Chapter 6: What Once Was

District Six Reaping

Jaeden Rota - District Six Male

"Life move's on and so should we,"

- Spencer Johnson

Family. That's what a child revolves around. A mother, a father, perhaps a sibling or three. Having the perfect family is what make's life bearable. It's what make's Panem into less of a shithole than it is. The idea of someone you love by blood alone can help ease a person. That is what the definition of family means. It's what I believed in for most of my life.

There is only so much time for a kid to stay naive. I love my family, and I can not hate my blood. For so long, I thought we were the ideal family. One that support's one another, that we understood one another.

It's human nature to be disappointed I suppose.

"Jaeden. Stop slouching, that's improper," my mother's stern voice ordered me. She was a thin woman, with undeserved wrinkles on her face but that has nothing to do with age. She has brown hair like most of my family, but she crops her hair into shoulder length. My mother is also a liar.

I straightened myself if only to get my mother off my back.

"Now, I want everyone dressed nicely as possible for the Reaping," my mother decided seemly, she looked at the dinner table where my family and I were eating breakfast. She turned to her husband, almost aggressively narrowing his eye's at him. "Isn't that right, Arthur?"

"Yes, it is Ruby," dad said in a civil-like manner, flinching at her tone. He's tall and has a big gut from all those years drinking. He went on to take a quick spoon of cereal and turned to the rest of us. "Kid's, listen to your mother. She has the right of it. The Capitol wants everyone to look there best in this day, and dressing with our usual work outfits won't do."

"I don't think we do," my older sister Sarai disagreed, "We don't have to dress up for an execution."

"That doesn't matter," Mom said instantly, not affected like the rest of the table when Sarai said that. "Looking nice is a requirement, it gives an impression at a rare chance, and Snow forbids if any of you get reaped that you'll all appear as if you didn't fall from the dumpster. There is a reason for this Sarai."

My oldest sister clenches her teeth, also not willing to start an argument like me, "Fine."

"HA!" Kaylin, my other older sister. Unlike the rest of the family, she isn't tall or a brunette, she was blonde from my grandmother's genes. She also isn't the nicest person. "What's there to complain about, stop acting like Jaeden and wear a blouse, Sara. It won't kill you."

"Not like you would understand," the oldest of the Rota children insisted, having an attentive glare at her.

Sarai has these moments where she disagrees with the Hunger Games. Not that it's a bad thing, but the Hunger Games is a part of life, why fight it? What can some decent workshop owner's and their kid's do about it?

All Kaylin did was snort. "Whatever," she noticed our dad leaving from the dinner table. "Dad, you forgot your car keys."

"Ah. Sorry," dad apologies. He went back and picked up his car keys, going to his workshop.

I sighed. "Dad, you forgot your wallet."

Arthur went back, scratching his head and got that. "Right. Thank's Jaeden."

I didn't look at him, I just went back to my meal.

"Have a good day, Ruby," dad mentions.

"You too, Arthur," mom said back.

Civil. That's how is it. Mom's a liar, pretending that we don't know about her cancer. Dad, well, he's a cheater. He cheated on mom, he cheated on a perfect family and made that image garbage. Both of them don't even share the same room anymore, and it's sad. So very sad. The only reason the two didn't get a divorce is that it would ruin the family financially.

It was much better years ago. This change is horrible. It's unfair.

Once the door closed, I stared hatefully at it. Dad ruined something precious, and I can't wonder if he's noticed that.

Kaylin looked outside the window, "Your loser friends are outside, you want me to call them?"

I didn't like that, but neither did I say anything. Kaylin was always a bit bitter since she's the middle child, and she wants to be the youngest here since she remembers how our parent's used to spoil me a lot back then. Saira came up with a remark, "At least he has friends. So don't be bitch Kaylin. This type of day is where friends are needed."

The younger sister scowled, but mom interrupted before argument arrived. "If Jaeden's friends are here that means the Reaping is getting closer, so get dressed now. And I do mean now."

"Yes, mom," I said, more relieved than I should have shown. I need to leave this house.

