Juliet Niscent, age 12
District Eight Female
Juliet didn't have a good feeling walking into the square.
Instead of just one paper, she had eight due to all the tesserae she had to take out. Eight. Already, the odds were not in her favor. And as she caught sight of the girls' glass ball, the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach intensified. Seeing the ball was one thing. Knowing her name was in there was another.
Juliet signed in and shuffled to the back where all the twelve year olds stood. Last night, her parents told her that the first reaping was the worst. But it was also the one where she was safest. They tried to drill that into her mind. Gazing at all the slips in the reaping balls, Juliet wanted to agree. But the eight with her own name stuck out.
Eight slips. Twelve years old. Death was afoot.
Death hung in the air, hovered over the square.
Some of the girls around her were already crying. Juliet wanted to, too. She wondered if this was how Samantha felt last year. If she felt the same burning behind her eyes that Juliet did now. If she thought about how her chances of being reaped were too high for a younger kid. Eighteen slips at age thirteen made Samantha too close to becoming a tribute.
And then she became one.
Juliet had to watch her sister be paraded around the Capitol, dolled up and smiling to the crowds who wanted to watch her die. Samantha played up the angle of a protective older sister of five siblings, which the Capitol ate up. So young, but already so mature. They loved her.
But that love couldn't save her. A monstrous girl from One smashed Samantha's head against one of the pedestals during the bloodbath, giving her a slow, painful death. And by the time Samantha had died, she was unrecognizable, a mess of blood and broken bones and shredded tissue.
The coffin stayed sealed shut when it arrived back in Eight.
Microphone feedback filled the square, bringing Juliet back to the present. The district escort, a tall woman named Vanity, smiled out over the square. "Happy Hunger Games, District Eight! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" Vanity made a short speech about her love for District Eight, then dove right in. She strutted over to the girls' reaping ball, dug her hand into the papers, and triumphantly pulled one out.
"District Eight, your female representative is…" Vanity unfolded the paper, pausing for dramatics. The sick feeling in Juliet's gut twisted tighter. Please don't be me. "Miss Juliet Niscent! Where is Juliet?"
She wondered if Samantha had felt the same fear coursing through Juliet right now.
Sylvester Pin, age 15
District Eight Male
Sylvester fiddled with the paper his grandfather had given him before the reaping. He glanced down, off to the side. Anywhere but the little girl being brought up to the stage. Sylvester couldn't help but feel bad for her. That girl wasn't going to survive.
He smoothed out the paper, reading the next line. What has to be broken before you can use it? Sylvester furrowed his brows. Riddles might have been tricky, but he welcomed the distraction. Now more than ever. So he had his grandfather write down some of his favorites that he hadn't told Sylvester yet.
What has to be broken before you can use it?
Sylvester's mind circled around the cryptic words, trying to find the answer. Could it be an object? An abstract idea? A person even? The thought made Sylvester glance upwards at the stage, where the twelve year old tribute, Juliet, stood. Where Vanity, peppy as ever, stood, trying to speak to the girl. District children had to be broken before they could be used for the Capitol's entertainment.
But the answer to the riddle wouldn't be that dark. They never were, it was just Sylvester's imagination at play.
Then, all at once, the answer struck him. An egg. Just like the ones he had for breakfast before heading to the square, the shell cracked open in order to get to the delicious insides. He grinned in victory, then moved on to the next riddle. What is full of holes but still holds water?
A sponge.
What gets bigger when more is taken away?
A hole.
What has lakes with no water, mountains with no stone, and cities with no buildings?
That one made Sylvester bite his lip in concentration. The arena could have any of the above. Capitol technology could make any of that possible. But again, he didn't think that the arena was the answer to the riddle. The reaping had him on edge, had him thinking of darker themes.
He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice the crowd parting around him until a Peacekeeper wrapped a hand around his bicep.
"Oh, there you are, Sylvester," Vanity trilled, smiling warmly. "Come join Miss Juliet as a representative for District Eight in this year's Hunger Games!"
Juliet Niscent, age 12
District Eight Female
The first thing Juliet said to her family when they entered was "I'm gonna die." A few tears slipped down her cheeks as the words came out of her mouth. Her mother practically tripped over herself to reach Juliet.
"No, no you won't, sweetie," she crooned, rocking Juliet back and forth. "You'll be okay, I promise."
