Chapter 2: A Complex Creation
Della Akuna, 15
District Three Female
I don't understand how someone could think this was a good idea.
And I can't fathom why my father would help make this idea a reality. This evening, after the Reaping, he will be making the trip to the Capitol in order to help them with the Hunger Games. He was hired to help them figure out the technological aspects of how to create an arena, and he's been working for weeks on this. During the rebellion, my parents supported the Capitol, just as a good amount of people in Three did. And when they were looking for some of the greatest minds in Panem, despite their hatred of us, they came to our district to ask for our help. My father volunteered and we've been living luxuriously ever since. But I can't stand the fact that he's helping them kill innocent children. I think the whole thing is completely insane.
Despite wishing that my father had any other job but this, today and today only I am thankful. I don't think the Capitol would send the daughter of a gamemaker into the games. It wouldn't make sense. The Capitol is completely exempt from this whole thing and my father works directly with them. Even after all of his work, if I were to be picked for this death pageant, I'd be extremely angry. They've already made my father assist them, so they can't just make me risk my life too. That would be ridiculous. Overall, going into today I feel fairly safe, but the thought of having to fight for my life freaks me out.
I look in the mirror and admire my beautiful lilac dress. It's fancy, probably nicer than what some of the other children will be wearing. We're somewhat well-off compared to most of the families in District Three, and I suppose I have my father to thank for our wealth, even if I disapprove of the way he earned it. I step into shoes that match my outfit and place my black hair behind my ears. I find some mascara that I wear on special occasions and elongate my eyelashes, showing off my dark eyes. I hear a knock at my door and I open it as my sister Maeve offers me a kind smile.
"Hey Della, can you zip me up?" She turns around as her beige dress spins, and I do as she asked me to. She's too old to be Reaped today, she turned twenty-two a few weeks ago.
"I like this dress. Is it new?" I ask her. I have a pretty good memory and I've never seen this one before.
"Yeah, I just bought it. And don't worry about today at all. There's so many girls in District Three, there's no way that it's going to be your name pulled out of the bowl. There's hundreds, maybe even thousands of names-" she always rambles when she's nervous.
"I'll be fine, Maeve. Stop freaking out," I say as I interrupt my sister. I've always understood her well. We head downstairs to and eat a quick breakfast with my parents. They've always been the early risers of the family. On days I don't have school, I usually wake up after eleven.
"You're leaving for the Capitol today, right Dad?" Maeve asks.
"Yes I am, two hours after the Reaping," he responds to her. I'm still shocked that he's really going through with this. My own father, helping orchestrate the deaths of twenty-three children. How could he?
"What's the arena going to be like?" I ask my father, my eyes not moving from my breakfast.
"I'm afraid that's classified information, sweetheart," I sigh, trying not to snap at him on Reaping Day.
"Oh can't you tell us? I'm sure you're working on something very creative," Mom responds to him.
"You'll just have to wait and see with the rest of Panem. Let's make our way to the Town Square once you're all ready," I guess he noticed our plates are all empty.
Once we arrive at the Reaping, my stomach starts to churn with nerves. I start to calculate my odds of being picked, and although the chance is small, it's not zero. I could still be the one who is chosen despite the chance being barely anything.
"Don't worry Della, the Capitol wouldn't send you into the games, not with me being a gamemaker. Kyla and Zane are on line, why don't you join them?"
"Good luck Honey," my mother says. I wave goodbye as I walk into the line. I see a young boy in front of me and he looks like he is crying.
"Is everything okay?" I ask him, trying to be kind.
"I'm just nervous, that's all," he says, sniffling a little.
"You'll be alright. Once the Reaping is over you'll be back with your family in no time, I promise," he seems to perk up a little, and I just hope what I'm saying is correct.
"Thanks," he says, wiping his tears away.
"You're welcome," I say. It is his turn to check in with the peacekeepers. I hear the boy whimper when he gets his blood taken. He is then sent into the section for twelve year old boys and it is my turn.
"Name?" A girl with wavy red hair says in a high pitched voice.
"Della Akuna," she flips to the second page in the book, which I conclude is in alphabetical order, and finds my name.
"Dominant hand?" I can see she's been doing this all morning, she looks tired and bored of repeating herself.
"Left," I say as she pricks my finger and I make a fingerprint next to my name as I saw the others do before me. She indicates for me to go to the fifteen year old girl's section.
I quickly find a place next to my friend Kyla that I know from school.
"Hey Della! Are you as ready for this to be over as I am?"
"I couldn't be more ready," I respond as she smiles at me.
"Did you see Zane earlier? I didn't get to wish him luck," she says, feeling a little guilty. It's making me feel the same way.
