The pair of us stand in silence as we wait, I'm half hoping that Penelope can't walk with us, but I know that if she can't Zea will come back straight after. She's persistent and dedicated at making new friends, her motto is you only live once, and yeah I get that. I still don't enjoy these sort of moments and I wish that we could both be having some fun before we're forced to head to the Square.
Penelope returns a few minutes later and smiles at the pair of us.
"Aunty said I could go with you but I have to be back straight after since we're having dinner here."
"Awesome, how long is it till we even have to go?" Zea asks both myself and Penelope. I shrug my shoulders but Penelope answers.
"There's about another half an hour until we have to start walking, what would you like to do?"
She's ever so eager and definitely not shy talking to new people. Maybe she is the new addition to our little friendship group, me and Zea have plenty of other friends but it's usually just the two of us.
"Well-" Zea turns to me and giggles, "-why don't we let Maia decide?"
The smile reaches my face, this is me in my element.
"Follow me." I run off, leading the pair of them down the path and out the gate. Thirty minutes is enough to have a bit of fun, believe me, I'm the expert.
Brazen Quincy, 16 years old
Nel tries to beat me out the door but I win. When I turn to face her, her arms are crossed and her cheeks puffed out, bright red and her face evidently annoyed. Perfect. I smile at her and rub my hands together, walking backwards and absorbing the look of worry that now flashes across her face. Nel may like to beat her older brother, but she's still extremely protective over everyone. Kind of stupid in a sense, she should watch out for herself, and this is me here. Brazen Quincy. I'm not going to hurt myself from something so tedious as walking backwards.
"Beat you," I stick my tongue out and Nel steps forwards, worry leaving her eyes and her fingers clenching into a fist. She doesn't make it more than one more step when Baye, Tiella and Finlay barge through and knock her forwards.
If it wasn't for me lunging towards her, her nose would have smashed against the concrete. Say what you will about me, but I still care for my family. Just because I'm better than them doesn't mean I won't protect them if needs be.
"What would you do without me?" I laugh and push her upright as my mum and dad run through after our three youngest siblings. I look away from Nel and over to the pair of them chasing them around, shouting and causing a scene. They've forgotten about me and Nel so I start walking forwards, Nel's footsteps finally following onwards as I reach the pavement.
"Next time, don't be such an ass." Her voice is cold as her shoulder barges into my own and nearly knocks me over into a little lady passing by. I give her the most disgusted look I can, how dare she get in my way, and run after my younger sister.
She doesn't make it very far, I catch up to her just as I see my mum wrap her arms around Finlay and my dad herding the other two towards their mother. Nel sighs when I place a hand on her shoulder and turns around, nose screwed up and giving me the look that all girls seem to give when annoyed.
"Not very fast are you?"
"See what I mean."
What, it's true. I beat her out the door and I caught up with her quickly. How is it my own fault that I'm just much better than my siblings at everything they try to do? I'm probably better than my parents as well, if I wanted to I bet I could gather up my younger siblings in much less time than they have.
"Chill sis, what's got you all angry?"
"You have. Now piss off."
She has a mouth on her. I don't bother catching up with her this time as she storms off, emotions everywhere and trying to make me feel bad. If she thinks she's succeeded she really hasn't. What is there to feel bad for? That she can't take the fact I beat her in everything? That I'm just a brilliant person? I don't believe in naïve arrogance but if you can do something then why not flaunt it a bit? Show the world what you can do? I bet Nel would appreciate a bit of advice from the master himself. I make a mental note to help her one of these days.
Instead of trying to locate one of my many friends, and let's face it I have a tonne, I weave my way around the annoying crowd to reach the Square. I don't especially like these reapings all that much. Normally I'm stood next to someone I find completely and utterly stupid, but maybe this year I'll be lucky, maybe one of the stupid people will be reaped. Four are going after all.
The open street gets even wider when myself and the rest of the crowd around me reach the lines leading up to the tables. A few people here and there spot me and nod in my direction. I give them a big smile, a wave, and proceed forwards to join the back of one of the lines.
I'd push in, thinking about it I probably should, but one of the guys at the front is rather tall and his arms... well they're very big. I hate it when people are too big for me to say anything to or try to assert myself over. I hate it, I should be the one intimidating others, not the other way round. It's all I have... I don't have anything el- no. No Brazen, you're perfect don't doubt yourself for a second.
The big guy gets called through and soon enough I step forwards. I give the Peacekeeper a smile, it's good to be on the good side of the authorities... maybe not teachers or parents but guys carrying a gun are the ones I definitely am not stupid enough to get all angry. He doesn't return it though, normally I'd insult him or swear or something, but I bite my tongue as he pricks my finger and another one pushes my forwards.
Rude.
The actual Square itself is quite packed, a lot of the sections are on the brink of overflowing and the people on the outside are trying to control crying babies and other little kids messing about. I laugh at one guy chasing around his younger daughter. A Peacekeeper intervenes, I don't bother to hear the little exchange of words. I want to get out of here as soon as possible and hang out with my friends. Which friends I'll go for I don't know, but I'm sure I'll make my decision sooner or later.
