Chapter 12-The District 10 Reaping
The mayor of District 10 is speaking to all of the citizens of his district a week before the reaping.
POV: Anthony Fairwing (Mayor of District 10)
This is it. The moment I've been dreading for months now. The thought of this moment has kept me awake for hours every night for the past month. Sometimes, I even wake up screaming from horrible nightmares of death.
"Mr. Fairwing, everything's set!" my assistant says, adjusting his camera.
I sigh and hold my face in my hands in horror. This is the most traumatizing thing I have ever done in my life. But, a leader must do what is best for his people. This is certainly best for my people. I'm sure of it.
Last week, I set up a conference with the mayor of District 11. The two of us agreed to do this in our districts the week before the reaping.
I clear my throat before pushing open the doors of the Justice Building and walking out onto the stage, with an uncomfortable posture.
"Welcome" I say into the microphone, my voice echoing across the square like thunder. I scan over the crowd nervously, and District 10's population of about twenty-thousand stares back. "We are gathered here today to select one young man and woman to fight in the Hunger Games this year. I know that you are surprised, but I assure you that this is not the reaping. So, I have put together a short speech to explain why you are all here looking at me right now."
Trembling madly, I reach into the pocket of my black coat and pull out an index card with the seal of District 10 on it. I read the card out loud.
"This year's quarter quell twist was an interesting one: the two tributes from each District must be volunteers. However, in the history of the Hunger Games, District 10 has had very few volunteers. So, I have put together a makeshift 'reaping' of sorts, where I will pick one young man and woman, who will be required to volunteer at the reaping next week."
I put the card back in my pocket and realize that I'm fighting back tears now. Me, randomly selected two innocent children and forcing them to volunteer into the game of death? Maybe I'm just as bad as the Capitol. But, I don't want my people to have blood on their hands. I don't want them to know that their safety this year came at the price of someone else's life. This was the best thing to do. I'm sure of it.
If we did what the Capitol suggested and just waited around for someone to volunteer, it would take days! People would starve to death or die of dehydration until somebody gave into the pressure and finally volunteered! I can't let that happen.
"As usual, ladies first" I saunter over to the girl's reaping bowl. I'm crying now. I don't even try to hide it. This is sick and twisted in every way possible. I feel like a monster as I reach into the girl's reaping bowl and pluck out a name before walking back to the microphone and unfolding it gingerly. A collective inhale comes from the crowd, and you can hear a pin drop.
"The female that will be required to volunteer next week is… Amanda Boix."
The crowd is completely silent for over a minute. "Amanda Boix" I repeat.
My entire soul is crushed in one instant when a girl of certainly only twelve starts up to the stage, balling her eyes out and sobbing uncontrollably. Twelve. The youngest victor of the Hunger Games ever was fourteen.
Once she's finally up to the stage, I give her a quick hug. Less of an "I love you" hug, but more of a comforting one. She turns towards the crowd and a horrified look spreads over her young, beautiful face.
I feel like screaming and running back into the Justice Building. I just doomed someone to die.
"And now for the boys" I walk over to the boy's bowl and pick out a name before walking back over to the microphone and reading it out loud.
"Colton Spears" I read.
"Right here!" a boy from the crowd raises his hand before running up to the Justice Building steps. He's shaking wildly and breathing rapidly. I can practically hear his pulse.
"Very well" I muster up through a sob. "You two kids may return to your families for now."
The two kids promptly run back to their families.
Maybe I'm just as much of a monster as the Capitolites themselves. I just doomed two innocent children to die. And that's what scares me more than anything.
Note: So, in case you don't get what just happened, here's a simplified explanation of mayors of Districts 10 and 11, knowing that their districts have had very few volunteers (and that people would starve in the square waiting for someone to volunteer) , set up a special system. The week before the reaping, the mayor randomly selects a girl and a boy. Those two kids are forced to volunteer at the reaping the next week.
Amanda Boix is leaving for the reaping.
POV: Amanda Boix (District 10 Female)
Note: Amanda's last name is pronounces 'Bwa'
"Here's the dress I bought you for the reaping!" mom smiles as she reaches into the ornate turquoise box and pulls out a long, blue dress. "Do you like it?"
