Andrew "Drew" de Luce (18)- D4M
The dawn is the most beautiful when looked at over the sea. The colors of the sky can't really be observed fully without the dark ocean as the backdrop, allowing you to capture them perfectly. The salty air hits my face and I close my eyes. This is what heaven feels like, certainly. The darkness is peaceful out here, with the scent of salt and feeling of the boat rocking underneath me, the wet spray on my eyelids.
My parents will be up soon, and wondering where I am. One look outside will tell them, but I should still get back soon. I just wanted to come out here to see witness the beginning of this day, sure to be one of the greatest days of my life. And I would be lying if I said that I won't miss this place while I'm gone. I've practically grown up on the sea, testing my father boats and learning to swim. I can hear his voice now: "Swimming is the best sport of all of them. Think of a muscle that you don't use while swimming."
I have to say he was right. Even when the trainers thought I was a lost cause, my family has always been there for me.
After I bring the boat back to our dock, I take one last look at the ocean and head inside. It's crazy to think this might be the last time I'll ever see the waves and the seagulls, but I know that's not true. I've always been the most determined trainee at the Academy, even after the whole vision fiasco.
"Andrew!" my mother greets me as I enter the house. My sister jumps up from her armchair and engulfs me in a hug. I chuckle softly and wrap my arms around her. I take a peek at the object she's holding and see its a magazine from the Capitol. A ballerina is featured on the front, dressed in pale pink with a delicate tiara on her head, the design alluding to the victor's crown. I realize it's Celia Winterbourne, last year's victor.
"I'll say hi Celia for you if I can," I say, pulling away to raise an eyebrow at her.
"There will be plenty of time for that after you win," she says dryly. "Besides, she's not a real ballerina. Her team is using dance as her talent just for show. Look, her feet are all wrong!"
Fiona points vigorously to Celia's pose on the cover. She's always wanted to be a renowned dancer. After I win, I'll be able to bring her to the Capitol to see all kinds of performances and get her real Capitolite lessons.
"Well, then that's what I'll tell her," I say, not necessarily surprised that Fiona feels comfortable criticizing a victor's pointe. She gives me critiques on my fighting all the time, even though she's never trained a day in her life.
"We'll be heading down soon," our mother informs us. "Cadia will be meeting us there."
My brother Cadia has made quite a living as a fisherman, preferring to utilize the boats instead of designing and building them."Alright, I'll go get ready."
As I walk through the kitchen, I accidently bump into one of the stools at the counter. I stop and take some deep breaths. Sometimes my depth perception is a little off when I'm excited, but I've learned to control it in a combat context. But I still bump into things every now and then when my guard is down.
"Are you alright, Drew?" Fiona asks.
"Yes, I'm fine," I say stiffly, continuing up the stairs.
After changing into my freshly washed Reaping clothes, I take a moment to stare at myself in the mirror. My right eye is the same blue color as my family, piercing and captivating.
My left eye is a different story. The color has changed since the cataract surgery, making it a faded green that was once blue. It stares directly into the mirror, but there is no life in it. I sigh and fix my hair in the mirror, ignoring my sightless left eye. I suppose I will need to get used to having lots of attention devoted to it, as I'm sure the Capitol will be fascinated by me. The Academy chose a half-blind guy to represent their district? That's right, and when they see me in the arena, they will realize why.
Nicolette "Nikki" Anderson (18)- D4F
"Put your shoes on and let's hurry up," My mother says as she pulls my hair up into a tight ponytail. I wince in pain, but I know better than to ask her to be more careful.
"Are we almost finished?" my dad asks from outside my bedroom.
"One more minute!" My mom shouts back. Tensions are running high for everyone today. It's taken nearly an hour to prepare me for the Reaping, like a freshly caught fish that needs to be cleaned, skinned, sliced, and decorated artfully for the plate. I shudder.
Maybe I just have blood on the brain. Last night, we had rewatched the abridged version of my brother's Games. We had skipped through most of the parts that didn't involve him, so it had only taken an hour and a half or so. It had been pointless anyway, I knew the footage by heart. Nothing will ever stick in my mind like the first time I watched him decapitate the boy from 5; his first human kill. Unfortunately, the same thing happened to him a week later when the girl from 8 had taken off his own head.
Everyone in the district said that it was a fluke; the girl had gotten lucky for most of the Games by hiding from the other tributes, whereas Marcus had bravely been fighting others the entire time. He was already wounded, which only made her chances of winning their final battle easier.
