Okay, so last chapter was WAY too long, I got a little carried away, the tributes were so good :) You guys sent a load of awesome reviews to last chapter, thanks! So, here's the District 8 Reaping, featuring tributes from EthanW32 and maddymellark as well as any escort from tracelynn. Thanks for submitting and I hope I did your tributes justice!
Cad Silk – District 8 Male
Age: 17
"I'm small, smart, and serious when I say I'll do whatever I need to, to get home."
"Sign our petition!" Oliver calls across the schoolyard, "Help support FREE travel between the Districts!"
We've been out here for an hour with no luck. People just aren't interested. I struggle to think of any reasons why someone wouldn't want to be involved with our petition. Who wouldn't want free travel between the districts?
"Maybe people are worried about the peacekeepers?" I say quietly. I only talk in quiet tones.
"Cad, you're over-analysing again, you think too much," says Oliver. We're exact opposites, I'm quiet and he's loud. He does enough talking for the both of us.
I nod at him and he smiles weakly, "Hey, maybe we should pack up, people don't seem to be signing, peacekeepers or not," he says.
We pack up, which doesn't take long, we only brought some set-up chairs and a notice board. As we walk home, between the smoky factories of District 8, a girl walks up to us.
"Hey, I'm Wanda." She says holding out her hand. I shake it.
"You guys were the ones doing the petition right?" she asks.
"Yeah, are you interested?" Asks Oliver, passing her the form.
"Definitely! I've always wanted to go to the mountains at 12," says Wanda excitedly as she scrawls her name. "Oh, and the great lakes out at 9, it would be such an adventure!" She squeaks, passing me back the form. She smiles at us and leaves.
Great, now our petition has three names on it. We're a 333,333.333th of the way to getting this published in the Capitol. The President's unreasonable but not impossibly so. At the moment, he's refusing to pass it, but if we get a million signatures, we can advertise in the Capitol.
"Dude! She was sooo into you!" Oliver says, super enthusiastically.
"What? No, she wasn't," Girls are never into boys like me. Boys like Oliver are there kind of thing.
"Uh, yeah she was, she was so excited about-" He starts.
"Mountains and Lakes," I whisper, cutting him off.
"No man. She was excited to be near you!" Sometimes Oliver gets a little over the top. Talking for hours is his forte, listening is mine, so we make a good team.
I smirk and shake my head, I've never seen that girl before and I'll probably never see her again, District 8 is that big. I'm very observant though, maybe I'll see her at the reapings…
"Well, at least we got a signature," says Oliver as we start walking again.
We live on the same street, about five kilometres from the closest school – eight has about twenty of them and none are any good – which is part of the reason why we're friends. I listen to Oliver chatting the whole way home, about sport, our petition, what it would be like to go to District 2, how his dad got a job at one of the top factories. Like always, I manage to keep him talking without saying a word.
Oliver is the kind of guy that is fit and good-looking, the kind of guy that could survive a Bloodbath. If he was born in 2, he'd be a career, it's just the kind of body he's got. Many people are surprised when they see him hanging out with me, I'm a scrawny nerd apparently. Though Oliver is a lot smarter than people think, maybe even smarter than me, he is going to top this week's test.
We part ways and he crosses the dirt lane over to his house. When he gets to the door he turns around and calls across the street, "You didn't even get her number!"
I smile… Idiot.
Oliver is my only friend, really. I have other people I hang out with, I guess. But we aren't as close as Oliver and I. I don't trust many people, well not completely. There's Oliver and then my grandparents. My parents, you ask? Yeah, well that's not exactly a possibility.
I walk down the rest of the lane slowly. Scuffing my cheap canvas shoes in the dry gravel. Some people can afford the kind of shoes they send to the Capitol, not us though. My grandparents buy the cheapest one's they can find, I don't blame them, shoes are of little value in life, – oxymoron, yeah I know – they aren't the key to a happy one.
I knock on the door and take a step back. If anything, living with my grandparents has taught me etiquette. According to Mrs. Flax, I'm the politest student in the District. Nice, but not the kind of compliment people are impressed by.