I grin wildly. "Are you kidding? I love it!"
Then, something hits be and I'm pulled back to my senses. Today is the reaping. Today is the day that I'll be forced to 'volunteer' into the games. Today is the beginning of the end of my life.
"Are you all right, Maya?" mom asks, concerned.
"Yeah, I'm fine, Mama."
I'm not fine. But, Mama might as well be able to read minds, that's just how good she is at telling how I' feeling.
"Is it the reaping again? Come on, Maya, I know you can win. Just act confident. Make everybody like you, and you're sure to win."
"I don't want to die!" I yell, balling my eyes out. I fall to the floor, gasping for breath, and bury my face in my hands.
"Nobody said that you're going to die, honey. You can win. I know you can. Oh, look! We're late!"
I look up at the clock. 6:50 a.m. The reaping begins in ten minutes, and it's dangerously close to the time when the peacekeepers walk around and make sure that nobody's hiding in their homes and skipping the reaping.
It's all that Mom and Dad can do to run into the closet to hastily put on something that isn't work wear as I heave the enormous dress over my body. All three of us then leap for the door, swing it open, and dart towards the Justice Building in the sweltering heat.
"Next!" the peacekeeper demands. The girl in front of me hastily runs off to the square.
"Finger?"
"Oh, of course." I put out my right index finger. There's a sharp pinch as he injects the needle into my tender flesh and smears the blood onto a card labeled "Boix, Amanda"
Blood is a beautiful color. I mean, it's red, but it's also so much more than that. It's such a beautiful mixture of reds and blacks and blues, that all blend together in a careful and calculating mixture that twists itself into beautiful shades when it dries.
"Next!" the peacekeeper demands. I hurriedly dart off to the area for twelve year-old females at the reaping. I try to act natural as everybody stares at me. They all recognize my face from the choosing last week. They all know that I'm required to volunteer. They all know that I'm required to be a tribute.
And, in District 10, the word 'tribute' is pretty much synonymous with 'corpse'.
Colton Spears is at his house the night before the reaping.
POV: Colton Spears (District 10 Male)
"You can come eat now!" Mom yells. She sets the pan down and pours the soup into a small, plastic container before walking over and setting it on the table. I instantly set down the book I'm reading and start over to the kitchen. The air carries scent of chicken stew that makes my mouth flood with saliva.
"Thanks, Mom" I say to her from across the room. She turns away from the sink, where she's cleaning off the pan with a dish rag.
"You're welcome" she replies plainly.
The instant I sit down at the table, I clutch the spoon in my right hand and devour the bowl of soup, consuming the entire thing in less than five minutes.
"You know you shouldn't be eating that fast!" Mom rolls her eyes. "Savor it!"
She's talking, of course, about the fact that I'm eating soup. Soup this rich in flavor is ridiculously expensive for us, and we couldn't afford if we saved our nickels for a decade. But, during the choosing last week, the mayor required to volunteer tomorrow. Pitifully, a woman gave my mother an entire chicken, telling her to give it to me as a gift. My mother killed the hen with boiling water before slicing it up and making it into a delicious chicken soup.
Oh, no. The reaping. Every time I think about it, I lose my mind.
I close my eyes as hard as I can and think about happy things. It's a technique I learned a few years ago whenever something really bad was happening. I try to contain it, but I just can't. A moan tumbles from my lips.
Mom turns, alarmed. "Is it the reaping again?"
"Yes."
"Just don't think about it. Think about happy things. Close your eyes very tightly, and think about how great it is to be alive."
The part she doesn't say is 'treasure what little time remains in your life, because it's almost over.'
We all know that it's true. We all know that I won't be alive next month. But, I have to at least try to win. I mean, I have something great called common sense, and I won't push my luck in the arena. I mean, simple enough.
Then, there's the reaping. I can't cry during the reaping. I have to act strong. Strong is what gets you sponsors, and you need sponsors to win the games.
I turn my head to the right and peer out of the cloudy, glass window towards the seemingly endless field where cows dot the landscape and a blazing sun sits near the horizon.