My parents thought differently.
"Look at how he jumps away from the sword here," I remember my father telling me last night. Marcus' battle with the boy from One had been intense, ending in his victory but also ultimately sealing his fate with a stab wound to the thigh. "He's letting fear control him; making him sloppy. Stay controlled in your movements. Only a slight jerk away would have sufficed to avoid that swing. Don't use up all your energy dodging the enemy."
"I know, Dad," I had said tiredly. I had heard it all before. When we watched Marcus have his head taken off, my father snorted and shook his head disapprovingly. "What a waste…"
"Sloppy" was the word they always used to describe Marcus. To me, he was my brother.
I guess you couldn't expect anything else from two victors. The Capitol loved victor's children, and my parents were feeding us right to them.
Sometimes I'm glad I don't have anymore siblings, or else they would suffer the same fate Marcus did. The same one I might suffer.
"Alright, we're ready," Mom whispers into my ear. She grabs my shoulders and turns me to the body mirror in my room. She smiles at our reflections and rubs my shoulders comfortingly. "I love you, Nikki. You're going to make us so proud. Now let's get going before your father has an aneurysm."
…
The Reapings used to be a fun time for me. I would watch on with Marcus and my parents behind the rope, clapping when the brave Careers volunteered to win glory for their district. Then we would go home and spar in the backyard with play weapons, imagining we were them. We would buy all the merchandise that my parents ordered from the Capitol and wave for the cameras when they came to interview former victors if someone from District 4 won. Those were the best Games, the times when we won.
The other times were hard to watch. I would be dressed like the female tribute for her interview when we watched the Games, refusing to take it off except for sleeping… or when she died. Pretty soon, the death of the girls became normal and routine. It wasn't until Marcus died that I realized what the Games were really about; not glory or the pretty outfits, but death.
The square is decorated the same way every year, bringing up all these painful memories. The buildings are sporting banners with "Happy Hunger Games!" written in bright gold script on a blood-red background. The chatter from the crowd is bouncing off the walls, especially that of the victors on the stage. They know that I will be volunteering this year. The child of two victors is sure to bring in tons of sponsors. Not to mention my partner, Drew, is a beast as well. They have a lot to be excited about.
My mom leaves me with a kiss on the cheek, my father with a pat on the shoulder. I'll see them again soon, but our meeting in the Justice Building will be our last in a long time. Apparently its against the Academy's rules for a family member to mentor another tribute.
As I'm getting my finger pricked, I feel an unwelcome presence behind me. I bristle and turn to face my worst nightmare. Dareon.
"What?" I growl, snatching my hand away from the woman taking my blood as soon as she's finished.
Dareon is wearing his signature shit-eating smirk. "I just wanted to wish you a happy Hunger Games. I'll be thinking of you while you're gone. You're going to look so hot covered with all that blood…"
"Romantic," I say, turning away and immediately heading into the eighteen-year old's section. Thankfully, Dareon can't follow me here. He's the only person I know aside from my parents who willingly talks to me, even though I snap at him every time. It's clear the girls my age have already learned their lesson, stepping away from me almost imperceptibly. They know I'm not a force to be reckoned with.
The Reapings start in the usual manner, and I find myself wondering what I did so wrong in a past life to lead my to this moment. Forced to kill others because my parents want me to… what kind of sick creator would put me in this situation?
When the reaped girl's name is called, I step forward immediately and shout, "I volunteer as tribute!"
The escort is utterly delighted, as if this wasn't expected. She lightly places a hand on my back once I've climbed the stairs to look out over the square. In the distance, I can see the ocean. Neverending, full of life and beauty. And the fisherman here have no problem hooking them and reeling them in for their own enjoyment.
"What's your name, dear?" the escort asks me sweetly.
"Nicolette Anderson," I say, trying to inflect some of the excitement I used to have for the Games into my voice.
Andrew "Drew" de Luce (18)- D4M
I spend most of the Reaping fuming because Fiona hid the token I was going to take with me into the arena. I swear, I love my sister, but sometimes I wish I could just get away for a few weeks. I'm finally getting a well-deserved vacation.
Nikki is on stage soon enough, looking as distant and cold as ever. She's a good competitor, but having victors as parents, as awesome as it would be, can't ensure a victory. It sure didn't for her brother.
As soon as our escort reads the name of the boy from the tiny slip, I shout, "I volunteer!" as loud as I can.