I went to change quickly, getting a loose plain blue shirt and old denim pant's tied up usually by shoelaces paired with brown lace-up industrial steel-toed boots. Not too formal, but I agree with Sarai that the Reaping doesn't need anything fancy.

When I stepped outside my home, I see my two friends. The next best family a guy can get. They already see me.

"Hey man, guess what happened yesterday?" Mordi, a dark-skinned slightly older boy with an ugly bowl haircut, told me.

"What is it?" I asked, honestly curious.

"The school exploded! I mean, you can't tell me that you didn't hear about that!" Mordi exclaimed.

I shook my head, widening my eye's a little, "This is new's to me. What the hell happened?"

"Some dumbass was messing with far too much shit and blew up nearly a quarter of a school. The end," my other friend Lancia stressed, she had jet black hair and freckles on her face. "I heard this shit far too many time's bowl-cut, let's just get some fucking cake before the goddam Reaping starts."

Lancia is a bit vulgar, but she's honest.

Rubbing his bowl hair cut, Mordi laughed positively. "Hey, don't mess with the hair. It's my prized possession."

Mordi is also honest, and possible the easygoing person I know. He never takes offense to anything.

"You look like you're wearing a fucking pot on your head, you desperately need a haircut Mord," Lancia exclaimed.

The other friend smirked, "No I don't. I'm perfect just the way I am."

"Keep telling yourself that," I deadpanned. "So, about that school. Do you know who did it?"

"Beat's me," Lancia shrugged, an action that was followed by Mordi. "But who cares, honestly. Not like any of us weren't going to become mechanics anyway?"

That's the hard truth right there. I secure in my future if and when dad and mom are ever going to get a divorce by taking over the family workshop when they retire, but transportation is the District Six gig, and the Capitol is trying their hardest on not giving many other's a different career choice. Sarai work's as a cashier for three workshop's including the family's, she's hardworking like that, and she does it for the family. Sarai is pretty much the only family member I can tolerate.

"Was anyone hurt?" I asked.

"A few teachers. The explosion happened a couple of hours after school. No kids were hurt, thank Snow," Mordi said seriously.

"Yeah, now those fucking kid's has a chance to go to the Reaping. Dam shame," Lancia concluded before snarling. "Can we go get some fucking ice cream now?!"

And we did that. Mordi suggested it yesterday and thought it would be a good idea. I don't ever believe any of us are going to get Reaped, but Mordi kept saying that ice cream should be the last meal before the Reaping starts. Lancia and I agreed. I appreciate blunt people, those who speak there mind, and Lancia and Mordi are just that.

I had worse 'friends' before them when I was stupider. My family(mostly Sarai) taught me better on how to avoid certain crowds that egg an old guy's home. Mordi and I met in class one day, he came with me to the workshop, I liked spending time with him, and we became friends. Lancia family work's with my dad, and, well, Lancia didn't get along with other girls due to her vulgarity and love for cars. She fit in with me, and Mordi well.

Three pairs of mechanic's becoming friends, I frecking love it.

"I welcome Falcon Kwah to District Six!" the mayor cried out in front of the crowd.

I hate the Reaping, however. So does everyone else around me. All these line's of children in the area, the atmosphere is always rigid at best.

A skinny looking capitolite went where the mayor was standing. The guy had a nasty sneer on his ugly thin face, looking down on us. His outfit is white, his tie is black. An opposite colored business suit if you can imagine. "Let the Hunger Game's begin," he said coldly. He said nothing more and moved on with the girl's glass bowl full of paper.

"Moira Balise."

I sighed in relief that it wasn't Lancia. Oh yeah, and my sister Kaylin. Sarai is twenty, thankfully, and I don't have to worry about her.

A girl from the sixteen-year-old line came up front. She's short, pale skin, brown eyes, and straight dark brown hair. At least nine out of ten girls cry when they get picked, but that's what stand's about her. She isn't crying or even all that shocked. She walked up with this stoic look on her face. A bit unnatural honestly.

At least it wasn't anyone I know, I thought selfishly.

Next was the boy's bowl, wonder who the sucker is going to be?

"Jaeden Rota."

Shock. Lot's of it.

