We'll never get free
Lamb to the slaughter
What you gon' do
When there's blood in the water?
Daniel Muller
District 7, Male, 18
(9 months Prior the Reaping)
...
The stairs creak under my footsteps as I make my way downstairs, I'm careful not to make a sound as I know my Father is most likely passed out on the couch and I want to make sure he can rest. There's little time for him to rest within his tight schedule of drinking and binge eating, he's opened up to me about the nightmares that trouble his sleep but only once. He doesn't like talking to me about my Mother's death so he doesn't remind himself of it but I know it's all he thinks about.
As I slip on my tattered nylon coat, I hear a few groans from the other room. "Woke me up." My father grunts as he stumbles his way out of the kitchen - which he'd passed out in - and puts his hand on my shoulder. "My head..."
"That's what happens when you drink." I say sternly, although I love my father, I don't like his alcohol addiction and the way he has reacted to my Mother's death. He's been like this for as long as I can remember, he stopped working when I was 12 and began his alcohol addiction. However, for as long as I've known my father, he's never had one happy day. You would think after 18 years, he'd be able to pull himself together but he still hasn't.
"You know I can't stop." He mutters back.
"I know you don't try." I wish he'd pull himself together but it's a wish that will likely never come true. I can face that though, I know life isn't a fairy tale. That ideal has practically brought me up, given me my sense of individuality. "I'm going to the market, rest."
"Whiskey." He orders. I know his alcohol addiction is hard to control but so is my temper, however, I pull it together. I'd do anything for him, he is my father after all. Probably the only person in this world who loves me and the only person in this world that I love. I open the door and walk through it without another word. It looks like I'll have to up my progress at work to ensure I can pay off the money for all this alcohol as well as life necessities.
I take myself along the trail that leads from my house to the market, living in an area of poverty means we live fairly far from the district centre (approximately 10 minutes) but I usually make daily trips to get some fresh air and occasionally buy necessities. As I approach the market, I see 2 teenage boys leaning against the bakery and sniffing white powder. Drugs have always been a problem in District 7 and I've made sure to stay clear of them, luckily my father is too poor to afford any and therefore dismisses them too.
I recognise one of the figures as Gideon, someone who works in lumber with me, and another must be one of his friends. Gideon locks eyes with me as I walk past and sneers. "Your dad couldn't make it today? Too busy drinking himself to death I assume." He mocks and I can feel my emotions switch to sudden and complete anger.
"What did you just say to me Gideon?" I snap, walking slowly toward him. I'm around 6 inches taller and tower over him, easily creating fear in him.
"What are you going to do? Your whole family is so weak that your mother died giving birth to you." He joked, starting to walk away. My face becomes a bright red scarlet colour filled with anger and, without thinking, I grab Gideon by his neck and pin him against the wall.
"Never say a goddamn thing about my parents!" I scream into his face and he struggles to get out of my grasp. For a second, I think I should stop but the anger overrides the sympathy and I smash his head right into the wall behind him. By then, a crowd has gathered and I let go of him, he quivers on the ground whimpering and crying as blood drips down his face.
I wipe the sweat from my forehead and push myself out of the crowds and back into the market, I glance over at the scene a couple of times and see a few people attempting to pick him up but most just stand and watch. Not that I expected anything less, this District is a place full of sick people and that's that, not like there's anything I can do about it.
"What can I get for you today, Sir?"
"A bottle of whiskey, thanks."
Ashanti Nia Jelani
District 7, Female, 15
(Reaping Day)
...
I stumble down my stairs, wiping sleep from my eyes. I know what day it is and I'm dreading it, not only because I have a chance of being reaped but also because I have to put up with the nightmare that is my family.
"Ashanti, come sit, come sit!" My mother cries as I reach the kitchen, it's nothing much, a table and a couple of shelves - as well as on oven and a refrigerator. My family all sit around the table where a big feast lies in front of them, I sigh, my family always spends all of our work money on this feast and it's starting to really annoy me when it's not a necessity.