Maybe the Hunger Games are a good thing. If I win, that's a good thing; we can move to the Capitol and escape the poverty of District 10. On the other hand, if I die, I don't see how that could be a bad thing; an eternity of peace, free from the threat and force of the Capitol.
After all, since I'm too young to work, I'm really just an extra mouth to feed.
Our escort, Demeter Rollins, is a lady that loves to listen to herself talk. She babbles on about how great it is to be our escort and how exciting the Hunger Games will be this year, as if she doesn't tell us the exact same thing every year. We play along, listening to her babbling about her pet hamster and her friend's pet cat for over twenty minutes. I zone out after she starts listing the names of all the frog species she's seen in her local pond.
I'm startled back to reality by the clicking sound of Demeter's high-heeled shoes as she saunters over to the girl's reaping bowl. She reaches her hand into the bowl and fishes for a name before finally plunging her hand into the mass of papers and picking one out. She shuffles back over to the microphone and clumsily unfolds the tiny slip of paper. She brushes her chestnut-brown hair to the side, smiles, and reads the name out loud.
"Betty Gardner!" She gushes into the microphone. I cringe at her magnified voice. It's laced with disgusting, sticky sweetness that makes me want to vomit. "Any volunteers?"
The entire square is enveloped with silence. Every head in District 10 turns towards one helpless looking twelve year old in the middle of the crowd. We all know who it is, of course. It's Amanda, the girl that the mayor selected and forced to volunteer today.
There's an awkward silence for over ten seconds, before the girl finally speaks up.
"I volunteer as tribute" she says, nervously.
"Well, dear, come on up to the stage so we can get your name!" Demeter is shaking with exhilaration. The second ever volunteer from District 10 is walking to the stage, now. (That's right; our second ever volunteer.)
Amanda doesn't have to push anybody out of her way. Everybody clears a path for her towards the stage. She walks nervously down the path in complete silence, and starts up the Justice Building steps before standing by Demeter's side.
"What's your name, dear?" Demeter asks, putting on an imbecilic smile and shoving the microphone in front of Amanda's face.
"Amanda Boix" she murmurs. Her voice is barely audible.
"Well, Amanda, how do you feel, being District 10's first volunteer in eighty-six years?"
"Great."
"That's the spirit of the games! I think it's time to pick a lucky guy to join you, eh?"
Unless the spirit of the games is talking as plainly as possible and fighting back tears, I don't think a human being could be any more stupid than Demeter is. In her defense, though, she's extremely dumbfounded that District 10 has had our first volunteer in almost nine decades.
At this point, boys from all across the square are giving me nervous glances. Why are they staring at me so expectantly?
All of the sudden, the memory crashes down upon me like a pile of bricks and a black worm of dread forms in my stomach. I have to volunteer. I swallow.
Demeter's shoes click over the hot brick ground as she shuffles over to the boy's reaping bowl and picks out a name. She clumsily unfolds it and walks back over to the microphone. Demeter scans over the crowd, looks at the name, and reads it out loud.
"Alastair Harold!" she announces. "Any volunteers?"
Every single face in the entire square turns towards me, and there's a few seconds of awkward tension before I raise my hand and yell "I volunteer as tribute!" before darting up to the stage.
"Can you give us a name?" Demeter shoves the microphone in my face.
"Yeah, umm.. Colton Spears" I announce firmly.
"Let's put our hands together for Amanda Boix and Colton Spears, our two tributes!" the crowd claps quietly. They don't mean it, though. They're just clapping because they're required to.
"Well, you two, shake hands!"
I reach out my hand and grab Amanda's. We both shake up and down. Being a twelve year-old, her hands are so small that I actually have to just wrap my hand around her fist. We turn back towards the crowd.
"This concludes the reaping!" Demeter proclaims. "Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor."
Amanda Boix is receiving visitors in the Justice Building.
POV: Amanda Boix (District 10 Female)
The door of the Justice Building flies open, lets in a tiny bit of warm air from outside, then slams shut. Standing in the doorway is my mother.
"Mama!" I thrust myself off of the couch and lunge myself towards her body. I slam into her body with full momentum and wrap my arms around her as hard as I can.
"Maya, I love you so much. These next few weeks will be very difficult without you."