I can't move my legs. My vision became blurry, either by some tears or something else. I can't- I couldn't believe it.

Peacekeepers were moving forward, but I think Mordi punched on, then he got on the ground. The Peacekeeper's brought me to the platform.

"To the District Six tributes: Moira Balise and Jaeden Rota. May the odd's ever be in their favor," Falcon announced cruelly. God, my mind is still fuzzy. I can't believe it, but I have to.

"Shut up," I managed to mumble. Falcon glared at me.

I had to shack hands with Moira, who looked at me with pity. Neither of us said anything to one another when the Peacekeeper's brought us to the Justice Building.

Kaylin came first, surprisingly.

"Don't die," she said and hugged me.

"What? No insults," I commented, a little out of breath.

Kaylin glared at me. "I think there's something a little more important."

"Right. Any advice."

"Yeah. Don't die."

"Really?"

"What else did you want from me? I'm not an expert. Do something impressive I guess? Maybe? Just don't die."

She hugged me one last time and left. Then came Sarai and my parents.

They took turn's in the hugging, everyone's eyes were wet.

"Here," my dad offered a small box, it said the "Rota Family" on it. "Keep it. It's your token."

I looked at it. "Thanks," I said emotionally.

A thought appeared in my head. I looked at my short haired mom, "You know, if I win, we might have enough money to cure your cancer."

"What cancer?" she lied, even now. "Jaeden, we need to-

Sarai shook her head, "Mom shut it. He figured it out," she looked at me softly. "You can make it. You know that. Do you? Lay low, your good with electronics. Find a weapon or something. It'll be tough, but you'll pull through it."

The only thing I could do is agree, so I nodded. One more I looked at my imperfect family before they left. So perfect, we had a picnic in a broken railway one time, everyone smiled. Where is that? Nowhere, I thought.

Next came Lancia and Mordi.

"Mord? You're an idiot," I told him, pointing at my face. My friend's whole face was bruised.

Mordi had the gall to laugh at that, not a good laugh like he alway's had. "Yeah. Not the best of idea's, I'll admit," he sighed. "This won't end well. Will it?"

"Nah, don't fucking think so. I mean, Jaeden's tall, but he's not as muscular as the career's or any experience in weapons at all," Lancia observed. "He's kinda fucked."

"So much faith," I jested lightheartedly, they're honestly at least made me smile halfway. "I do have a chance, you know."

"Possibly."

I grimaced at her tone and gulped nervously. "Take care guys."

"You too, Jae. You too," Mordi said, making a fist bump which I happily returned.

I first bumped Lancia next, and she said, "Don't fuck up. We'll miss you."

They left then.

Now what?

How do I survive?

I'll stick to my gut, I thought stubbornly.

Moira Balise - District Six Female

I looked at those wooden carving's, they disgusted me.

It's late. The class I'm in is one with machines and tools. It's used by the auto club sometimes, and sometimes it's used by the whittling club. I'm in both of those clubs. It's not that I have any friends in this school, I don't like to people. I do not like being heard by anyone, and no one in this school knows me. No bully is after me, and no one is interested in me.

It's just me and my hobbies. It's the way my life move's on, and I certainly appreciate it.

It's the day before the Reaping. I was in the mech room filled with all sort's of tools and machines. Student's here do woodcraft as well.

There was this project we were supposed to be doing, and it was to carve out President Chamber action figures. I hated that, I don't hate much, but the Capitol I do hate. So Chamber's narcissism is spreading a lot when people paint black hair and cold grey eyes on some piece of wood people got.

Sometimes, I stay late at school. For my hobbies, to test machines, and I can whittle wooden knives.

I looked back at the door, seeing that no one was entering the classroom, I looked left or right. Good. There's no one here. The janitor already cleaned the room, and it's a teacher meeting today.

Standing up from my desk, I moved to the shelf where the class 'projects' were placed. Different size's and different form's of the beloved president was here, all made by the hands of students. I picked out mine, the best looking one, it resembled the president the most with his black business suit and his dark eyes which I deceptively made it look like he was afraid.

I cut off the head of the wooden ornament swiftly with my knife I used to make it.

