As you can tell now, I have no real plan when it comes to Reapings. I just write about who I fancy writing about that day. So here is District Seven. Three Reapings down, nine more to go!
I am thinking about Venus having a longer pre-Games. In world, it might still only be a week but I thought as this is based on couples, you will want to see them develop. I'll keep you updated on that.
Anyway, for now, enjoy Chapter 4- District Seven.
Linden Hunter-18
District Seven Male
The brush made a soft sound that was only just audible over the distant birdsong. Each bristle leaving a perfect trail of paint behind it and helping to recreate the image I saw before me. Well, I had seen earlier that day.
Work in the lumber yard started at 6 am on Tuesday, this gave me time to trek towards the real trees that were not planted for the sole use of becoming a park bench.
I never left the District, not that I could even if I wanted to. Since the last Games, security around the borders had increased. I didn't need to be there, however. I just needed to see my subject.
Today's subject was, once again, the rocky mountains but this time, I wanted to capture the sunrise against the chalky, jagged side. I only made a quick sketch, mainly to get the outline of the tree cover and mountains themselves. Then I pulled out a leather case that held my thick, vibrant coloured pencils and quickly coloured in the variety of life that filled the scene. The pencils were short and blunt, a gift from my father three years ago. They were not the best for a final piece but for a quick sketch under the watchful eye of a Peacekeeper, they did the job.
Once done, I would tie my leather notebook up once more, place it in my shirt pocket, grab my axe and gloves and head off to work.
That's right, even as the mayor's son, I was expected to work. District Seven needed all the able workers it could get, status didn't matter, it just meant you got to leave earlier or have days off. I was open to taking the latter but I always liked to stay until everyone else had finished their shift. Which was at nightfall. If I was going to do my job, I was going to do it right, rich kid or not.
I was still a daydreamer, though. I'd find myself drawn into the beauty of the world that no one else could see. Today it was the purple flowers that broke through Seven's rich soil and the Mockingjay that sat perched in a distant tree. The Mockingjay caught my eye so much with its beautiful colour that I added a flock of them to my sketch, flying high above the trees in the early morning sunlight. I spent my breaks sketching with one hand and the other shoving a sandwich into my mouth. Some artwork did not turn out well, which was a shame considering the cost of paint. Yet I felt this piece was going to be the best one yet.
I placed the paint brush in my mouth, biting down on the wood as I stepped back and looked at the canvas. I could see a million different problems with it. Places were the paint had clumped, where I should have used a sharper edge or where the watercolor had ran. It did not bother me. To me, every imperfection was another way I could improve.
Some people got annoyed by my positivity. It was almost like people enjoyed wallowing in self pity. Maybe it was because I came from a rich background. But to me, if you spent your time in negativity, you always missed the gems of beauty in the world.
Chrisjen Daltier-17
District Seven Female
" Jen!" my younger brother Eliot cried from the kitchen table.
"Hang on!" I grunted back, trying to juggle watching the boiling water and the cat near the eggs. My other little brother, Cyril snarled as he hit Eliot on the head.
"Jen, he hit me again!" Eliot cried.
"You started it!" Cyril hissed back, his face red with anger.
I listened to the pair bicker from behind me as I placed one of the expensive eggs on the wooden spoon and lowered it into the boiling water.
"Jen!" the pair screamed in unison, causing me to drop one of the eggs into the water and a small drop of boiling water to land on my skin.
"What?" I bellowed, reaching for the grubby tea towel and placing on my arm. My two brothers watched in stunned silence, their eyes wide as they shrunk into their seats. I sighed as the pain started to vanish, thankfully leaving me with no burns. "I'm sorry, you just need to learn to respect when I am cooking. Now, what was it?"
"Nothing," the pair quietly mumbled as they lowered their heads, breaking eye contact with me. Wonderful. I think avoiding the subject is worse than confronting it. Clearly, my brothers do not share this ideal.
I roll my eyes and go back to watching the eggs that boil over the fireplace. We were a well-off family but eggs were still expensive. Well, chicken eggs anyway. There was always a black market for eggs pinched from a nearby birds nest but chicken eggs, for me at least, were the best. Bigger and more substantial.
We only ever saw such food on our birthdays or Reaping day and it was always in the same form. Seven's horrid bread, sliced into strips, served with a boiled egg, the center still gooey. It was not much but it tied us over until that night's celebrations where there was always a lonely woman, willing to give some children a small scrap of food.
"Is dad going to see us before the reaping?" Eliot asked softly, just in case he annoyed me again. I glanced over at the clock, an old wooden thing on the wall and sighed, shaking my head.
"I hope these eggs cook soon, we have to be getting dressed soon," I grumbled, trying my best to change the subject.
Our father was not a bad man, he was just a broken man who buried himself in work since my mother's death. I resented him for leaving me alone to almost raise my brothers but it was also his money that allowed for us to eat these eggs. I had to admit, even with my determination, I would not be able to balance work, raising my brothers and good grades. For me to keep my sanity, someone had to take one of them on.
It didn't make it any better that even on Reaping day, a day every man, woman or child had off until after the event was over, our father was still absent. While my brothers got dressed, I would wake my father up, asleep after a long night at work.
