The Voting

They can't be serious! They can't be serious!

Those words repeated in his head over and over again. Would they really make parents choose which of their kids should die?

Of course, they would. That's so like the Capitol! After all, we're just slaves and entertainment for them to watch while they gorge themselves on the food we should be getting!

Three months. That was how long they had before the voting results would be announced, and the unfortunate kids with the most votes would be shipped off to the Capitol to be prepared for the slaughter.

"See, Tyler Boy, this is why you should lay low."

He was sure that he'd receive quite a decent amount of votes, being rather unliked by most in the district for his thievery. Plus, not having parents means not having to feel guilty for sending their child to the arena.

Over the next couple of months, an area in the Justice Building was set up for the voting. Most people seemed to be putting off the vote as late as they could although you would occasionally see someone come and go from the Justice Building, head shifting side to side before entering or exiting.

July was creeping up on everyone sooner than they'd expected, and soon there was only one week left before the Reaping, and there were constant reminders from Peacekeepers to vote by July 4th, or there may be repercussions.

Tyler hadn't stolen anything since the apple incident, and the scars on his back did plenty to remind him of what would happen if he's caught again. If he wasn't given the death penalty flat out.

On the first of July, the pressure to vote was increasing significantly. Peacekeepers would go door to door asking if the residents had voted already. One incident involved a father of three assaulting a peacekeeper for allegedly implying it might be possible his six-year-old daughter could make history as the youngest tribute ever.

Tyler highly doubted the Capitol would change the rules that much, but the outburst left the man's wife and children in mourning. The man's hanging was two days ago.

A knocking on his door gave him a start; he's eighteen, surely peacekeepers wouldn't be knocking on his door to see if he voted? The voting was for those nineteen and older...

Opening his door nervously, he was greeted not by the sight of a white peacekeeper uniform but of a small messy-haired boy of around eight years old.

"Cliff? What are you doing here?"

Cliff was a boy from the Seam who he would often entertain while school was out and his parents were both busy working. They would usually give him a spare coin or two for his troubles. He liked the money, and Cliff enjoyed hanging out with him, so it was a deal that benefited everyone.

The small boy puffed up his chest, "You haven't come to see me for months!"

"Heh, sorry. Times have been hard, little guy." Tyler moved aside and closed the door behind Cliff, who plopped down on Tyler's cot. "Why are you here? Isn't your mother at home?"

"Yeah, but I missed you!" Cliff sat up and made a frowning face. "Why have you been so busy?"

Tyler laughed at that, "You know I'm eighteen now, right?"

The boy nodded.

"That means I have less free time now, what with working in the mines and all..."

"I heard from dad that you haven't been in the mines for weeks," he narrowed his big grey eyes, "what's your excuse?"

Tyler paused at that, wondering how much the boy's father had said. "I was on... a different job for a while." He wasn't sure Cliff would buy that. There are not many reasons why someone who works in the mines would be working anywhere else, but he'd rather avoid telling him about the whipping. The scars on his back burnt with a ghost pain at the thought of it.

"Oh... okay." Cliff made a frowning face then seemed to brighten up a little, "But you're free now. Can we play?" He asked, bouncing a little.

With a short laugh, Tyler agreed.

They spent the next couple of hours wrestling (which Tyler almost always let him win) and playing Hide and Seek across The Seam.

As night quickly started to engulf the district, making it too dark to continue, Tyler walked Cliff home where he found a few extra coins delivered in his hands by the boy's mother.

Promising to visit him in a couple of days, Tyler walked home feeling better than he had for the last few months.

The morning of The Reaping promised a cloudy and depressing day. As usual, the mines were shut down for the day, and everyone had the morning to spend with their families.

At noon, all the children of the district were escorted to the Town Square, the parents, and older siblings watching from the side, anxiously hoping that their child would be spared.

Tyler was among the group of eighteen-year-olds positioned near the front of the Square. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Cliff beside his mother, waving to him. Giving a smile in his direction, Tyler attempted to look carefree while he waited for the Reaping to begin, hoping that the fear he was feeling didn't show too much on his face.

This was the last Reaping he would have to be a part of. If he could just get through this, he'd be free from the games. At least until he had children of his own.

On a stage erected in front of the Justice Building the newly positioned mayor of District 12 was shifting through the cards that he was to read for the Reaping's conclusion.

After several minutes, he placed the cards neatly in his pocket and approached the microphone.

"Happy Hunger Games... and may the odds... be ever in your..." he paused to glance nervously around the Square, "favor."

"Everyone just stared blankly at him until he gave a cough and straightened up. "This year things have been done differently," a peacekeeper approached him carrying two envelopes on a black pillow, "the tributes of this Hunger Games have already been selected." He continued, raising up one of the envelopes.

The already silent courtyard became so still you could have heard a pinfall.

"This year's female tribute..." The mayor's hands shook as he broke the Capitol seal and unfolded the parchment, "As voted by the citizens of District 12, this year's female tribute... is Daizee Brightwood..."

There was no crying or sounds of mourning as a young girl emerged from a group of thirteen-year-olds, her long dark brown hair blowing quietly in the wind.

Probably a Home kid. Wait!

Something about that last name sounded familiar... It took him several seconds to pin it.

That's the new Home girl!

Mr. and Mrs. Brightwood had both been executed six months ago.

Mrs. Brightwood had been caught stealing food for her family multiple times, and for that, she was put to death, her husband beside her for failing to report her crimes.

The young girl before him had tears silently pouring down her face, dark circles under her eyes showing she hadn't slept much the previous night.

Why would she have been voted for?

He was sure that Home kids would receive most of the votes, but why her in particular?

His question seemed to be answered as the girl sneezed and wiped her nose with her forearm.

Is she sick?

As he pondered this, the mayor raised up the other envelope.

Tyler's heart began beating loudly as his eyes focused on that tiny piece of parchment, dreading to hear who's name was on it.

His worst fears were realized as the mayor called out his name.