5F: Reyna Heliora (16)

Pre-Reaping

I sprint out the back door of our house after shoving a pair of shoes on, running down the dirt alleyway behind our house and the others. I'm a mess; but then again it is only 6:00, and I usually sleep in on holidays like this.

The streets of lower-class Five are practically empty, only one or two people out. I'm sure the town square is bustling in comparison, but there's nothing that I'd buy there so I can't test my theory. I'm not entirely sure where I'm going, but I just have to get away from my house for an hour or two before the reaping starts.

The sun is a sixth through the sky, and although the dawn's always wonderful to see I'm actually glad that I get to miss it for once. I have to be wide awake and ready for work by four o'clock in the morning usually, as it takes about half an hour to travel to the windmills and my first shift is from 4:45 to 6:00. It's exhausting. I've seen sunrise enough that it's more of a treat to wake up hen the sky is already light, not dark.

The wind is particularly biting today and it whips me several times. Gingerly, I touch my right cheek. The pain is instant, searing. And the wind's only been making it worse. Did my parents see? No, I barely saw them this morning and they were looking at the left side of my face, not the right. They couldn't have seen, no matter how much I want them to, because it won't stop otherwise...

I give myself a shake. Don't think that way, Reyna. You're safe for now. He can't get you here. And however false it may be, I keep telling myself this.

After about ten more minutes, I'm at a house that I've been traveling to for the last few years. My feet just took me here, but I guess I'm just so used to coming here that this is what happened. Besides, coming here will have been a good thing, right? I'm pretty sure my best friend has makeup that will cover the forming bruises. She won't ask questions, being who she is, plus, I don't really have anywhere else to go.

I rap faintly at the door. There's a chance that they'll be asleep, but it's unlikely.

Seconds pass.

Please be home, please be home, please be—

The wooden door swings open to show the face of a curly-haired blond woman. I remember, how similarly my friend resembles her mother in appearance. "Oh, Reyna! It's good to see you." Turning down to hall, she calls, "Winnifred, dear, Reyna's here to see you!"

I smile and walk past her before she can notice my bruise, or if she has already, ask any questions about it. Two rooms to the left, a friendly face peers out of the bedroom. "Hi Reyna! I'm so glad you could stop by!" She gestures me in, and I follow her into her pastel-pink painted room.

"Ouch, did you trip or something? That looks like a nasty bruise." I nod, thankful for her suggestion. "Let me guess: some careless worker left a wire where they shouldn't have and you didn't expect it?"

"Pretty much," I shrug.

"Well, I'll get you fixed up." She disappears into her bathroom and about a minute later emerges with a small jar of something. She takes a brush and dabs it in, then starts applying the cream to my bruise. It burns, but there's not a lot I can do because I really do not want my parents, or anyone for that matter, to see this. And Winnifred wouldn't mind doing this every day, I'm sure. I hate taking advantage of her kindness in ways like this, but I'm not sure what would happen if my parents found out. Although I wouldn't complain if they did, I know someone else who would.

A few minutes later, Winnifred's finished with the makeup and puts the jar away. "Do you want me to put some more on? Because, like, I have this really cute shade of lipstick that would look perfect on you." I shake my head. "Your loss then."

She shows me a mirror, and I'm surprised to see that the bruise is completely gone. I look much more normal, as opposed to before.

"Oh! Did I tell you about my shopping trip yesterday?" I shake my head. "Well, I was shopping for clothes in the marketplace, and I saw, like, this really cute skirt, and, like, I had to buy it. I'm like, thinking of wearing it to the reaping, so let me know what you think so I can, like, know whether it's a good idea or not. And, like, my dress from two years ago would look amazing on you, and it'd probably fit because you're so skinny, so if you want it, don't be afraid to, like, ask. And also, Lotus is, like, the best fashion consultant so, if you want fashion advice you should totally go and ask her. Oh, and do you like, want the dress?"

I shrug. "Sure you do," she says, throwing a bundle of fabric in my hands. "You know that, like, the reaping's in thirty minutes? You should, like, go home so you can get ready. Feel free to come after the reaping."

— — —

Finally, I'm back home. I swing open the creaky door and let out a internal sigh of relief as my mind takes in the absence of a certain seventeen year old. I'm safe, for now at least.

"Oh! Reyna, you're back! Malcom came earlier, but left when you weren't here. Where were you?" My mother asks.

"Winnifred's," I mumble. My mom nods understandingly.

