A/N Hello! I'm going to try to start updating at least twice a week. I've been seeing IVolunteerAsAuthor and his speed, and wow, I am inspired and challenged to write more. My goal is to update every Saturday morning and every Wednesday morning. If I don't, please don't hesitate to harass me over PM or email. I need this kind of push.
Also... I have not picked the next deaths. Why? Because DecidedlyDestiel had a great idea in her review. At this point, I'm sick of killing off all the tributes from my readers and leaving those without an active reader. So, tributes from inactive submitters will have an extra slip.
If your tribute is here, then I don't know if you are reading or not: Easton, Magique, Coil, Stream, James.
Thank you to Lady Lysa Arryn for being a new reviewer and follower, Libb23 for following, and WhiteMoon15 for favoriting. If you haven't read Chapter 3, all the info on choosing the victor is there.
This will be an unusual chapter. How? You'll see.
Agatha Thul, District One, 24 Years Old, Sister of Alexander Thul
I follow Triton through the double glass doors of Chanley's, one of the most expensive restaurants in District One. There aren't many, and only the rich can afford them, but Triton, well he has no problem. The first thing I notice is how the floor is covered in a lush carpet. Carpet! Not many people can afford the maintenance of a carpet. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling, the glass crystals scattering soft light. The tables are made of mahogany wood, and everything is unimaginably fancy. Not as fancy as the Capitol, but we'd never catch up to them in a million years. A girl leads us to our seats, and they're covered with silk. Silk. District One may make luxury, but we don't get much of it. I try my best to seem unimpressed, like he is.
"Ladies first," he says, pulling my chair out for me. I giggle and take it.
"Thank you," I say. He smiles. This guy won't be hard, and he actually seems decent, unlike some of those scum I've dated before.
The waitress gives us our menus. "What would you two like to drink?"
"A water will be fine, thank you," Triton says. Only a water? Shoot. Now I'll have to take one too. Scaring him away is no good.
"I'd like a water too," I say. He smiles. The waitress leaves us alone. "How is your job coming along?" I ask.
He takes his coat off and hangs it on the back of his chair. "I'm a lot busier now, so I haven't been able I see you as much, I sorry. But it isn't as bad as I thought. In a few years, the factory will be completely mine, and we'll have all the money in the world."
I giggle. "That's wonderful," I coo.
"It is. It's amazing, having so much power. But we came here to get away from everything back down in the city, not to talk about it more. How are you?"
"Oh, everything's wonderful! Everything is stable, and since business is a little slow sometimes, I find myself thinking about you," I say. He breaks into a large smile.
"How do you feel about your brother in the Games? Are you worried?" he says, concerned. I inwardly groan. Why is it always about Alexander. He wasn't all that great. He wasn't even great. I force a smile.
"I'm a little worried," I say. I am worried —that he'll come back as victor. "But I think he can take care of himself. My parents watch the games non-stop. I think they're hoping that he'll come back, but I don't understand why."
"What do you mean?."
"Both of them never cared about us growing up. They didn't spend time with us or even really talk to us. I don't see how the Games change anything."
"I'm sure they care about you," he says. The television in the corner lights up with more footage of the Games. It's currently on the two little boys, who are just looking for food. Nothing's happened since the two girls died yesterday. Maybe the Gamemakers will throw something at Alex and Easton. Mutts, storms, anything.
Just don't let him come home.
Bianca Gray, District Two, 14 Years Old, Sister of Easton Gray
The cameras switch to Alexander, and Kaya and I both sit up straight. If Alexander is there, Easton must be also. Both of them are wandering around the factories. We get to see everything they see—except, we also see where the traps are. I nearly scream as Easton barely misses a landmine the Five boy planted. The camera zooms out, and we see that the Six girl, is in a window five stories up. If she dropped some of the scrap metal in the room she's in, she could kill both of them. Thankfully, she doesn't, and she hides.
"Come on, time for dinner!" mom calls. Kay's sighs, and we leave for the dining room. Dad decides to keep watching. He was mad initially when Easton pulled the volunteer trick, but now he watches the television as if he can will Easton to come home. If only he could. We end up taking the food and going back to watch the Games.
All of a sudden, a program comes on. The Games must be getting boring. This is Day 7, and nothing's happened today. Claudius Templesmith begins to talk with Caesar Flickerman about the tributes. They start with Alexander, and they start to show his highlight reel. First is when he killed the Five girl. Then his fight with Chrystal. They discuss his family, and we discover that he has a sister. She must be proud of him.
They begin to talk about Easton, and Kaya squeals. They first talk about us, calling us his "lovely twin sisters." They even have pictures of us. Next they bring up dad and mom before showing his biggest moments. They quickly move through cutting the Twelve girl apart before beginning to show him tearing Chrystal apart. I look away.
This isn't the same Easton that played ball with Grant and the rest. This is someone else. I had never seen him like this before. Will he still be like this when he comes back? I'm afraid to even imagine what he might be like.
But still, he's our brother, and I desperately want him to come home.