But Juliet's sobbing siblings being held by her father were telling a different story. Her youngest brother, seven year old Nyall, shook with the force of his cries. The first Games he watched last year took his oldest sister. His next Games would take another.
I'm gonna die.
Eleven year old Willa detached herself from their father's arms and rushed over to Juliet. "Just run," she begged. "Don't go into the bloodbath, just run. Please."
"And maybe you can win," Brody said, hope written blatantly across his face. Juliet pursed her lips, looking at her brother. I can't win.
"Maybe," she told him instead. But she couldn't win. Juliet knew that. In ninety five years of the Hunger Games, no twelve year old had ever won. Why would she be the exception? It would make her inevitable death easier to accept, easier to swallow.
I'm gonna die.
Juliet's other sister, Millie, wrapped her arms around Juliet's waist. "You'll try, won't you?"
"Of course." What's the point of trying? I'm not coming back.
Her father finally crossed the room to Juliet, and hugged her. "I love you, Juliet," he whispered. "Try to come back to us. Please."
She could hear the tiredness in his voice. After having this same conversation one year ago with another daughter who stood no chance of returning, Juliet didn't blame him for the hopelessness. She felt it, too, and she was the one about to die in a week.
The Peacekeeper entered the room, telling them that their time was up. Juliet's entire family clung to her, her siblings crying and her parents simultaneously shushing them and saying their final goodbyes to Juliet. Her ears filled with "I love you" and "please win" and "try to come back." Then her family was taken from her and Juliet was left alone.
The tears started again. Juliet wiped her face and turned to the small window overlooking the square. District Eight was going about business as usual, the reaping pens and camera crews gone. People hurried from shop to shop in the square, others just walking with friends and family since they had the rest of the day off. But tomorrow they would have to return to the textile factories.
But not Juliet. She would be in the Capitol tomorrow.
Juliet got her final glimpses of District Eight before the Peacekeeper told her it was time to go.
Sylvester Pin, age 15
District Eight Male
What has lakes with no water, mountains with no stone, and cities with no buildings? A map. Maps showed everything, but they had nothing. Just paper and strokes of ink to bring a world to life.
Just like the Games. District children, the swipe of a sword, and blood spilled in the arena.
Stop it, Sylvester.
But he couldn't stop. The only thing he could think of was the Hunger Games, the arena, the other tributes. The only thing running through his mind was his crippling fear. And the riddles weren't helping. He could barely comprehend the words on the paper. So he was glad when the door opened and his grandfather came in.
"Sylvester, my boy," he said, kneeling down next to Sylvester. He walked right into his grandfather's arms, tears pricking at his eyes. He knew his grandfather was on the verge of tears, too. An accident at one of the factories years ago had killed Sylvester's parents, leaving him to live with his grandparents. And then two years ago, his grandmother had died from illness. Sylvester was all his grandfather had left in the district.
And now he could be taken, too.
"I don't wanna die," Sylvester murmured, his voice beginning to waver from the tears building up. His grandfather squeezed him tight.
"You won't," he promised. "You're the smartest kid I know. You'll be able to figure it out."
"But…"
"No," his grandfather said firmly. "I know you can do it. It doesn't matter what you have to do in that arena, you're coming back to Eight." He let go of Sylvester, reaching for the paper with the riddles. "Let me see that. I'll write some more for you to do when you're in the Capitol."
Sylvester handed it over, and his grandfather found a pen on the desk in the corner of the room. "How many more do you know?"
His grandfather chuckled softly. "When you've been around as long as I have, you learn quite a few."
I hope I get to live that long.
"And this can be your token, right?" his grandfather was saying. "If you bring it into the Games with you, I want to make sure you have enough."
"I think I'll be worried about not dying in the arena."
"Well, a little brain teaser never hurt anybody, right?"
"I guess not," Sylvester admitted. But he couldn't help but think about the reaping when he hadn't even noticed his name was called. If he let himself get distracted like that during the Games, he would be dead for sure.
The door opened again, this time revealing a Peacekeeper. Sylvester's grandfather handed him the paper back, and said, "I love you, kid. Good luck out there." He left without a fight and the door clicked shut.
Sylvester glanced at the paper, reading the first new riddle written at the top.
What is always in front of you but can't be seen?
Sorry for the longer wait for this chapter. I got hit with a major case of writer's block and school and sports got a little crazy this week. Anyways, here's District Eight! I hope you all liked Juliet and Sylvester. As always, let me know what you thought! See you next time in my favorite district, District Nine!
-D9T