I notice that she doesn't say "The rest of my life will be difficult without you," even though I know that in my heart.
"You have to win" Mom whispers, squeezing me even tighter than before. "I love you so much."
"Just don't let Susan (Susan's my younger sister) take any tesserae, unless you really need some."
"We won't."
"Because, If I die in the games…" I venture.
"Stop!" she interrupts me. "Don't think that way. You can't afford to. Survival is your number one option now. Be sure to get lots of supplies, and get lots of sponsors. Do that, and you're sure to win."
"Oh, I love you so much, Mama" I shove my face into her torso and begin crying. At first, it's just mild irritation in the back of my eye and my throat. Slowly, it forms into a big wet tear that bursts out of my eye.
"I don't want to die, Mama!"
"Nobody said that you were going to die, honey. You can win! Let's go over to the couch together and relax."
As we're lying on the couch together, I hug her closer than I ever have before; savoring the last time I'll ever see her in my life.
Colton Spears is receiving visitors in the Justice Building.
POV: Colton Spears (District 10 Male)
I jump as the door flies open and, what do you know, it's Theo, my best friend from school.
"I knew you would be the first person to come!" I exclaim.
"Yeah, I'm really going to miss you, now" he fidgets with his shirt nervously.
"Hey, a little optimism can't hurt. I'm now dead yet!" we both giggle slightly at this joke before he sits down next to me.
"So what'll you show the gamemakers in your private session?" he asks. There's an awkward tension as I strain my brain for something I'm talented at.
"I guess I'm good with a knife" I say. "Working with the butcher has really formed me into a knife skiller."
We sit in silence for a few moments before Theo finally succumbs to the elephant in the room. "So, do you think you can win?" he asks.
"Huh… Maybe. Maybe not. I mean, I'm good with a knife and I'm a fast runner, but there will probably be boys twice my size from the career districts, and girls who know ninety different ways to kill you with a rope. I don't really know where I stand. Not until I see the other tributes, at least."
Dalton clears his throat and speaks. "I have a surprise for you." He reaches into his worn down pocket and pulls out a small stone. All I can think is what is this?
All of the sudden, I'm back in kindergarten, playing outside on the old, well-worn playground. Most of the children were playing on the sidewalk or on the swings and the slides, but me and Theo were in the very corner of the fenced off area around the school. Behind that fence was a big pile of rocks. I'm sure that if the teachers would have seen us, we would have gotten in trouble, but the teachers weren't watching. So, we both jumped over the fence and collected them. "Isn't it funny how these can be so many different colors and different shapes and sizes, yet we still call them by the exact same name- rocks?" he said.
When playground time was over, Theo and I ran inside to grab two mason jars. We divided the rocks into two equal parts, and put half of the rocks in each jar. We each took our jars home with us. My jar has sat in my closet for nine years. Theo's has spent nine years on top of his nightstand. Either way, it's a sign of friendship between us.
I grab the stone from Theo. Roughly one inch in diameter; it looks flat enough to skip on top of a lake. Ridges cover its surface, and rust is building up in the corners. I can tell that it used to be grey, but it's turning a rusty red. It's rather beautiful.
"Thank you" is all I say, because what else is there to say, really? This is my only lifeline to the outside world while I'm in the arena.
"Do you think it'll be confiscated?" I ask him. I mean, some of the corners are quite sharp, and it could be construed as a weapon.
He shakes his head. "No, it's fine. They would only confiscate your token if it was, like, a dagger or something."
I imagine a new tribute waltzing into the Capitol with a knife in his pocket, and I giggle.
The door booms open and a peacekeeper announces that Theo's time with me is up.
"Bye, Theo! See you next month, maybe!" I yell jokingly.
"Bye, Colton. Good luck" he replies.
Once the peacekeepers leave, I lie on the pristine white sofa and savor the brief moment of silence.
Lauren Rudolphine is instructing the tributes on the train to the Capitol.
POV: Lauren Rudolphine (District 10 Mentor and Victor of the 81st Hunger Games)
"So, the very first thing that you need to know during the games is to spend most of your time surviving in the wild. What you definitely should not do is go around looking for other tributes to kill. People who do that end up being killed right away."