I take a seat, like my mother asked, and grab my usual bowl of porridge, it's cold and flavourless but I can make do with it.
"Now, now, you all know we have to say our prayers before we eat. Especially today!" My Dad says and it is obviously pointed at me. The rest of my family holds hands but, as my brother reached out for my hand, I didn't take it and kept my arms crossed against my chest.
"Ashanti..." My mother starts but I don't let her finish.
"You are celebrating a day that murdered my brother! Your own son!" I scream at them, standing up suddenly and causing my chair to fall over. My face has turned a deep shade of red and I'm clearly infuriated.
Three years ago, my brother was reaped for the 20th Hunger Games, his name was Taj and he meant the world to me. When he was reaped, I told him I knew he could win but I always knew otherwise and when Onyx Spindle plunged their dagger into his heart, all my fear and worry had come true.
"Your brother made a noble sacrifice to Panem, Ashanti! We are very proud of him." My father shouts back sternly. My family have always been avid Capitol-supporters.
"I'll see you all after the reaping." I mutter as I slip on some black slippers as shoes and storm out of the door. This is how a lot of the days go, I scream, they scream, I leave and I always come back. There is nowhere else for me to go then back home and that's just the reality I've chosen to face.
I walk for around fifteen minutes before I make it to the reaping. I am slightly early but fingers are already being pricked so I get in line to wait, eventually, the Peacekeeper pricks my finger and I walk my way over to where I'm supposed to be. The area soon starts swarming with people as the clock gets closer to nine am and it isn't long before the Reaping begins. Our escort is a woman that clearly loves all things pink, pink hair, pink clothing, even pink eye contacts.
"Hello District 7! My name is Aysha Joyce and I am just completely honoured to be your mentor." For some reason, Ashya begins tearing up and looks around at us all like we are lost puppies. "Truly, truly honoured. Now, let me introduce your mentors, District 7 here is..." She pauses and wipes some tears from her eyes. "Eamonn Birch and Stephan Broadley!" The crowd erupts in applause but I just stand and stare. Eamonn Birch won the 3rd Hunger Games which I wasn't alive to see, Stephan won the 21st, the year after my brother died. I was experiencing a lot of hate for The Hunger Games while watching the 21st and that hate still remains in my blood now.
"Now, now, settle down. It's time to pick our female tribute!" Aysha takes the bowl from the right and digs her hand in, she picks several but they 'don't feel right' so she puts them back in and chooses another. Finally, after that process is continued for another 6 minutes, she find a slip that feels right and begins to read it out. "Ashanti...Nia...Jelani!" She announces and I feel a scream erupt from my body.
"You take my brother, now you take me too?" I scream and I notice Peacekeepers starting to make their way toward me. "I can walk up to the stage myself, thanks." I snap at them and shove my middle finger in their face before walking up to the stage. I feel the surge of my blood boiling inside of me and it takes every bone in the body to stop myself from punching them.
"Well, that was interesting. Now let's get to our male tribute!" She then plucks a piece of paper from the left bowl and breathes in with her nose. "This feels right." She says and opens the paper to read it. "Daniel Muller!" The cameras point to a stern boy, standing stiffly, he holds a straight face and is very well collected as he walks up to the stage - the complete opposite of my reaction.
"Here we are! Our tribute from District 7: Daniel Muller and Ashanti Jelani!" She cries a final time before taking our hands and leading us into the Justice Building. The final thing I see before I enter the building is the smiling faces of my family staring back at me.
A/N: Sorry for so many updates haha, I've been waiting a while or get back to writing this and I'm having a lot of fun so why not just pump all these chapters out. Thank you to wiifan2002 for Daniel and TacoPhoenix88 for Ashanti! As always, I really appreciate you submitting them to me. Questions:
What do you think of Daniel? Of Ashanti?
Who do you think are potential allies for them?
Are either of them winning material?
- Neb