Bridgette Kerin, 16, D7F, Before the Reapings
"Bridgette!" my mom calls down to me, "we need to get ready so we have time to go to the hospital." I shrug off my pale blue blanket clomp down the stairs to go eat breakfast. My mom has some toast and some jelly out, so I slather some on and scarf it down. I run back upstairs, because I only have ten minutes to get ready before our hospital appointment at 9:00 and rush into my bathroom to get ready. I pull on the dress my mum has laid out for me, a knee-length black cotton dress that I've had since I was fourteen. It really fits the situation.
My best friend, Penelope, was hospitalized yesterday for an illness that is undetermined. Since then, she's been in an almost dazed state, seeming to come in and out of life. I shudder as I remember visiting her last night. Every memory I've had with her, she's been strong, brave, protective, and full of energy. When I visited her… she looked dead. And not just physically dead, but mentally dead too, like there were no sparks in her at all. It was one of the worst sights of my life.
"Almost done Bridgette?" My mom calls, slightly on edge for some reason.
"Yep, almost." I call back. I usually don't wear much makeup, because I always sweat it off while working up in the trees, but there isn't work today, so I decide it's a good idea today. I don't wear any concealer or foundation, but I really don't need any. Instead, I put eyelashes and eyeliner on, and the look really suits my outfit. I slick my hair back into a low bun, and seeing that it would be a good time, I decide to wear my silk black gloves too.
"HURRY UP." My mom yells at me, and I jump a bit at the harsh tone, but the yelling works, and I scurry out of my room and into the living room, where my mom and brother are. "We are going to take Brayden with us to the hospital, 'cause we're going straight to the Reapings afterward." With a stab of unwanted pity, I glance over at my 12 year old brother, who seems to be trembling in fear.
"Hey, Brayden, your name is only in once," I pause in the middle of my small speech, remembering that my name is in nine times, because I took a couple tesserae, but then clear my voice and continue, "And, I guess if you do get Reaped, at least you will get to see the Capital."
I'm not much of a pep talker. That's more Penelope's thing. Just as that thought passes through my head, my mom and brother start walking forward, heading for the hospital. The hospital. I remember hearing the doctors talking last night, saying that they don't know if she will make it. I don't even want to picture my life without her. "Are you ready, sweetie?" my mom whispers. I look up and realize that we are almost at the hospital.
"I'm fine," I murmur back, "and don't call me sweetie, please. I'm sixteen now." She nods and we walk into the dingy white walls of the hospital. We are lucky we get an okay hospital, and that we are not like District 12, which I think doesn't even have a hospital. I overhear my mom whispering quietly to the receptionist.
"Yes, Penelope is in room 6, down the hall and to your left," she instructs us. With murmured thank yous and Brayden waving to her, we head down the hall to Penelope. When we open her door, I see that she is propped up on some pillows, and that she is awake.
I run over to her and grasped her hand. "Penelope! You're awake!" I exclaim.
"Yes, I am," she replied cheerily. "I am feeling much better, which still isn't a lot," she trails off.
"Hey calm down. At least you don't have to go to the Reapings today," I say with a shiver of fear.
"You won't get Reaped." Penelope says reassuringly. "There's like, a 1% chance, if even that, really." What Penelope said wasn't really any more reassuring than anything that my parents haven't said to me, but somehow whenever she says something to me, I believe it a lot more.
"I have a secret to tell you." Penelope says to me, but her face doesn't look thrilled or excited or happy about the secret, even though I can tell she's trying to seem like that. Knowing what Penelope meant, my mom grabs Brayden and exits the room with a sweet smile towards my friend.
I can't tell if I should be sad or happy about this secret, so I settle on slightly terrified. I kneel next to her bed and smile up at her, even though I know I'm scared. I grab her cold hand, and look up at her expectantly. She winces a bit before taking a deep breath and starting. "The doctors don't think I'll make it. I wasn't supposed to hear, but they think my time ends this Thursday."
I know this was a possibility, but hearing it come from the ever-positive, kind, funny, Penelope, it felt even more heartbreaking. I'm not an emotional person most of the time, but I can feel warm tears spring up in my eyes, and I don't wipe them away. "You're strong Penelope. I know for a fact that if anyone can beat this, it's you. And you know I'll be there for you the whole time." All of my limbs go cold as an image pops up in my mind of Penelope lying lifeless in a wooden coffin. I physically shake it away.
"I'll try." Penelope says halfheartedly. Before I get the chance to console her, she erupts in a fit of coughing, and not being a doctor, all I can do is sit back and watch it happen. "I don't want to die." Penelope's face curls up and she starts sobbing. Of course, this makes me cry too.
"You won't!" I begin, hugging her tightly. "You can't die. I know you'll-" I am interrupted by my mother bursting through the door. She notices that it's probably a bad time, but that doesn't start her from softly saying, "It's time to go." Brayden looks horrified seeing my tear stained face, as I've always kept a brave face no matter what.
I wipe away any tears on my face and nod at her. I then turn to Penelope and put that brave face up again and say, "After the Reapings, I promise I'll bring you some of the really good food, and we can have a feast."
I muster my best attempt at a smile, and it seems to work. Penelope perks up at least a little bit and I hug her one last time and she says, "Deal." I nod hastily at her and wave dramatically as I leave her room. Just as I close the door behind me, I hear her muffled crying again. A part of me wants to rip my heart out at the sound, but another part of me tells me to stay strong for her, if she really only gets a few more days. I decide to try to follow the latter.
