Reapings
District Eleven
Elphia "Elphie" Sharps' POV
The sunlight filtered through the small window of the hut under which was my bed made of hay and heather. Not the most comfortable but good enough. Comforts didn't come easily here, in Eleven. Our family worked day and night on the fields to put together enough money to at least have the next meal.
I shook my head to clear my thoughts and stood up, staggering a bit, still sleepy. At least we didn't have to go to work that day. I hated work and so did my brother Arcturus. Arty's thought almost made me cry. I clenched my fists and dragged myself to where he was lying peacefully. But Arty was never peaceful or happy.
"Rise and shine, sweety!" I chirped. He was only two years younger than me but I treated him as if he were five or six. Arty didn't mind, in fact he loved it. I didn't want to wake him up but this year would be his first Reapings and I didn't want us to be late. The punishment was too severe, and I couldn't lose Arty. Not after Martin.
My little brother opened his cute big brown eyes and blinked. I hugged him tightly and ruffled his floppy brown hair. We looked quite alike, with our toffee skins, brown eyes, pouty lips, short and thin stature and the obvious lack of baby fat due to being underfed. Still, my brother was the sweetest boy in the world.
"Arty, get ready for the Reapings," I whispered.
He started trembling at that. Eyes moist and lips quivering, he cuddled up to me and shook his head. I stroked his head, trying to calm him.
"It won't be you," I said, trying hard to mean it. I wasn't sure though. Both of us had taken a lot of tesserae. If one of us had to be chosen, I hoped it would be me and not him. I could not volunteer in his place and that worried me a lot. We had gone through a lot of tough times but Arty had suffered the most.
I remembered that cursed day when it had all started.
Our elder brother, Martin, who was only thirteen, committed a crime. No, he didn't kill anyone or something drastic like that. All he did was to steal a pair of night vision glasses. The next day he was caught by the Peacekeepers. Our parents pleaded, begged, even offered to be bonded labourers. Martin was crying hysterically, begging them to forgive him. I could never forget the crazy look in the Peacekeeper's eyes, his smile when he had produced his gun, his laughter when he had shot my brother in the forehead. His blood had sprayed like a small fountain, his eyes glazed over, and he fell to the ground.
We were not even allowed to go near his corpse till the Peacekeepers were there. They made an example of Martin, threatening everyone that they would meet the same fate lest they did anything of the sort.
Arcturus had seen it happen. A young boy of nine, with an even younger mind. He couldn't take it. After seeing Martin being shot and hearing the Peacekeepers' sadist laughter, he never spoke again. I didn't know what was wrong, whether he was scared or in a state of shock but I was certain of one thing: a part of him had died with Martin that day.
That was three years ago. Even now, Arcturus refused to speak. Whatever anyone did, however much we tried to help, it was all in vain.
The boy pulled at my arm and I looked into his eyes. His eyes wandered to a corner.
"Okay," I replied.
There was a notepad and a pencil there. Arty always carried them with him because few people understood his sign language. Even this stationary was expensive but we had to make arrangements for Arty.
When I gave him the notepad and pencil, he scribbled furiously at it.
Where are mom and dad?
"They had to go and work on the fields. Mom told me yesterday," I replied.
He nodded and scrambled to his feet. He blinked at me and wrote.
We have to get ready.
I nodded and found a small brown tunic top and much worn grey trousers for him and a grey faded dress for myself. We couldn't afford shoes, so when he came back in his Reaping outfit after washing up, I gave him dried leaves to tie around his feet. I did the same. They weren't comfortable but nothing could be done.
I grabbed his hand and started leading him towards the Square. I prayed for our safety for another year. Hunger Games were so despicable. Panem was so despicable. They snatched away both my brothers, one's life and the other's voice. I could never forgive them. My only dream was to see the fall of the Capitol.
Ayra Redgrove's POV
"Hey girl! Watch where you're going, you witch!"
I glared at the boy who yelled at Rosa, who seemed to be scared him. There was no reason to be, I was there with her to protect her.
I grabbed the boy's collar and shoved him so hard he fell down on his back. I cracked my knuckles and growled.
"If you dare do that again, trust me, you will not be able to see the sunrise tomorrow."
The brat was foolhardy; he was pretty grazed but he still couldn't keep his mouth shut.
"Wh-what will you do? Kill me?"
I smiled sweetly at him and kneeled down beside him.
"No dear. I will just take out your eyes and play with them."
The boy scrambled to his feet hurriedly and fled with all his might, yelling about mad girls.
"Ayra! He could have hurt you!" Rosa exclaimed, grabbing my shoulders. I grinned at her.
"Nobody messes with people I love, Rosa. And especially not with my beloved."
Rosa blushed violently at that. I laughed. We had to keep these feelings of ours a secret from everyone. If they found out, we'd both be disowned.
The only good thing about the reaping day was that we didn't have to work. It was boring to be in the orchards, picking apples and then taking them to the factory to be processed. It was tiring and risky too. Yet, my little brother Seyon had to work in the factory, despite being only seven. I had tried to stop him once, it was only last month. The punishment was too painful. My back still hurt when I remembered the floggings I had received. I did not tell them to stop though, and they continued till I had fainted.