"Nope. Hopefully we'll all be fine though," Hope is all I have right now.
"Yeah. Who do you think it's going to be?" She asks me. I didn't really think about that.
"I don't know, I just hope it's someone who can come home," I say. At least one of the people Reaped on stage today will never see District Three again.
"Me too," Kyla pulls down her dress that is slightly too short. Whoever gets Reaped, I just wish they don't die painfully.
How is my father okay with children dying painful deaths?
Xavier Fabre, 17
District Three Male
I wish I could just sit here all day.
The computer lab in the Public Library is one of my favorite places to be. It's normally pretty empty, and I like it best that way. I'm the best at coding in a quiet environment, and I'm not the biggest fan of socializing. If today wasn't Reaping Day I would probably stay here, perfectly content to code in my own little corner of District Three. But instead, I have to worry about having to fight for my life, ending twenty three other's hopes at the same thing in the process. I don't know what kind of person could even come up with the thought of ending children's lives for something they didn't cause. I head home to my family, trying to forget my worries of being Reaped.
I sit down at the table with the rest of my family. My oldest brother Elon and his fiancée have moved in together, and my other brothers Trae and Breccan are too old to be eligible for these games. My mother places the fruits at the center of the table, letting each of us pick our favorites. She already knew that I was going to chose the apple, Trae would pick the banana, and Breccan would take the pear. That left her with the orange, her favorite fruit herself. I don't remember much about my father, he died when I was a two, so my brain had not developed enough by that age to form any memories with him. All I know is that despite his mental disorders, my mother loved him dearly. Sometimes she says I look like him, my dark hair and hazel eyes resemble what I've seen of him in pictures.
"Are Elon and Joy coming by after the Reaping?" Breccan asks Mom. Joy is a nice girl, and together she and my brother are saving up for their wedding. It should be in about a year or so.
"Yes, we're all going to have dinner together this evening. Is there a girl you'd be interested in bringing Trae?" My mother asks. She's been wanting him to find someone for a long time.
"Not yet," from what I've observed he hasn't been interested in anyone lately. Mom wants him to find someone just as Elon did, but I don't think Trae is looking for a girlfriend right now. Breccan has dated a few girls but it's never anything serious.
Me on the other hand, I'd rather be alone. I've always been more of an introvert. I don't really have any friends, let alone anyone I'd like to date. Even when I'm partnered up with someone for a school project, I don't talk much, I just do what I'm supposed to and help them if needed. Being at the top of my class, I'm often a kid that people want to work with, but merely because of my brain and nothing more. Sometimes in these situations the more popular students take advantage of me, but I don't really mind. It's not going to hurt me to help them, so why not? Though if they were to do their own work their knowledge might expand a bit more, I don't mind helping struggling students.
We discover that it is a bit of a windy morning as we head to the Town Square. I'm following my brothers' lead on how to get there, as I've only been a few times for school related things. I remember it being absolutely humongous, and almost intimidating. I'm sure it could easily fit all the residents of District Three into it without it even being that crowded or camped. Though I'm fearful of this Reaping, my chances of being the boy that is chosen are only a decimal of a percent, so I try not to worry too much about it.
"There's nothing to be afraid of. Do you see how many boys there are here?" Trae is probably thinking the same thing that I am - I've never seen this many people all at once in my entire life.
"He's right. You'll be fine," Breccan echos the opinion of our older brother. They are both making me feel more confident that the odds of being Reaped are very slim.
"Unless of course you aren't," Trae tells me, his eyes widening for dramatic effect. They're trying to make me afraid and it's quite obvious.
"Yeah. You could be a murderer in a few weeks. You never know," says Breccan, scaring me to the core. I don't want to be a killer or anything of the sort. I just want to be a normal boy who codes the day away at the library.
"Boys, stop. You're being ridiculous. Xavier is not going to be picked, stop trying to scare him. Don't you see how afraid you're making him?" My mother has always defended me in the presence of mockery from my brothers.
"Sorry, we were just trying to be funny, that's all," Breccan looks at me and I can tell his apology is sincere, as is Trae's.
"It's alright," I respond, not really sure what else to say.
"You'll be okay baby," my mother says as she hugs me tightly. I really hope that she's right.
I get to the front of the line I was waiting on and the woman checking me in has quite a chirpy voice. I conclude she must be from the Capitol.
"Name?" She says, her brown eyes dull with boredom.
"Xavier Fabre," she flips a good amount of pages in the book before getting to my name. It's amazing how many kids there are here in Three.
"Dominant hand?" I saw her take blood from some of the others, so I presume she will do the same for me.