Eragon Talis, District Three, 15 Years Old, Friend of Magique Dorsell
Following Geneva, we creep through the streets. In this area, it's under a curfew, so we could be shot on sight. We sidle along a wall and then roud a few corners before we reach the city square, where we are allowed to be. A relatively small crowd is gathered here, so Rixos, Geneva, and I fit right in. It's playing the highlight reel of the monster from Two and I look at the ground to avoid watching the ugly death of the One girl. They finish, and they start talking about Magique. Usually, Geneva would poke me and smile, but this is a serious time.
We haven't seen much of her since the beginning of the Games. Maybe we were just here at all the wrong times, but somehow or another, last time we saw her was when they faced the 8 pair. Then again, we've missed the past few nights because we couldn't get out of our sector of this city.
I look up just to see them bring up her history. I gasp. They've realized that she's a street girl. I wonder what Magique would feel. She didn't want anyone to know; she wanted people to see her as another person. They begin to show her major parts, starting from the attack on the Eights. Then they show the fight on the younger boys alliance, and then Magique following Coil, asking questions that don't get answered. That's surprising, she isn't one to be this nice. Coil holds up batteries and shows his plan...
And Magique walks away. Rixos stomps his foot down in anger, thinking that she's stupid. But inside, I know it was right. Coil wouldn't hesitate to kill her in her sleep. Leaving him was for the best. Maybe she can win. Maybe she can come back. There's so much I should've said in the Justice Building, and if she wins, I'll get a second chance. I'll tell her that we give every scrap of money we get to sponsor her. I'll tell her that her aunt has been taking care of us. But most of all, I'll tell her...
That I love her.
Marney Bolton, District Four, 15 Years Old, Sister of Larz Bolton
I gently knock on the front door. I hope they're home; it was hard enough getting out of my own house. Dad still seems to think that the Games are all that matter. Sirena opens the door, her face wet from weeping over Sariose.
"What do you want, Marney?" she says, "Sariose is gone. You can stay home and cheer for your Larz." I step in and give her a hug.
"I wanted to tell you how sorry I am," I say, "I know she was pretty much your sister, and I know that I'd feel the same way if Larz died. I'm not trying to rub it in, I'll cry with you."
She begins to cry again, and I can her the sadness and depression in her voice. I hug her tighter, and I cry with her. Eventually, we both begin to calm down.
"Thanks," she says, sniffling, "I'm sorry for earlier. I know you aren't the type to rub it in. It's just-"
"Don't apologize," I say, "It's all okay now." I look at the clock. "I should be going home now. My dad probably has noticed that I'm gone."
"Okay."
I open the door.
"Oh, Marney?"
"Yes?"
She takes a deep breath. "You're welcome here anytime."
I smile. "Thanks."
Bolt Faraday, District Five, 17 Years Old, Friend of Coil Ampar
Current is steaming by the time the highlight reel for Coil finishes. She stomps her foot down on the ground.
"Stupid, stupid, STUPID!" she says, "Who does he think he is now?"
"What do you expect him to do?" I say, "I think he's just being smart. He's trying to get out!"
"But he's playing their games! And he's killing! KILLING!"
"I hate the killing as much as you do. But that's how it works. Either he kills or gets killed."
"But-"
"Do you want him dead!?" I say.
"No!"
"Then stop it! He doesn't want to die either. He's just surviving. He wants to come back to District Five. He's killing to get back to us. What do you want?"
She collapses on the couch and buries her head in her hands. "I don't know what I want," she says, "I just don't know."
I watch her cry. "I don't know either."
She looks up at me. "I guess once you're in, you're stuck forever."
Arielle Wrena, District Six, 21 Years Old, Sister of Stream Wrena
I stare at the screen intently, hoping, willing Stream to live. I know that her winning is almost impossible, but it's possible. Is it? She has the food and supplies; no one's found her yet. She could make it, right?
Jessalyn walks over to me and sits on my lap. She's only 8; she doesn't understand everything. But even she knows the Stream is probably never coming back. She buries her head in my hair, and she just stays there hiding from everything. I pat her on the back.
"Will everything be alright?" she asks.
"Now I- I don't know," I confess, "Things are going to hurt. But one day, it'll be alright."
"What about Stream?"
I hesitate. "If she comes back, we'll all be happy. But if she doesn't... She'll be in a better place."
"Really?"
"Really."
The door opens, and my seventeen-year-old brother Festus walks in. He goes to the sink and washes his hands, rubbing the grime and the muck off.
"How's Stream?" he asks.
"Nothing's changed," I say, "She's still in that building."
He sighs. "I hate this."
"You and me both."
"She can make it, can't she?"
I look at him, and he understands that I'm wondering the same thing.
Can she?
Perry Hollis, District Seven, 49 Years Old, Father of Ellery Hollis
I swing the axe again and again, grunting. This is work, but it doubles as stress relief. First Allon. Now Ellery. Is our family cursed? People say to count your blessings. There's nothing to be thankful about. The tree topples, and more men move it to a truck that'll haul it to the lumber mills.