Those standing in my section part to let me through, one or two get in my way but I squeeze past and give them the finger when I turn around. They can't really follow me through given the fact that as soon as I pass, others who had moved for me step forwards again. There's a space between two guys I don't recognise so I stand there and look over the heads in front of me. Most of them are smaller than me so I have a good view of the stage and the two reaping bowls waiting to be used by the escort.
Once everything's settled down and the Peacekeepers seem pleased that everyone's here, the Mayor steps out from the Justice Building and heads towards the microphone. I don't give him much notice, he's a short little man with a balding head and nothing remotely fascinating about him. Instead I keep my eyes rooted on the escort as he begins the Treaty of Treason.
Our escort this year is the same as last year. Chryssa is sat with her long light blue dress falling past the chairs and reaching halfway towards the edge of the stage. Her face is powdered, from here I can make out light blue smothered across her eyes. When the Mayor introduces her to us all I join in the clapping. At least she's interesting, the Capitol people always are compared to this lot.
"The Quarter Quell is always such a tremendous celebration of the districts' talent. I'm sure District Nine will provide skilled tributes for this year's Games," she claps her hands together, takes off one of her white gloves and walks over to the girls' bowl.
It's up to the brim with white slips. A few fall out as she plunges her hand in amongst them all, she goes for one near the very bottom and with a smile, she pulls it out and walks back over to the microphone. I can't say I'm going to miss whoever it is, unless it's Nel. Oh god. The thought actually hurts somewhere inside of me and I don't like it. As she slowly unfolds it and clears her throat it gets a hundred times worse. What is this feeling even about? Last year I didn't feel it, is it because it's the Quarter Quell? Or maybe I just ate something bad for breakfast?
"Robyna Pearson!"
There's some commotion going on over by the girls' section. As Robyna steps forwards – at least I imagine it's Robyna – another girl steps out. She screams 'I volunteer' and runs up to the stage. The whispering that follows is almost like a tidal wave, it fills the entire Square. It's a bit childish but no one really sees a volunteer from Nine, ever.
One man at the back is screaming profanities up at the girl until he is dragged off by Peacekeepers. I don't know who he is or what his problem is with the girl, but I look up at the stage.
"My name is Emily-Mae Saxon. I'm proud to represent District Nine."
Chryssa looks as if she's about to collapse, her cheeks are flushed with red and when she goes to say her congratulations it's nothing but a squeak.
Some people laugh, but the majority of people have fallen silent again. The next name called belongs to Barley Richardson. The guy is really tall and looks very strong. He could be a potential victor but then again he seems to be on the verge of crying so probably not. Emily-Mae could win, I wish people weren't such babies and actually held themselves with some dignity up on the stage. At the very least they could try not to cry.
"Maia Hartley!"
I think I've heard of Maia before. The girl that walks up to the stage is crying, her dress tripping her up and one of her friends shouting up at her as she reaches Chryssa's side.
One more name and then I'm free to go. Finally. Apart from Emily-Mae this has been extremely embarrassing for our District.
"Brazen Quincy!"
For a split second I don't understand. Who? But then it's like I've been dunked under water and not allowed back up again. My breath catches in my throat, my heart thuds against my ribs, and everything seems to go in slow motion as I stumble forwards.
Don't cry Quincy... do not cry.
When everything rushes back to me, time returning to normal, the sound that does escape my mouth is the loudest sob I've ever think I've made.
I tell myself to shut up, my brain screaming at my eyes and mouth to stop embarrassing itself, but they don't. Tears are leaking everywhere, my lungs burning as I walk up on the stage. It's like there's two sides battling for dominance. The little kid, the scared little kid, knowing he's going to die. And then Brazen Quincy, the guy who knows he's better than everyone else.
Chryssa rolls her eyes at my face but puts on a smile as she says goodbye. A hand grabs my shoulder and starts pushing me forwards, I spot Nel in the audience just as the doors close. Her eyes are wide, her jaw hanging open. Nel... NEL! I break down again, fall on my knees, and don't stop crying.
Barley Richardson, 17 years old
Instead of sitting on the chair placed in the centre, I stand by the window. I have the curtain pulled back, my eyes hovering over the buildings below, the people milling around and returning to their lives. I won't ever get that chance again. My life will soon be cut short, in the worst and most painful way.
At the very back, behind the buildings, I can see the grain fields. Fields of beautiful yellows and oranges and everything else I grew to love as I spent my life working for my family. I'm all cried out, the memories attack my brain and an overwhelming sadness floods through me, but I do not cry.
People out there, those who will go home and celebrate with their families that another year has passed and they've been safe, they only see who they want to see. I don't wallow in self pity about my life here in Nine. Why bother wasting my life wishing things could be different and not just try my very best to actually make them different? That's why I'm going to miss the fields so much.