"Accomplished my little goal," I relished my words. "Now, onward's to the alibi."

What I did wasn't illegal, but it most certainly is an act of aggression. I don't need anyone listing me for being a possible rebel.

I promised a teacher I'd fix his blender in the teacher facility room, I'll say that the accident happened with my 'project' and it split in half when it fell to the ground. One other option is I blame the janitor. That could work too. I believe there is a higher percent chance of the janitor idea working out.

The electronic hobby was my brother's, then I got into it. Both of us had joy from working together and building something. I remember vividly when both of us laughed when an old DVD player somehow got on fire.

That was before James got reaped into the Hunger Games seven years ago. He didn't make it back. I don't laugh as often now.

Once I fixed that blender, I went out of that crappy school. It took a lot of rewiring and replugging. I mean, everything was a mess, these teachers suck at gadgets which embarrasses me a little since everyone worth their salt should know how a fix things. We are District Six for crying out loud.

"BOOM!"

A loud noise was heard. I turned my head from behind and saw the fire. The school was on fire. It was on fire!

"Wow. Close call," I blinked at that. Was I second's away from dying?

"Better question. Is this my fault?"

Did the blender do all this? I mean, the some of the wires connected to the other's were quite fragile. Maybe? Perhaps I overloaded that cheap generator which made a chain reaction that blew up part of the school.

No. The chances of that happening are below ten percent.

I didn't stay long. Being near an explosion is not a priority, going back home to my simple parents are. If anyone died, it would be a shame. I feel sadness, but not overly much of it. I don't like people, and this is one reason I distance from them, so I don't feel misery after they die. The feeling of losing someone is worse like it was with James. Why would I want to suffer?

They had his death on a giant screen. Everyone saw James drown, once he died no one remembered his name. We never got his body back seeing that it's somewhere in the middle of the ocean.

"MOIRA!" a familiar young voice broke me out of my sad thoughts.

I see my younger brother Max looking bright as ever at the front of the house.

"Hey, Max," I gave my brother a tidy smile as I patted his light brown head.

"I made a picture of you and mom and dad," Max said excitingly. "It's colored!"

He then took out a badly drawn picture out of his backpack and put it up to my face. I hid my disgust. The drawing is as expected of a nine-year-old, so I'd best stay polite. "The quality of your drawing superb. You should continue improving, however."

Max took that as praise as smiled proudly. What a child, I thought.

"Dad's here again. He doesn't come home this early," Max whispered as if it's a secret. It's not as if that's a secret.

I shook my head. My father must've lost his job. I was expecting this, his technique in mechanics is to put bluntly, quite pathetic.

"Don't worry about it," I insisted before changing the subject. "So what happened in school?"

Better I ask him the question before he asks me.

"The teacher smell's funny," Max commented, noise twitching adorably at the memory. I almost chuckled. Almost. He made other fun little statements about what happened before we opened the door to our house.

Dad was on the couch, frowning and looking miserable. My father looked up when he saw us, and he was forcing himself to smile, "Hey, kiddo's."

I nodded and thought of something. "Dad. Do you need some coffee?"

"I would love some, sweetheart."

Should I have told him that I knew this was going to happen? Perhaps I should have. I knew of his lack of skill's in the District Six department was lacking, and I don't know if he knew it. There was one other reason I tried to stay unremarkable in school, and that was so I won't upstage my parents. A lot of people shun them for their poor abilities in the Autoworks. Let's say my parents aren't the most confident of people and I didn't want to make it worse.

I finished the coffee and passed it to dad, "Here. Warm and calming."

Dad took a sip, his kind dark eye's losing a small bit of its despair. "Thank you, Moira."

It was something at least.

I forced a smile, hoping it would be of little help.

I could finally take a job, I randomly thought.

"Dad! Look at this picture!" Max screamed out, and my little brother preoccupied father from his dark thoughts unknowingly. Good Max, he's better at cheering up the mood than I'll ever be. Dad is more interested in his younger son's story and laughed brightly.

Seeing this display warm's my heart. Thinking clearly, my father's banishment from his job is a temporary thing. He'll get a new one, it won't be easy, but he'll find one someday.