I feel a hand on my shoulder. I look back to see Silas, our foreman.
"What do you want?" I ask.
"Are you holding up fine?"
"Yes. Now if you excuse me, there are-"
"No, something's off. Why don't you go inside, take a cup of coffee, and just rest."
"No, I can't. I-"
"This is an order. It isn't right to force you to work while your second son in a deathmatch."
I throw my axe into the ground. "Fine."
"Oh, and my wife asked me to give you this." He holds out a loaf of bread.
"No, no, I couldn't take it. It's-"
"Please, take it. We don't have any use for it now."
I sigh. "Fine."
"And if you need anything, come find us."
I don't say a word. People do care.
"And don't be afraid to talk about it. You need to talk if you want to feel better."
I just nod. Maybe there are still blessings.
Thorne Farow, District Nine, 13 Years Old, Friend of Rye Miller
As I'm watching the television, my dad taps me on the shoulder.
"Thorne, you need to get out of the house."
"But what if Rye-"
"Don't worry about it. Watching will only scare you. Go outside. Hey some fresh air. You've been cooped up in here for a week."
"Fine," I say, shuffling my feet. I open the door and sit on the doorstep. The air is too muggy. Mosquitoes surround me, and I swat at them. The clouds are covering the sun. It's a horrible day. It begins to rain, and the dry dust mixes with the rain to create mud. Depressing. It begins to thunder. My dad open the door behind me.
"I'll stay out here," I say. He gets it and closes the door. The rain causes the mud to splatter, getting all over my jeans. Depressing. My dad won't be happy. Even that reminds me of Rye.
Suddenly, I remember what he used to say when it rained. "The sun is still there. Look on the bright side." He'd then look at the mud and say that the mud was perfect to play in. I reach down and splash in the mud. A faint smile reaches across my face. The sun is still here. Look on the bright side. Rye's still alive. Look on the bright side.
Nate Ramm, District Ten, 16 Years Old, Friend of James Armour
I'm done. I'm done crying and moping and locking myself in my room. I need to do something. I leave the house and wander the streets. I inevitably pass James' house and I notice that unlike all the other houses, no smoke is coming out of the chimney. They're not even cooking or making a fire. Depressed, I move on.
Soon, I find myself in the square, where the reaping was held. A red-haired girl is kneeling near the stage, trying to muffle her cries. I recognize her as Sadie's friend, so I walk over and place a hand on her shoulder. I don't ask if she's okay, because she's definitely not.
She gets up. "Who are you?" she says.
"I'm Nate Ramm. James' friend."
"Oh. My name's Ginger." She stares off into the distance. "I was just at Sadie's house. Her mother hasn't been doing anything. Barely eaten a thing because she doesn't have the motivation to cook."
"Same as James'," I say, "They haven't made a fire in a long time."
"I wish there was something we could do," she says.
"Me too."
She ponders it for a while before lighting up. "There is."
"What?"
She explains everything to me. I smile.
Ginger takes Sadie's street. I go to James' street and knock on the first door. A man opens it.
"Whatever you're selling, I don't want it," he says.
"I'm not selling anything, sir."
"Then why're you here."
"Well, as you know, James used to live just down the street."
"James as in the tribute?"
"Yes, sir."
"He was a fine young man. A little quiet, but polite and nice."
"Yes, I know, sir. That's why I'm here. You see, the Armour's haven't been active all week. No shopping. No cooking. Nothing."
"What's your point."
"I'm asking you, sir, if you're willing, to put some food or anything on their doorstep. That's all."
"I'll think about it."
"Thank you sir. Goodbye."
He closes the door. Next house.
-o-o-o-
A few hours later, I've covered all the nearby streets. I meet with Ginger in the town square. She's smiling.
"How'd it go?" I ask.
"Most people said they would."
"Same here."
"I told you we could do something."
A bell rings, announcing that mandatory viewing begins in half an hour.
"Well I'll see you then," I say. She nods.
As I jog home, I pass James' door again. I nearly trip from surprise. A huge overflowing pile of food, cards, and notes in there. The door opens, and I see Mrs. Armour gasp and almost scream. She calls Mr. Armour, and they begun to take in the food.
I move on, but I look back one more time.
Smoke is rising from their chimney.
A/N Now that was almost 3,000 words. You're welcome. Next chapter will be Day 8.
Don't forget to vote if you haven't (you can't vote on mobile), and don't forget to harass me if I don't update on Wednesday.
1. Which POV is your favorite? Why?
2. Which character is your favorite? Why?
3. Has this changed your view on any of the tributes? How?
4. Does this affect who you're rooting for?
5. Do you enjoy chapters like this?
Review Responses! Thank you to my reviewers!
Lady Lysa Arryn: I completely agree with you about Coil being Victor material. Who knows, it might happen. Thank you for beginning to read this!
DecidedlyDestiel: Thank you for that idea! I'm definitely using it.
santiago. poncini20: Yeah, Rye is fun. He'll be getting another POV soon.
Infamouskal420: Have you been the Guest that's reviewing? Both ways, I'm glad to see that you're back.
