Hudson Frank, 14, D3M, Before the Reapings
I am woken up, not by an alarm or my parents, but by my little sister jumping on me. "Ella what the heck," I murmur sleepily, "go away. I need to sleep."
"Mommy said to wake you up for the reapings." She protests. The Reapings, I think. I'm not tired anymore. That feeling of butterflies and a headache, feeling nauseous, and trembling, is all coming back to me. I start swaying in my bed. "Hudson are you okay?" my sister asks.
"Yeah, I am fine," I say in a shaky voice, even though I know I am lying to myself, and to Ella. "Why don't you go downstairs and get something for breakfast?"
"Okay!" she shouts up at me, already running down the stairs. I get out of bed, hating myself for how my legs tremble. I slowly make my way downstairs and into the living room, where I sit on our brown threadbare couch and wait for my mom to bring me breakfast. We have this tradition where every Reaping Day, my mom or dad brings me breakfast and we get to have one last really good meal before the scariest time of year starts.
This year my mom is making french toast, pancakes, and even bacon. "It's almost ready Hudson. Grab your sister." She says to me.
"She's already down here," I answer nonchalantly.
"Oh. Alright, your breakfast is ready I'm bringing it out now." My mom told me excitedly. Only one out of the like five plates drops in the process of her getting the food to me. "Here you go!" On the plates in front of me was the best meal I've seen all year. The french toast is fluffy and the syrup is the perfect consistency. The pancakes are perfectly circular and the aroma of them already pleased my nose. The bacon. District Three isn't a poor district but compared to the two districts we are squashed between, we aren't really all that rich, so seeing bacon is a pretty rare thing.
Disregarding all manners, I scarf down all my food. Within a matter of a few minutes, all the food on my plate is gone. "Your dad told me that Byte is gonna come here so you two can walk to the Reapings. That works out perfectly if you don't want us to come. You won't get picked but if you do, Byte can rush over to tell us. We can't get a babysitter for Ella but I don't want to have to bring her to this."
I groan. Byte is probably the single most annoying person on this Earth. And he definitely has mental issues. "Okay," I say because I really don't want my mom at the Reapings. I trudge up the stairs and put on a pair of blue trousers and a white shirt. I then tried going back to the kitchen but then got a lecture from my mom about combing my hair, so I went back and did that.
Just on time, I hear a knock on the door. Sure enough, it's Byte. "Hi." He says awkwardly, looking at my mom. Before my mom can get the chance to try to hug me or something, I walk out the door.
"Aren't you excited? I'm so excited. I think my chances of getting picked are pretty high this year because my dad told me to put in tesserae, so I think my name is in 7 or 8 times." Byte said in a hurry like he always did.
"Do you like, want to get Reaped?" I ask slightly concerned.
"Dad and Polly think it would be good for me. I agree. Think about how many friends I will have if I can win something like this. That would be awesome."
I would ask who Polly is, but he always brought up a made-up person in all of our conversations, so I just nod.
"Don't you want to get Reaped? I bet you would have more friends too. Plus you would get to kill people. You always say how you want to kill me under your breath. Now you would get the chance to kill!" More often than not, Byte asks more than one question at once and I don't know how to respond.
"Yeah, but there is a 23 in 24 chance that you die. That really doesn't sound fun." I answer to his last exclamation.
Completely ignoring my response, he looks ahead and sees the crowd of people and Peacekeepers. "Yeah well think about it. Polly says she hopes you get reaped. She knows you will win. She knows you have the fight and determination, and you are smarter than anyone would care to think." Byte's words stick with me for the rest of the ceremony and I wonder if what he said is true. "Well good luck." He tells me, going in a different direction than me. I go toward the nearest gate where the peacekeepers are checking people in. As I join a line this twelve or thirteen-year-old girl cuts in front of me, panting heavily. I look around to see who she might be running from. I spot three peacekeepers about twenty feet away from me scanning the crowd. Should I wave them over? I think. Suddenly I remember something that happened two years ago.
It was a normal day. Nothing bad was supposed to happen. But something did happen. He didn't know she was running. If he did, he wouldn't have helped her. It was so sudden. His bullet-ridden body, my scream, and the realization that life would never be the same. This memory came rushing back, and I sick out my arm and call the peacekeepers over. They grab the girl and drag her away, kicking and screaming. The peacekeeper stabs my finger, but I don't feel the pain and don't realize I am walking until I bump into someone. Did I just condemn someone to death? I push the thought out of my mind and focus on the task in front of me, getting through the reapings. I see our most recent victor up on the stage. What did she have to do to get where she is now? Does she regret it? Did she kill anyone? Does she think about it every day? More and more questions swirl inside of me, which makes me sort of want to be reaped so I can ask them. I guess I forgot about the "24 go in, 1 comes out" thing. I catch Byte's, eye and he gives me a thumbs up. It could mean good luck or I hope you get reaped. I think it is the former.