Looking up, I see an old photograph on the wall. One with James, and me when I was nine. What a bright smile I had back then, it matches Max. The Reaping is tomorrow, and there is hope that Max won't suffer having an older sibling being taken away from him.

"Moira Balise."

I blinked.

Well, that's unfortunate. Being reaped for the Hunger Games, that is. In front of me are a platform, a skinny escort named Falcon Kwah, and fellow children of District Six looking around for me.

Something else is on my mind at the moment. It was how could I be reaped? It was more out of curiosity than anguish people feel when something like this happens. I mean, what are the chances? One in a hundred thousand. Was it random or was it rigged?

Walking forward was the only option, the other option of running away is not possible.

The skeleton looking man is known as Falcon Kwah had an ugly sneer on his hairless face. He doesn't want to be here, and he's disappointed by me, possibly thinking I'm a bloodbath tribute. I would glare at him, but I can not blame him for making such a short-sighted assumption, I am small and physically unprepared for a life or death game. What I do have is my brain and my talent with technology. I have a better chance than most if I play my card's right.

Falcon called out the boy's name. "Jaeden Rota."

The reaction was an interesting one this year. A six-foot boy from the fifteen-year-old line came up, with a shocked expression on his face. This Jaeden Rota had brown hair and of average build. When a peacekeeper tried to get him, a boy with a bowl haircut punched the peacekeeper, which made an unexpected but stupid fight. The bowl hair cut boy was beaten back predictable, and a peacekeeper took Jaeden by the arm and lead him to the stage.

"To the District Six tributes: Moira Balise and Jaeden Rota. May the odd's ever be in their favor."

"Shut up," Jaeden had grumbled after Falcon announced, which made our escort glare at him. His entrance was one of rebellion, and Jaeden will have a harder chance at winning. He's moody, but to be fair, he was reaped right at this moment. I imagine he is nicer when he's not in such a stressful situation.

After a handshake, and some poor attempt of cheering, us tributes are lead to the Justice Building.

"Not you! Not again!" my mother sobbed on me, holding me close. "First James and now you! This is horrible!"

I hugged her as well, unsure of what else to do.

"I-I brought y-you something, Moira," my kind old dad said, handing me my token.

I inspected the token, and I was almost about to cry as well. It was a broken pocket watch. It was James.

"Didn't James have this in the arena?" I asked them.

"T-that was all of James they could've found in that damn arena," father growled, and looked back at me. "Sorry I cussed in you sweetheart. I- it's just that-"

"I get it," I said gently. "Thank's mom. Thanks, dad."

The crying went on until they had to leave.

Max came up to me sadly. "Does this mean you're not coming back?"

"I don't know Max," I said sadly.

"But you know everything. You made blueprint's for flying motorcycles and stuff," he argued, starting to weep as well.

"That was never going to happen," I told him, half-lying. Helecarrier technology is a hard thing to point out. I'm almost positive that reconstructing is possible in making flying cars.

I forced a smile. "Max, you're going to do fine. Do your school efficiently. Be the best in class, and tell amazing stories. Do you think you think you can do that?"

"Maybe... Yep, I can!" he said instantly. I'm not certain how much he understands, but soon enough he'll know. I wish for Max to have a better future for himself.

Soon enough, I might join our older brother. There is that chance.

A/N: YOOHOO! District SIX! First off, I must thank G00N and AGirlAndHerWildideas for moody Jaeden Rota and the explosive Moira Balise! I like to think the family here is better than the usual I'm getting, or at least Moira is. Ha! These guys.

To the reviewers, I thank curiousclove, that one ace popsicle stick, Emberlex, 20, XC-Nerd, Disctrict5Ravenclaw, and DefoNotAFangirl. You guy's fuel me and my characters. As for the rest of the readers, they are not the only ones who can review readers! So, please. Review or something. I'll look forward to anything you guy's post.

Why not answer these two question's I'm giving out, huh? I will ask them again when I finish all the Reapings.

Who's the best character so far?

Who's the worst character so far?

- AlexFalTon. Thank you for reading.