"Right," she pricks my finger quickly and I make a fingerprint by my name. After this I am sent to the section for seventeen year old males, as I wait for the Reaping to begin.
I'll be safe today, right?
Lunasa Young, 33
District Three Escort
There's so much more to life than someone's appearance.
All everyone in the Capitol seems to think about is how people look. I've never understood why people value a silly thing like beauty compared to something that could actually get you somewhere in life, such as smarts or kindness. How do someone's looks contribute to the world? Someone's intelligence could help to advance an entire society, and someone's kindness could change many people's lives for the better. I've made it my personal mission to value wits alongside being nice above everything, contrary to the people around me in the Capitol. Maybe it had something to do with how I grew up, but beauty just seems so unimportant in the scheme of life.
When I was in school, I was taunted for the way I looked. I had frizzy, curly blonde hair, and mundane brown eyes. I was overweight and my face was covered in acne. I didn't care all that much, I had a close group of true friends and that was all I needed. But people were so mean. If you didn't like the way you look here in the Capitol, it's usually a simple process to get it changed. By the time kids are around twelve in the Capitol, most have gotten surgeries to change the way they look to their heart's desire. You can alter it as many times as you please, as long as you have the money for it. Personally, I didn't want to change the way I was born. I felt that I shouldn't try to be something I'm not.
My parents were the ones who decided that I would get surgery against my will. They didn't even bother telling me what specific changes I was about to go through. I remember them telling me before I drifted off prior to being altered, that I would finally get to be beautiful. I remember how much that hurt. Once I was done with school I moved out and never talked to either of them again. But they were right about one thing - I had become pretty. All traces of my acne scars along with all of my pimples were totally gone. I was skinny with a nice figure and my hair was totally straight, from that point forward it dried without a single wave. I could not believe how much my parents changed me without even asking for my consent.
When the rebellion started, I didn't really choose a side. I figured it didn't matter who I wanted to emerge victorious because I knew the Capitol would defeat the districts the entire time. When these games started, President Regis sent word that she was looking for escorts from the Capitol between the ages of twenty and thirty five, one for each of the twelve districts, for the First Annual Hunger Games. When I sent in my application, it gave you the option to request specific districts you wanted, along with the ones you didn't want. I figured Three and Five were my best bets for caring about smarts, seeing their industries revolve around that. I had written that I refused to be with One without an explanation, not feeling the need to explain my life story to our President. I was glad that I got my wish and ended up with District Three.
Today I chose an outfit that is subtle but nice. I know some of my fellow escorts may be going over the top, especially for their Reaping outfits, but mine is very simple. I wear a red sleeveless dress with a plaid print on it, and a headband in my hair to match. My black pumps make me look taller than my actual height of five foot two, one of the only things about me that my parents chose not to change. I'm sure they're going to be shocked when the see me on screens all over Panem. If only it was the real me, not some kind of alternative body.
I walk out onto the stage, following the script I have memorized carefully.
"Welcome to District Three's Reaping of the First Annual Hunger Games!" A few people clap while some others remain silent. I recite the Treaty of Treason, and I then continue on with the rest of the procedure.
"President Regis wanted me to thank all of you for the technology you provide to our nation. We are stronger than ever now that we are reunited as one," I feel cold stares from some select members of the district.
"I will now select a name from the bowl to my left to see who our female tribute will be. If your name is called, please come to the stage," I open the slip of paper and read the name to the audience.
"Della Akuna!" I say, curious which of the many girls will come up to the stage. A fifteen year old girl in a fancy dress makes her way up the stairs onto the stage. She looks shocked that she is chosen - and almost confused. I think I've heard her last name before, but I just can't put my finger on it.
"Is there anyone who would like to volunteer in place of Della?" I pause, but the crowd is silent.
"Alright, now I'll select a name from the bowl to the right to see who our male tribute will be. If your name is called please do the same as Della did," the poor girl still looks very confused and upset.
"Xavier Fabre!" I say, feeling pity for the boy that makes his way from the seventeen year old male section onto the stage. He looks pale, and so afraid of what is to come. As he comes closer to me I can see that he has beads of perspiration dripping down his face. He doesn't strike me as the type that enjoys the spotlight.
"Is there anyone who would like to volunteer in place of Xavier?" Once again, not one person's voice is heard.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you District Three's tributes in the First Annual Hunger Games! Please shake hands," Della and Xavier do as I say.
"Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"
Are either of these kids smart enough to make it through the games?
Author's Note: Hi everybody! I hope you enjoyed my first Reaping Chapter! Della and Xavier were both really fun to write about and I can't wait to continue! Also, Happy Thanksgiving to those of you that celebrate it!
Yours Truly,
CuriousClove :)