She knows you have the fight and determination, and you are smarter than anyone would care to think. Very true. Very true.
Pixie Ravence, 22, Mentor, Reaping Ceremony
"Happy Birthday Pixie!" The District Three Escort, Loreanne, excitedly told me. What a great day to celebrate my birthday, by watching 1 if not 2 kids get chosen to die. Loreanne made me a little crown for my birthday, but I decided that would be pretty insensitive. It's been my fifth year mentoring, and honestly, I don't get how people like Brutus and Haymitch could possibly be doing this for several decades. Personally, I think I would rather go into the arena than let a pair of poor kids that I have known for a week go in and die.
Isn't it great that even my birthday was ruined by the Capitol? "Here, Pixie go ahead and sit down. We are going to get started." With nerves tensing up in my body, I nod and sit down.
"Happy Hunger Games District Three!" Loreanne yelled into the microphone, causing everyone to jump. "We have a nice little video from the president that we would like you to see."
I sighed and looked up at the projected screen above me. There stood old, wrinkly President Snow, in his office. As he sat in his chair, he spoke about the War, from the Capitol's perspective of course. Apparently, about twenty years ago, there was talk of a rebellion. I'm not sure why it stopped but I know if I were old enough, I would have definitely joined it.
Once the video is over Loreanne claps her hands. I almost feel sorry for her. She is so brainwashed and blinded by the Capitol and there is nothing she or anyone can do about it.
As she walks over to the boy's bowl she announces clearly, "May the odds be ever in your favor." I look over at the sea of boys and notice that most of them look like they are trying to cover up that they're scared. A small thought in my mind thinks of my district partner, and his brutal death, but I shove it out of my head.
Before I even realize she picked a name already she announces, "Hudson Frank!" My eyes swerve around the younger kids, hoping it's not one of them. I hear a loud gasp from the 14-year-old section. It's a short boy with glasses. He looks kind of excited though. Is it him? He isn't moving. I then realize it isn't him when I see another boy from the 14-year-old section walk up the aisle. The other boy starts cheering when he sees him walk up the aisle. What's his problem? I think to myself.
The kid walking up seems less scared and more excited, even though he doesn't exactly strike me as the strong athletic type. Well, I suppose that means I don't have to feel as sorry for him. "You are Hudson?" Loreanne asks the boy, who nods in return.
"Wonderful. Now for the girls." She reaches her bony hand into the bowl and finds a slip of paper and announces, "Grace Ellen!"
For a few seconds nothing happens, then a dark-haired girl in the 15-year-old section giggles nervously. In denial maybe? She eventually walks up the aisle with no real expression on her face. She doesn't seem to be terrified or happy or nervous or anything. Just there.
"A hand for Grace?" Loreanne asks the crowd. Surprisingly, quite a few people clap. I can't quite tell anything about her. No assumptions or anything come to my mind. Hmm. We will have to see about her. If there is anything I know about unreadable tributes, it's that they are not to be underestimated.
Grace Ellen, 15, D3F, After the Reapings
My best friend Lillian is the first to come to visit me after I get reaped. She burst in through the door, looking like she had to fight a few Peacekeepers to get in here. Now she could win the Hunger Games. I think to myself.
Lillian didn't say anything at first, just stood there, looking slightly angry at me. Normally she wouldn't be at such a loss for words but somehow this was different. "You have to win." She said softly.
I nod, tears starting to brim in my eyes as the realization downs on me that I probably won't. "I will try, but if I don't you ha-"
"No, just shut up. You have to. I don't care how many people you have to kill but please. You have to win." Lillian's voice cracked at the end.
I wipe away the tear coming from my eye after she says this. "I can't kill people, Lily," I say softly. "I- I just can't" The thought of actually murdering someone shakes me to the core.
"I know you think you can't but in that arena, it's kill or be killed. When it really comes down to it you are going to kill. I'm not saying you have to be like a career and chase people, but in self-defense, you have to." She tells me.
I nod again, even though I don't think what she says is really true. A Peacekeeper slams the door open and grabs Lillian. "Times up." He mutters.
"Please, Grace. You have to win. I'll be with you the whole time. Just win." This is the last that Lillian said because the Peacekeeper drags her away.
I expect my parents to come in, but oddly, I wait for what seems like an hour and no one else comes in. Strange…
Hi guys it's leaf again! Welcome to District three! This was fun to write with Hudson's tragic backstory and it being the first non-career district. How did you like Grace and Hudson? District 4 will be up sometime next week, and if we can, D5 will also be up next week. Review, follow, and fav!