District 7
Charlie Kane
Life in District 7 isn't always the easiest. Mom and I have to make ends meet somehow, especially since she can't work anymore, so I've had to pick up odd jobs here and there. They make us money, but they leave with me no time to do school work.
Mom doesn't know this, of course. She thinks I'm able to balance work and school, but honestly. I can't pay rent and feed us without sacrificing something. I'm pretty sure she doesn't know I've taken tesserae, either. But hey, we've got to survive.
She coughs into her hands as I get dressed for the reaping. I sneak a look at her palms as she returns them to her lap- no blood today. That's good. We haven't had a no-blood day in a while, and I'm glad to see one now.
She pushes herself to her feet and helps me with my tie. I only own the one, made from a silk shirt that got too ratty to ever wear again. She finishes the knot and steps back to admire her handiwork. "Looks great," she tells me, a wan smile on her face.
We head to the center of District 7. Posco, our escort, starts reading the Dark Days speech, and I scan the crowd for Lyla. She's in the girl's half of the fifteen's section, but she doesn't see me. It's funny, we have the same birthday, right down to the year. It's like we were born to be together.
Posco finishes the speech and reaches for the boy's bowl. "Charlie Kane," he reads, and I can't breathe.
"No," I say under my breath. I must be dreaming, I just need to wake up, I can't have been reaped.
But I'm awake, and I have.
I'm so dead.
Aspen Windsnap
Reaping day is the worst day of my life. It's the day we knew Beech was going to die, back when he was reaped three years ago. We all said goodbye that day, and any little bit of hope we had disappeared when the girl from 7 broke his neck in the bloodbath.
He made me a tree before he died. Not a real tree, of course, but a carving of one, made from aspen wood. "Just like you," he had said. I had smiled and asked him when he was going to carve something from beech wood, and he told me once he had enough spare wood after work.
He never got the chance.
I hope I don't get reaped, too. I can't leave Mum and Maple alone like that. I need to make her a tree carving, too.
I reach the square and join the sixteens while Maple joins the twelves. It's her first year eligible, but she's been remarkably brave about it. I've got to congratulate her on that once we get back home.
Posco picks the boy tribute, and I take a look at him. He's blonde, like Beech was. He's younger, though. Still, I'm gonna cheer for him.
And then Posco picks a slip from the girl's bowl. "Aspen Windsnap," he says.
Fuck. At least Beech was eighteen when he was reaped. I'm just sixteen; how can I live if he couldn't?
One thing is for sure- I no longer want Charlie to win. We might ally if he proves himself useful, but I'm not going to die for him.
I narrow my eyes and try to look threatening once I'm on the stage. I will method-act my way into a victory. I will be as ruthless as Beech wasn't, I will make sure the others know I am not easy prey, and I will return to my family.
Charlie Kane
Mom is my first visitor. She doesn't say much, though to be honest there isn't a lot she can say. We're both upset. I don't know who's going to take care of her when I'm gone. Dad died last year, and I don't have any siblings. Even if I somehow win, she's going to be alone for at least two weeks, and that might be enough to kill her outright.
Lyla comes a bit later, and I'm glad to see her. Neither of us speak, though, and she just grabs my hand and holds it tightly.
"Charlie," she says finally, and my heart melts. She looks more broken than I do, and I know I must look like a mess.
"I know," I say. "I know." I blink back the tears that are so desperately trying to come out as I pull her in closer to me. I can't cry. Aspen can't see me cry. She gives me the chills, a bit, but she could be a valuable ally, and she can't think I'm weak.
Lyla grabs a bracelet off of her wrist and hands it to me. It's woven from some sort of thread that I can't place, and I'm pretty sure her father made it for her when she was ten. She's worn it ever since. "For you," she says.
"I can't possibly accept this," I say. "It's yours."
"Yeah," she replies, shoving it into my chest. "So bring it back."
"Oh Lyla," I say. "I want to, you know I want to, but…" I choke on my last words. We both know I'm not coming back. I've been a debarker, not a lumberjack. I'm shitty at wielding an axe, and that's literally the only reason District 7 ever has a chance in the Games. I guess I could be decent enough with a knife, but I have no combat training either. I'm absolutely fucked.