"We've got the bath set up for you, and—oh, I see Winnifred gave you her dress. Well, change into that." Unwittingly, I look down at the clothing that I'm still apparently holding. Nodding, I head to the bathroom and start getting ready.

The bath is warm, but I'm careful not to put my face under the water. Once I've finished, I take a look at the dress. It's long-sleeved, which will hide some of the bruises on my upper arms and hopefully that one lower down. I quickly slip it on and, like Winnifred said, it fits well, actually a bit loose. My old one I've had since twelve and it was getting painfully tight. I check my reflection in the cracked mirror, and I'm relieved to see I look quite normal.

"Hey, Reyna. Ready to go?" my sister, Logan, asks. I nod. I'm ready to go.

5M: Blayke Edison (16)

Pre-Reaping

"Blayke?" My mom calls from outside the room. "Do you want that book on survival skills?" I look up from the Advanced Swordfighting Techniques book that my stepdad bought me.

"Sure, thanks," I respond. She enters, looking around at the mess of my room. Most of it is related to Hunger Games skills, in particular swordfighting but also swimming (which, unfortunately, I can't do very well) and survival skills. Most people who come over here think that I'm a Hunger Games fanatic, which fortunately isn't true. I don't care how rich we are, I still have five slips in the reaping bowl and that means that there's still a chance I'll be reaped.

"We—you—really need to clean this up sometime, Blayke."

I shrug, because really, what does it matter? It's called my room for a reason. Only mine, and that means that I choose how much I clean it, or lack thereof.

"And also, could you please try to wear something else to the reaping?"

"Nope," I respond, popping the p. "Come on, mom. It's just an outfit. Anyways, the book?" Mom always goes on a rant whenever she talks about my clothing preference, so I've learned to change the subject quickly so that she can't.

She sighs. "Fine, but next year—"

"We'll talk about next year next year, mom. Thanks for the book." Recognizing defeat, my mom closes the door to my room after a reminder that it's only two hours until the reaping.

I go back to finishing Advanced Swordfighting Techniques and then close the book once I'm finished. I don't actually have a sword that I can fight with, of course, just theory work. My mom and stepdad may be rich, but arming me with a real sword is one of those difficult situations that money can't fix. I've practiced with sticks that I've found outside—they're not real, of course, but it gives me a grasp of what it's like to fight with a real sword.

Hopefully, I won't have to use these skills at all.

I finish the book and pile it on top of a few other swordfighting books. I want to see Dina before the reaping starts, and I promised her that I'd be there in about five minutes. Which I'll likely not be at the town square by.

Hurriedly, I rush down the stairs and out the door. "Going to meet up with Dina, see you after the reaping!" I call down the hallway before opening the door. I don't run, because for some reason the Peacekeepers hate it when people run, but I walk quickly to the town square where the coffee shop we're meeting at is located. Already the Capitol and District Five seals are being hung on banners, and whoever prepares the district for this has already constructed a makeshift stage. I notice that the reaping bowls are still hidden away somewhere, though.

As I enter the shop, I check my watch. I'm a minute late, and I can see Dina waving to me from a booth at the back. I nod, walking over to that booth and sitting down across from her. "Sorry I'm late," I tell her. "I lost track of time when reading."

My girlfriend smiles mischievously. "What, busy reading advanced theory books that you won't even need?"

"It's not funny!" I grit, although she knows I'm not actually mad at her. "I could get reaped this year and the fact that I prepared for the Hunger Games could be what saves my life!"

She laughs again. "Well. Anyways, drink your coffee. It'll get cold otherwise." Grudgingly, I take a sip. We've come here every year since I've was thirteen, and I'm sure the tradition will carry on for at least a few more years. I've jokingly said that coming here is good luck for the reaping, but then again I've never had to take out tesserae and Dina's only had to once. So, really, the odds are in our favor.

"You ready for the reapings?"

I nod. "I'm really glad you're safe this year."

She takes a long sip before continuing. "There's still next year. You know, eighteen is the most common year to get reaped, according to both tribute data and common sense." Yes, of course it is. If we were only a year older than what we are now...

But the arena is usually horrible during Quarter Quells, and there's the chance that the Gamemakers put in an extra twist.

"Well, true," Dina remarks and I realize that I said what I was thin without realizing it. Strange, I almost never do that. "You've got a point there, but the Hunger Games are still the Hunger Games no matter what."

"What's this talk, anyways? How likely is it that one of us'll be reaped?" I wonder aloud, this time on purpose.