If you're a hard worker and do your best to support your family with as many hours put into working as possible, then usually you're respected. I guess I am somewhat, but that still doesn't keep the eyes from looking me over with worry, and the hands to mouths as people whispered about me.
In Nine I'm shocked that people put a lot of stock into the way I look and how that must constitute as what my behaviour must be like. I'm tall, broad shouldered, with arms that I'm sure are bigger than most. But that's only because I like to remain healthy and working has helped me grow fit. Apparently though just because a lot of the people who do work are thin and scrawny, most with barely enough skin on their bodies to hide the outline of ribs and other bones, I am pushed aside and cast out.
I shrug my shoulders. What's done is done. I stand back and let the curtain fall into place and walk around the room slowly. It's all a lot to absorb and try to make sense of. I always watched the Hunger Games and always did my best to take in what I was seeing so that if I was reaped I'd know what to do. Putting what's in my head into effect might be a bit difficult. Who knows what the other tributes are like? What the Arena could be like? The mutts, the traps, the weather, the scene of the bloodbath, it's all different every year. I'm terrified; any of the other three – maybe not Emily-Mae - who are saying they are fine are just trying to kid themselves.
I wonder what Emily-Mae, Maia and Brazen are like? I've never been good around people, judgement doesn't exactly help my confidence in dealing with others but I'm naturally shy as it is. The Capitol won't like it, but then I guess they'll like how big I am. At least I have one thing going for me over the others.
Oh god. I shake my head and place a hand on the table to support myself. Am I already thinking about how I can survive over the others? Maia who cried just like I did, Brazen who broke down completely. Even Emily-Mae who volunteered for whatever reason. Each of them are probably telling themselves right now that they can do this, as is probably every tribute around Panem now ready to go to the Capitol and take part in this Quell.
The odds aren't exactly in my favour. I finally take a seat and rest my head in my hands. The door opens, the Peacekeeper announces I have visitors, and in comes my parents.
My mother wraps her arms around me and kisses my cheek. My father stands awkwardly behind her, giving me the tiniest of smiles when I find his eyes.
"It'll be okay Barley – shush, it'll be okay."
She strokes my back like I'm some little kid again but I welcome the closeness. I take a deep breath, taking in the way my mother smells of home and the little details about the way her hair is always draped over one shoulder, her fingernails cut to the actual finger.
"It's not like you don't know your stuff, son, you've watched enough Hunger Games to know how they work and what to do to give yourself a better chance."
My mother's stepped back and now my father has joined her side. He smiles at me and I try to reflect the same confidence he has in myself.
All thoughts of my size giving me an advantage over the others has left me completely. The careers are the same size, maybe even bigger, and they have weapon experience. What do I have? I can use the tools we use out on the grain fields reasonably well, but how far will I get with one of them when an arrow or a knife is headed straight for my skull. My breath catches and I look away from my parents.
They both must realise what's going on as neither say another word. Father pats me awkwardly on the back and mother gives me another gentle kiss on my cheek.
It's enough to calm me down just a fraction, I look at them both and smile, it's not forced, but it's definitely not going to last for long before I do end up crying again just like I did up on the stage.
"If I don't come back. If I d- If I die... please, don't lose yourselves. Please, promise me that."
I can't bear the thought of the two of them breaking down and stopping their lives over my death. It's not right, my death can't end their lives. It will be difficult but they have to move on.
"Barley don't talk like that."
"No, he has a point. Barley-" my father steps forwards and places a firm hand on my shoulder, "- I know you can win. You have it in you, but if the worst happens, I'll look after your mother."
It helps. It helps an awful lot as the door is opened and they are called out.
I call out my love for them and they do the same just as the door closes in my face. That's that then. If I never see them again and this district, at least I know they'll be alright. I don't cry like I thought I would when I'm called to leave, I stand up and walk out with my head held high. The Peacekeeper stares at me as I walk past him. Let him stare, the whole of Panem now knows my name, he can stare all he likes, it won't change how I feel.
Torn by Natalie Imbruglia
A/N- Look I actually stuck with what I said! District Nine two days after District Eight! Only three more reapings to go, cannot wait to finally reach the Capitol and get closer and closer to the beginning of the Games! :D
One point I do have to make. Here we go. Okay, so my idea of the way society works in the Districts (the outer districts mainly) is that unless they have ties to the rich, the poor already have stereotypical ideas towards those better than themselves because let's face it, a lot are dying and the rich have everything they do not. If I was in such a situation that was so bad that I was on the verge of dying if I didn't eat then I'd hate those who had what I didn't regardless of whether I really should hate them or not. The same sort of thing applies to Barley, whilst those around him are wasting away he's still remaining strong and people will judge him on that. But hey, that's the way I view things ;D
You might see similarities between Brazen and Isaac but with Isaac he's much more in it for the attention, even the negative attention, with Brazen it's a bit different xD
Anyway here's the question as usual!
Out of these four, who is your favourite and why?
Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed this chapter!