She shakes her head. "No buts. You are coming back alive, and you're bringing my bracelet with you. If you don't return, I'll kill you myself."
I plaster a smile on my face. "If you say so."
And then our time is up, and a Peacekeeper enters the room. He ushers me to the train, and I steal one last look at Lyla. I ingrain the image into my head. Dark brown tresses falling on her shoulders, sage green eyes framed by long lashes, dotted freckles across her face in a similar pattern to my own.
She looks like the most beautiful woman in the world, and I want her to be my last thoughts when I die.
Aspen Windsnap
My girlfriend Camellia gives me a peck on the cheek and a hug. She wishes me well, but what can she really do? Nothing. She can't do anything to stop me from dying.
"I want you to be happy," I tell her. "Don't give up your whole life for someone you dated at sixteen. When I die, I want you to move on."
"No!" she replies, and bites her lip. "Don't talk like that. You're coming home. I know you will."
"Camellia," I say gently. "I'm going to try. But only one person makes it. The chances… they aren't good."
"I know," she says. "Just- please don't die. I love you."
"I love you too," I say. She leaves, and I get on the train. I need to return to her. I'm not sure she'll ever recover emotionally if I don't.
My fingers find the tree carving in my pocket. Beech died because he wasn't able to make the kill in time. I won't make the same mistake.
District 8
Wilson Joyce
I have nobody and no one. No family, as they died in a house fire when I was two. No friends, because clearly my bad luck is contagious and they don't want to catch that. No partner, because I'm weak and only fourteen anyway.
I go with the other Community Home kids to the square. I don't know if the numbers actually back it up, but I'm pretty sure us orphans get reaped more than the normal kids. Which doesn't make sense from a Capitol standpoint, since they want to punish parents.
It makes sense from a District standpoint though. We're expensive, and nobody will miss us.
I stand with my group and listen to the Dark Days speech. It's the same every year, but it distracts me just a little bit from my impending doom.
And then he picks my name.
I'm hardly surprised. Like I said, us Community kids go all the time.
For not the first time, I wish I had a family. Maybe then I wouldn't be condemned.
Hadley Thrims
The coin is still in my pocket. It always is. I picked it up when I was seven, and it's been there ever since. A whole decade, huh.
It's my lucky coin, in a way. I haven't gotten reaped while carrying it yet, so it must have worked.
I dress nicely- District 8 is textiles, after all, and I pat some blush onto my cheeks. Father always says I'm too pale, so maybe this will help hide it. If my coin fails me, I'll need to look good to sponsors.
Father leads me to the town square and I join the seventeens.
The escort selects a boy. Wilson, I think his name is. He looks scrawny. Nobody gasps, nobody cries, and nobody looks sad for him.
Maybe he's an asshole or something.
I take my coin out of my pocket and look at the well-worn inscription on it. Panem, twenty-five cents, words I know better than my own name at this point. My fingers are sweaty with anticipation, and the coin slips from my grasp right as the escort calls the girl's name.
It's my name. Hadley Thrims, plain as day.
It's the coin's fault. It left my hand right as he said my name, so I blame the quarter. If I'm holding it in the Games, maybe I'll do better than everyone else. I'll make sure not to drop it.
Wilson Joyce
I don't have a token. Nobody to give me one, either. The train approaches, and on impulse I pull a leaf off of a bush. At least it's from District 8.
Hadley scares me. I think she's already thinking about how to kill me. She's not an ally.
I have a sinking feeling the arena will be just like District 8. I'm not gonna have any allies.
Hadley Thrims
Father shakes my hand. "You're a solid girl," he says. "You're strong. Don't forget that. I believe in you."
"I believe in myself, too," I reply with a smile. I don't know if it's true. It might be. I haven't really thought about my chances yet. I'll think about it more once I get to training and see everybody else. Kinda hard to know if I can win before I know my competition.
Maybe I'll get lucky, and I'm up against twenty-two cancer-ridden twelve-year-olds with broken legs. Wilson won't be hard to dispatch, so who knows?