"I'm sorry sweetie." My mom says comfortingly to me as we exit the door. I don't bother correcting her calling me sweetie, and I even give her a hug. At least my day can't possibly get any worse.
Johanna Mason, 39, Mentor, Reaping Ceremony
"Happy Reaping Day, Johanna!" exclaims our escort, Hestia Miri with one of the biggest, whitest smiles I have ever seen.
"Yeah, Happy Reaping Day," I respond with a scowl. I hate our escort. If I could, I would push her off a cliff with my ax buried deep into her skull. That's how much I hate her. She is just so unbearably happy, even when she is about to pick two kids to send to their deaths. The old escort, Geminye Alevra was much more bearable than this ball of sunshine. I mean, of course, she didn't care that a bunch of teenagers died in a bloody arena every year, but at least she had the sensibility not to act so prideful and joyful about the whole ordeal.
Hestia on the other hand, thought the whole idea of the Hunger Games should be an honor for the districts. But how would she know what it's like to have to kill other minors just so you could have a chance at living, seeing your family again? I try to shove away the memory of my family, the last memory I had of them before they were slaughtered, because of a stubborn mistake I made against the president. If I could have known he would have killed them, I probably would have made many different decisions.
"Ooh, it's a little warm today." Hestia grimaces. I roll my eyes. It's her fault for wearing a fur lined trench coat in the middle of the summer. As I take my seat, the old geezer or a mayor hobbles up to the microphone. He starts his annual speech, blah blah blah. Next, we move on to Snow's speech. When his face pops up, he looks horrible. Like, worse than a shriveled up grape that wasn't completely ripe when it was picked. And for that, I am happy. He deserves it. Every bit of suffering he will ever get, he deserves. Whenever I see that face… Suddenly Hestia is tapping on the microphone to calm everyone down.
"All right, let's do the boys first," She walks over to the big glass bowl and swirls around her hand. "This year's male tribute representing District 7 is Ian Boo!" A boy from the 14-year-old section immediately pops out of his section and starts walking confidently up to the stage. Woah. I am surprised to see that he doesn't look scared at all. I even notice he winks at Hestia as he takes his place on the stage. Nothing I notice about him looks special, but Hestia erupts in a flutter of giggles. Charisma is always a positive for sponsors. I didn't, and still don't have much charisma, but this kid looks like some charisma would probably do him good.
Once Hestia's giggling fit is over, she rubs her gloved hands together and struts over to the bowl opposite of the male one, and picks a white piece of paper that was hidden at the bottom of the glass container. She unfolds the paper and nods and clicks her heels as she reads the name in her mind. She leans into the microphone and announces with another bright smile, "And for the girls, we have Bridgette Kerin!"
My eyes dart across the Square, but no one moves,at least for a few seconds. After a bit of scanning, I notice the girls in the 16 year old section gazing remorsefully at a girl with brown hair wearing a black dress. I don't recognize the girl, but she looks like she definitely went a few shades paler than before. She doesn't look at any of the faces that are turned to her and takes a small breath and walks out of her row. I can tell by the way she is holding her hands behind her back that they are shaking ferociously, but she doesn't want anyone to see she's scared.
Looking down at the ground the whole way, Bridgette makes her way up to the stage while inhaling sharply every few seconds. I notice she's taller than the male tribute, Ian, but she still looks more agile than him, more fast. To me it looks like the one who is more nervous has a higher chance to win than the one who is confident.
But it's best not to make assumptions, on first appearance. I remind myself. Clearly that didn't work out for anyone whose face met my ax in the arena. The girl, Bridgette, looks up for the first time, and I notice her face seems to be streaked with tears. Hm. Maybe she isn't victor material. I also spare a glance at Ian. He gives off uncanny vibes similar to Finnick, which is beneficial, seeing that he is to this day the youngest victor. Then I look at Bridgette again. Bridgette doesn't quite seem like any other victor I can put my finger on. Maybe, maybe she will be something different. Her own victor.
Sympathy is always something I wish I could give the tributes. They, just like all of the thousands of other kids, don't deserve to go into an arena to kill kids. But sympathy has never been my thing. Ever. So if I can't give these tributes sympathy, I think. Then I'm gonna give them all my effort to help them survive.
Ian Boo, 14, D7M, After the Reapings
The peacekeepers lead me to the room where I am supposed to say my goodbyes. Why do they even bother? I know I am going to win. Even though I am only fourteen, I will become the youngest victor ever. I am technically three months younger than Finnick Odair was when he won, so there. I mean, I'm not happy about being reaped, but now I will be able to prove myself to my idiot brother and stupid parents. I bet they won't even come say goodbye.
I let my thoughts wander, and they settle on the other people I will be facing in the arena. I only know one of them, this Bridgette girl. She seems weak. She was crying, or at least she was before the Reapings. The only thing that she has against me is that she is taller and possibly more agile. Still an easy kill, though. The Careers will be the hardest in the arena. I will have to make a trap probably. I feel like I could kill them one by one but it's just easier to be safe. Ew. I sound like my brother. I think to myself, promising that I will never sound so uptight or cautious again. Now it's my turn to show them who's in charge.
Hi again! Welcome to District 7! We were able to get this one out super quickly because we had a lot of time yesterday, so you get it early! We are hoping to finish the reapings by next Friday, May 21st, if not earlier. Also, I am maybe going to make a blog! Finally, how did you like Bridgette and Ian? See you in DIstrict 8!