"You started it," Dina remarks, smiling. I jokingly roll my eyes. "C'mon, let's go outside to the reaping. It's about time."

5F: Reyna Heliora (16)

Reaping

I watch as the escort drags us through the Capitol video and speech. Finally, it's time for the reaping. I really hope it's nobody that I know, like Winnifred—even though she's annoying, I can't imagine life without my only friend.

"Our female tribute is..." the escort picks a slip out of the bowl and unfolds it. "Uh...hang on, ah there we go!" The slip was upside down, I assume. "Reyna Heliora!"

I'm in shock. Although it's not surprising, considering that I've had to take out tesserae before, but it's still very surprising. Swallowing, I start walking up to the stage.

"Hello, Reyna! I'll skip the questions, since we're running a tad late. Let's pick a boy to join you onstage!

"Blayke Edison!"

5M: Blayke Edison (16)

Reaping, Post-Reaping

The girl onstage looks incredibly poor. Skinny, tired, those small clues that show that someone's poor. I wouldn't have guessed she was a girl if I'd just seen her in the street; she's that underfed. And then I realize who's name she said afterwards.

Mine.

Well, thank goodness I've practiced.

I mount the stage, and the rest of the reaping—which isn't really much—flies by. Until the goodbyes. The possibly last time I get to see my friends and family.

Surprisingly, Dina's the first in. I've heard that usually family comes in first, although that might just be a lie. Probably.

There are tears pricking in the corners of her eyes. "Oh my god Blayke. How? You have to win, you have to. You've learned. I can't watch you die."

"You won't have to. I'll win, I promise. This is the reason I've been practicing, in case I was reaped. . Okay?"

She nods. "Okay."

My mom and stepdad are next. They wish me luck and we spend time together before they ask about my token. "Right here." It's a small metal ball, something I found one winter. After that, the Peacekeepers drag me away.

I still can't believe that I'm going into the Hunger Games.

5F: Reyna Heliora (16)

Post-reaping

"Reyna, are you okay?" my dad asks. Winnifred's already came and gushed over the Capitol fashions. "It's just—you seemed in shock. You can do it, though."

I sigh. My dad is really supportive, but he knows that I can't come out. The careers, one of them will probably win. I'll be dead in a week, nothing more than a dot on a Gamemaker's screen. "Dad, please—"

My mom takes my hands in hers. "You can, Reyna. We believe in you. Get a few sponsors, and you'll ne able to do it. Just try. For us." Logan nods, a please whispered.

"Okay. I'll try."

"And take this," my mom says, holding out a ring. My grandmother's. "As your token."

They have to leave, and I brace myself for a third visitor. I don't consider myself an optimist by any means, but I'm grateful that this is the last time I'll ever see him.

A man in a white uniform marches up. "Come with me, you have to board the train now." I nod, trying to contain my confusion. Isn't he—

Following the man, I barely notice the swarms of reporters crowding me, too wrapped up in the questions swirling through my head.

Incredibly sorry about how late this chapter is, but the good part is that I'm satisfied with the results! I really enjoyed writing these two tributes, and the (unplanned) contrast of backgrounds was interesting. Reyna keeps talking about a 'him', and I'm sorry I couldn't write about this more clearly. You'll find out later.

I've been drafting the Capitol chapters and I've realised that I have no idea when certain tributes should be featured. I'm not sure if the form will work or not, but with the form below you can choose when you want certain tributes to be featured. Make sure to read through the descriptions, too, and if you're still confused just shoot me a PM!

Here it is (take out spaces and paragraph breaks)— h t t p s : / / docs . goo gle

.

c o

m

/ forms/ d/1COGF0lvB6l- PJNjKCbnsL6TtOa0XHjAUJ29qd2LUBg /

Sorry for the surplus of spaces; I had difficulty letting the link through. It'll be on my profile as well. Oh, and the blog completely slipped my mind too! Link to that on, surprise surprise, my profile!

Thanks to Lilah32 for Reyna and Pacceca for Blayke! Also, I forgot to credit the submitters for District Four, so Monroe belongs to xQueen-Of-Applesx and Drake belongs to dsalazz. Mini quiz:

1. Is the bruise on Reyna's left or right cheek?

2. Who do you think it is that Reyna keeps talking about? You can just put something like, abusive uncle, for example, and there's no right or wrong—just want to see your opinions.

3. What is in the Town Square by the time Blayke goes? Choose all; 1 point for 1 correct answer and 2 points for all.

4. What is Blayke's token?

See you guys (hopefully) soon with the D6 chapter!