Both Amanda and Colton look nervous. I can see why. These two kids did not volunteer at their own free will. Instead, they were chosen by lottery and forced to volunteer.
"Also, get sponsors. I know it's kind of a given, but if you're starving and cold in the arena at night, some crackers, some matches, or even a jacket could mean the difference between your life and your death. Remember that you're never safe. Since it's a quarter quell, there's guaranteed to be surprises in every corner."
"Here's something to do during training. Try to go around and look at all of the other tributes. Evaluate your competition. Are there lots of kids who know how to use a spear? Then you should learn to use one so that you can defend yourself in case one of them attacks you. Are there lots of kids who know how to start a fire? Learn how to do that."
"I have a question," Amanda asks.
"Sure, dear."
"What's the best thing to do at the cornucopia?" she asks.
"Great question" I reply. "The best thing to do is, as soon as the gong goes off, to grab the closest thing to you and then dart away into the arena. It's too common for tributes from outlying districts to run into the very middle of the cornucopia. They almost always die. It's also way too common for tributes to run away instantly. No, no, no! Just grab the closest thing to you, and then get yourself out of there."
Amanda nods her head slowly.
"Training scores and betting odds. Training scores are a sponsor's primary method of determining which tributes are 'the best'. So, get a high one and sponsors will be tripping over each other to sponsor you. Get a low one, and you'll probably die."
"Of course, there are always exceptions. Ten years ago, a boy won by running towards the middle of the cornucopia and hiding until the careers were gone, then emerging and collecting the items. About thirty years ago, a boy who received a 3 in training won. Eighty years ago, a girl won by burying herself under a pile of leaves and mud, and then lying there with a flask of water for a week. This advice just goes for the average tribute. If, at any point, you think something might be a good idea that we didn't talk about, maybe we can discuss it and I'll make an exception."
"What are our odds of winning?" Colton asks.
"Well, naturally, your odds of winning would be about one in twenty-four. However, I'm sorry to say that District 10 has had four victors in the history of the Hunger Games, and I'm the only one still alive. That means that your odds of winning are about one in twenty five, or about four percent."
"So, we probably won't win, is what you're saying?" Amanda says, leaning on one arm.
Her sincerity leaves me slightly discomforted.
There's Amanda and Colton, the District 10 tributes. I literally just realized that I named two tributes Colton (Colton Chancler from District 2 and Colton Spears from District 10). Anyways, the reapings are drawing to a close! So, what do you think of the mayor's system of randomly selecting two kids and forcing them to volunteer? Note that this 'force people to volunteer' thing will occur for District 11's reapings as well. Please review and tell me what you think!
Tribute Profiles:
Name: Colton Spears
Gender: Male
District: 10
Age: 14
Social Class: Colton's family is middle class in District 10.
Tribute Token: Small Rock
Height: 64.3 inches
Weight: 108.6 pounds
Hair: Dirty Blond
Eyes: Blue
Likes: Music, Nice People
Dislikes: Rude People, Playing Outside
Goals/Ambitions: He's fourteen and doesn't really know where to go with his life.
Strengths: Fast Runner, Stealth, Good with a Knife
Weaknesses: Can't Swim, Can't Climb
Fears: Darkness
Attitude towards Death: He fears death somewhat.
Training for the Hunger Games: None
Reason for Volunteering: He was randomly selected by lottery and forced to volunteer.
Name: Amanda Boix
Gender: Female
District: 10
Age: 12
Social Class: Amanda's family is somewhat wealthy in District 10.
Tribute Token: Leather Bracelet given to her by her mother
Height: 61.9 inches
Weight: 100.0 pounds
Hair: Chesnut Brown, back in a ponytail
Eyes: Amber
Likes: Sleep
Dislikes: Spiders and Snakes
Goals/Ambitions: None, yet.
Strengths: Stealth, Slingshot
Weaknesses: Can't swim, Can't Climb, Young, Slow Runner
Fears: Failure
Attitude towards Death: It's got to come some day!
Training for the Hunger Games: None
Reason for Volunteering: She was randomly selected by lottery and forced to volunteer.
Published 7/9/17