Later my parents told me not to intervene. If I repeated it the Peacekeepers would kill me and my family. I didn't care about myself, life was more rotten than a rotten apple anyway, but I couldn't risk the safety of my family. So I did not say anything again.
My house was a small complex of two shacks with occasional rats running here and there. Rosa's house wasn't much better. She lived quite nearby and frankly speaking, she was my only friend. I could never get along with anyone, I always ended up fighting them or yelling at them. It was a wonder how Rosa and I became friends. And more.
"Well, see you at the Square," she said and winked before leaving. I waved at her and then walked towards my house. My parents had left for work, they didn't get a day off, and so I was left with my four siblings.
Meya came running up to me, two year old Zarra cuddled in her arms.
"Ayra! Zarra was missing you! You have to get ready! We have to transport those apples tomorrow! You-" she began.
"Calm down!" I exclaimed, "What's the hurry?"
Before she could answer, my brother Malcolm came there too. He was only nine, too young to be reaped, but he had a maturity that even elder people did not have.
"You have twenty three minutes to reach the Square and not be punished," he said with a frown. I was ruffling Seyon's hair with Zarra on my shoulders. I looked up at Malcom.
"Twenty three minutes!" I cried, putting Zarra carefully in Malcom's arms and dashing indoors to change.
I combed my black hair and did them in tight braids and ponytail. I had dark skin and dark eyes, angled, with thick eyelashes. I had full lips and an oval shaped face with hollow cheeks. I was quite tall and I had a big forehead. I might have been quite pretty had I not been so poor. I put on a threadbare dress and then ran out. Meya was the only one old enough to be reaped apart from me, so the two of us made a dash for the Square.
I wished her the best of luck and joined the other seventeen year old girls. I looked toward the stage, where Tamara had taken the mic in her hands. In her very high pitched voice she welcomed us. I pressed my hands to my ears. Her voice was so irritating! It matched her ridiculous attire though. I mean, who would dress up as a tomato? The Capitolites were weird but Tamara was the boss.
"Let's start with the girls!"
I kept my fingers crossed. Not me, not Meya, not Rosa, not me…
"Ayra Redgrove!"
What?! What did she say?!
"Ayra Redgrove, please come up!"
I saw Rosa's hand starting upwards, her mouth was opened and she began.
"I-"
Before she could utter it, I yanked her hand down and clamped my hand against her mouth.
"What are you doing?" I growled and started for the stage, shooting angry looks at everyone. How could I be reaped?! I tried to keep my expression neutral but I was sure my expression was a furious one. I felt devastated, almost completely sure I would never come back. I hoped that Rosa would find someone else if I didn't make it back. Her happiness was of utmost importance.
I considered knocking off Tamara and making a run for it. I clenched my fists. I couldn't do it. My family would be hurt, I couldn't put them in danger. My siblings' safety was my responsibility.
"Will you like to say anything?" Tamara asked sweetly. I glared at her and snatched away the mic.
"What would you say if you were at my place?" I asked in a soft tone, completely opposite of what I felt.
"I- I-" she began, trying to find words. But she wouldn't be able to. How could she? She would never be in my place.
I smiled at her and said, "Well, people of Eleven, I'll try my best to return. Keep rooting for me!"
With that I tossed the mic towards Tamara, who clumsily caught it just because it got stuck in her dress.
"Now," she said, trying to get everything under control, "The boys!"
She did not waste a single second in pulling up the guy's name. I smirked.
"Arcturus Sharps!"
"Noo!" a scream emanated from the fourteen year old girls section. I saw a young girl run towards the twelve year old boy's section, where a boy, I presumed her brother, had curled up in a ball and was crying silently. The girl hugged him and looked at the Peacekeepers with pleading eyes.
"No! Please no!" she cried. One of the men pushed her away and carried the small boy and threw him on the stage.
The boy did not move at all, just trembled as he sobbed, still curled in a ball. I felt really sad seeing him, he was so young…
Tamara knew that the boy would not say or do anything. He was in a bad state of shock. He refused to say anything.
"So here are our tributes! Ayra Redgrove and Arcturus Sharps!"
No one clapped. The whole Square was filled with a silence. We didn't shake hands; the Peackeepers had lifted him up and were carrying him to the Justice Building.
All the while when I was taken to the Justice Building, I couldn't help but wonder about the boy. He was a bloodbath, I was sure of it. But I hoped he would make it far.
Arcturus "Arty" Sharps' POV
How could this be happening? How could I be reaped?
When I had calmed down, I found myself in the Justice Building, mom and dad had me in their embrace. Elphie was crying hard. Her sobs were scaring me. The Games…no! I couldn't register what they were saying. Elphie had given me a clay horse which she had made herself. I wrapped my arms around her and cried.
I would never see them again! Never. I was gone. Nothing could be done! Nothing!
They were taken away so soon. I wished I could say something to them. Just one word, how much I loved them. I couldn't. I just couldn't.
After their departure, unconsciousness came as a welcoming relief.
There it was, D11! Thank you Guest and ChocolateChipHomicide for these amazing tributes! In case anyone's confused, the tributes are Ayra and Arcturus, not Elphia, though it was fun to write from her POV. And thank you all of you wonderful people who reviewed the previous chapter! They really motivate me to keep writing this story! Thank you so much! Hope you all enjoyed this chapter.
Have a good day!