He would then drag his feet to the reaping, kiss us each on the head, wish us luck and stand with the other parents. He would go to the Reaping dressed in his work clothes so he could go the moment the cameras had turned off. Most of the time we did not see him until the next morning when we might catch a glimpse of him before school.
Chrisjen Daltier-17
Train Rides
Linden was strange. While I sat watching Seven slip away into the distance, the older boy looked like a child full of sugar. He could not stand still. He bounced around the carriage, trying to get a look at every single new thing. Trying every new food and he hadn't stopped talking to our Mentors. I hated it.
A few hours ago, I may have enjoyed someone like Linden for the company. A bright happy soul. But at the moment, I just wanted to strangle him. It was almost like the boy could not grasp he would be dead in just under a week. Well, maybe not so soon.
The boy was built like a bull with large hands that look big enough to snap a log or break someone's skull. Yet, I knew size did not mean victory. I had Thresh from last year pegged for Victor. It was a long fight but still, the smaller, shorter Cato ended up on top. It wasn't impossible for an outlier to win but size did not always factor into it. Look at Katniss.
Skill did and I was not sure I had that. I did not have any form of weapons skill and I never worked in the lumber yard so my climbing skills never ventured past a few branches. I was not the fastest runner and I didn't know how to find water. At least Linden had some odds on his side when it came to strength. At the moment, I was not clocking in with much.
I was sure if I searched long enough or spoke with my mentor Joanna, I would be able to dig up something useful during the Games. For now, my mind could not focus on such things. All I could think about was my family.
I should have but never did teach my brothers how to cook or clean. It was unlikely my father would help them. After seeing him on his knees, begging for Peacekeepers to let me go, my death would not doubt send him into a nose dive in terms of depression.
The thought of my brothers going to school on an empty stomach and in dirty clothes was stomach turning to say the least. I knew I had to come out alive somehow, then not only would they be okay, I wouldn't have to work another day in my life. I just didn't know how.
Joanna must have sensed my frustration as when she looked over at me, her face dropped. She quickly stood up from her seat and headed towards the carriage where our bedrooms where.
"Come," she said bluntly. "It's time we had a talk." I had seen Joanna around. I liked to think this was out of kindness but she was most likely just as frustrated at Linden as I was.
Linden Hunter-18
Train Rides
I should have been fearing for my life but all I could feel inside of me was excitement.
All around me was colour and joy. The food table was garnished with bright cakes, jellies, and hard boiled sweets. I knew of their existence but the colour they held was beyond my imagination. As I zoomed past the table, I dipped my finger in a neon pink, soft dessert. The taste was of cherry, it was too close to be synthetic yet I knew it was.
This just fueled my excitement more. I turned my attention to the window and the outside world. We had passed the aces of forest in Seven as we now raced through the mountain I painted so often. In all the years I laid my eyes on it, I had never seen the tunnel the train was going through. Part of me wondered if it was a form of Capitol technology. Then again, part of me didn't care.
Blight smiled softly at my bouncy nature, but when I caught a glimpse into his brown eyes, I knew it was time to get to business. I came to a stop as Joanna and Chrisjen left the room, moving towards the velvet chair across from Blight. It was still warm from Chrisjen.
"What do you think so far?" He said in a deep but calm voice.
I smiled widely, a million things I wanted to say but I knew the man had seen it all before. "It's amazing, I should be angry that they withheld all of this from us but...it's just amazing."
Blight cast his eyes to the ground with a sadness I did not quite understand. I couldn't decide if it was because he was once as excited as me until his victory or if he had seen too many Reaped Tributes die, maybe that was what he saw in me. Just another dead Tribute.
"As you know, this year you will be paired with a girl, or boy who you might have to marry if you were to win." My heart sank. The pretty cakes and the new world outside of the window had distracted me from the Games to some extent. I knew where I was heading but I never really gave it time to sink in. The only other Tribute I knew was Chisjen and she was not really my type. I liked to look after my partner. Not the other way around. I enjoyed being relied on. Blight must have noticed my face drop as his own face softened. "I know it isn't easy to think about it but is there anything we could use either to win sponsors or...kill?"
I tried to think. But it wasn't easy to tear yourself apart, looking for any quality that may give you the upper hand against twenty-three other Tributes.
"Well...I'm strong and I can use an axe...but only to cut wood," I trailed off at the end, my green eyes flickering to the outside world once more but this time I viewed it with a hint of sadness.
"Those are good. Well, from this alone I can tell that your positive, that will come in handy for keeping up morale during the Games and you see small details in things which will be good for picking apart Tributes or spotting them quickly in any arena really."
"What about sponsors, I'm guessing they are important?"
"Yes, they can be life or death," Blight mused. "Your paintings, the Capitol loves art so depending on how good you are, that is a selling point. Your upbeat nature, no one wants a drag to win and your looks. I mean, trying to gain sponsors from your looks can have a negative effect after victory-"
"What negative effect?" I said, my mind quickly snapping back into action. The way he hung on the word was not promising.
His eyes glanced up at the carriage door that opened, allowing Joanna andChisjen back in. He looked back over to me and sighed. "That's something we will talk about on the other side, I think."
It is good to take the fast road but sometimes you will only end up unhappy if you can't take time to appreciate life."