Everyone clears the way for me so that I have a straight path to the stage. I smirk at the crowd when I reach the microphone, confidently giving my name to the Capitol. It will soon be all over their magazines just like Celia; they should learn it early.
"My name's Andrew de Luce. Soon to be victor of the 77th Hunger Games!"
The square applauds me. Their faces are mostly proud and optimistic. It's nice to know that my blind eye, despite causing problems at the Academy at first, has since been accepted. Everyone knows how capable I am.
"How wonderful!" the escort squeals. "Now, please shake hands."
Nikki and I do as we're told. She doesn't meet me eyes, instead staring at the ground. Everything after that is somewhat of a blur. A few minutes later, I'm sitting in the back of the Justice Building, waiting for my family.
Gregory is the first one to peek through the door. At only fourteen, his training for the Games is still in its preliminary stages, but he's coming along nicely. One day, we'll be a family of victors. Following him is the rest of my family.
"Fight the best you can, but only when you have to," Cadia advises me seriously. "Don't break the alliance early."
"I won't," I say, rolling my eyes. "I'm not an idiot."
"I know that, but you have to keep a good head on your shoulders. Literally."
We hug, and Fiona comes next. She looks a little upset, and I soon realize why.
"I'm sorry I stole your ring. I just wanted you to take this instead." She hands me a small moose plushie that I recognize from the store down the street. We used to play with stuffed toys like this when we were younger. Something softens within me and I take it gently, smiling.
"Thank you, Fiona."
She smiles back and leans forward to hug me tightly, but I tickle her instead and she shrieks. Maybe I will miss her a little bit while I'm gone. I comfort myself with the thought that this isn't the last time I'll see her laugh.
My parents give me more advice about the Games, but also about how to nab some sponsors. The Capitolites will likely know the company they work for and might even own some of their luxury boats. It's not a bad idea to bring it up in my interview.
I make Gregory promise me he'll stay training while I'm gone, though he'll want to stay inside and watch me on TV. I'm going to miss him as well.
"Don't forget what we look like while you're gone," Fiona tells me sarcastically before they leave, tossing me the ring I was originally going to bring into the arena with me. I'm not prepared for the throw and it hits me directly in the face, causing her to break into laughter as the door closes behind her. Sighing deeply, but not without a smile, I put the ring in my pocket, knowing I'm not going to wear it anymore. The moose will have to do.
Nicolette "Nikki" Anderson (18)- D4F
My parents don't let up on the training even in the Justice Building. I'm drilled with survival tips and combat strategies until the moment they leave, when my mother seems to remember to tell me she loves me. Dad does so as well before the Peacekeepers close the door.
I sigh and put my face into my hands. Maybe this won't be so bad. I'll finally have some time away from my parents, maybe feel a connection to Marcus and what he went through. Even if I don't survive, I will be closer to him than we ever were before he died, when we were just naive children who knew nothing of the world or even our own parents.
Speaking of Marcus, I reach into my pocket and produce a gold chain. My parents hadn't wanted me to bring his old token into the Games with me, claiming it was bad luck. But I had managed to sneak it out of their bedroom, where they keep it locked away in the dresser. I clasp it around my neck, gently touching it with my fingertips. Maybe I can finally have some peace.
The door bangs open again, revealing the last person I want to see.
"Dareon!" I shout, jumping to my feet.
"Nikki," he pleads, using the sensitive-boy voice he's used on me for years. "You're going away for so long, and I'll have nothing but a flat version of you to look at on the TV. And you're anything but flat in real life… How am I supposed to live without you?"
"Get lost," I snarl, balling up my fists.
"I really just want something to remember you by…"
That's when he leans forward to kiss me, not for the first time. But this time I've had too long of a day. Before he can grab my shoulder, I snatch his wrist with both hands and do as I've practiced for years. It makes a satisfying snapping sound, and as he howls in pain, I slam my fist into his face for good measure.
"That will give you something to remember me by," I mutter under my breath as the Peacekeepers burst inside. They look at me accusingly, but just drag Dareon out of the room. Now that I'm a tribute, that can't do anything to me.
I glance at the specks of blood on my knuckles. Not a bad start to my journey.
Hellooooo everyone! I'm sorry this update is so late; I was busier today than I thought I would be. I wrote this as quickly as I could so that I could upload it. So this is it for the Careers! I'm having so much fun writing this story and I hope you guys are having fun reading it.