My grandma opens the door. She's sixty and you can tell. She used to have blonde hair but now it's just… not blonde. People go grey because of stress all the time and after… Well, let's just say she has had a lot of stress in her life.
She smiles at me, full on, ear to ear and pulls me into a hug. "Danny, he's home!" she calls out. Danny, that's my grandpa. I've only been gone six-seven hours, my grandparents must love me a lot, I guess. They couldn't stand losing me. Every year, after the reapings, they throw a party to celebrate the fact that I wasn't reaped. Usually, the whole neighbourhood is invited, my Nan & Pop like to celebrate everyone. Last year it was a private occasion though, Little Jonnie Garments from down the road was reaped.
I've never enjoyed these parties. Parties aren't really my thing, I like peace and quiet. I've been invited to birthday parties before, lots of them. But I've never actually went to them, I'd prefer to stay at home and read about District 3.
District 3? What, Don't I live in 8? Yeah, I do. History isn't my kind of thing, I'm a dreamer. People often say I should've been born in 3, that's why I want to pass this petition… I could move to 3!
My pop walks over to the door and pulls me into a hug, "I missed you, son," he says with a sad smile on his face. Reminiscing about my mother probably. Again, it's only been a few hours.
Instead, I just say, "You too pops,"
Lacey-Paige Rylem
Age: 15
"My skies are dark and my days are grey, for I have no love to light my way"
I sit in my bedroom facing the wall. There's a book between my hands but I'm not reading. My eyes are glued on the pink wallpaper, decorated with floral designs. It's pretty really, the way the flowers connect, intertwining with each other, creating intricate pathways along the walls.
I can hear them downstairs yelling.
I don't know why, I can never quite figure it out, something is wrong though.
I glance down at the book in my hands. 'A History of the Hunger Games' it reads. I haven't paid much attention to the book, sometimes I read without reading, the information flies straight over my head and down the drain.
I hear them yelling louder, then a smashing sound. Sometimes the arguments get… complicated, that's when you hear the smashing sounds.
I stand up and place the book on my chair. Dragging my hand along the patterns on the wall, I walk over to my bedside table. There's a phone there. Penny's number is written on a post-it note, a splash of fluorescent yellow against the lacquered mahogany of the bedside table.
I am the mayor's daughter, that's why I have such a nice room. And a nice house. I'm lucky, others are less fortunate, that's what my nurse says.
I don't look at it that way though. "Think of the starving kids in 12 or in the poorer parts of eight," My nurse might say. At least they have someone that loves them. "Not all of them, some of them have lost their parents, you've still got yours" My parents can't be called parents, you talk to me more than them. "They're busy, they have important jobs," She might say… My mum doesn't work.
I don't think I'm selfish, you might think that, but what do you know? You don't have my parents.
I call Penny now, when I need to talk to someone, my nurse tells me to talk to her.
People say we're like two peas in a pod, Penny and I. She's 26, a good 11 years older than me and my sister-in-law but apart from that we're very similar. Her parents were… like mine as well.
"Hey darling, what's up?" says Penny, her voice crackling through the phone. Unlike most people in District 8, we have a phone, or a lame excuse of one, the closest phone tower is in District 6 and that's a long way away.
"Dad…" I whisper into the receiver.
"Oh," she replies.
The line goes silent for a bit, and then I hear Penny's crackly voice say, "I'll come over, I'll bring Nat and Marcus, okay?"
I don't reply so she just says, "See you soon," and hangs up.
I sit there silently for a bit, still holding the receiver to my ear.
I hear my parents downstairs, still yelling. This might go on for a very long time.
I lie on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. It's pink as well, though devoid of floral patterns. It looks so clean and empty. Like it's lonely, all by itself. As I stare up at it, it stares down at me. We're so very alike, well apart from the fact that it's an inanimate object…
I hear the doorbell ring and the yelling stop. I hear my dad say "Shit," and then I hear the creak of our door opening. I've always been fascinated by our door, it's carved very intricately, even more so than the flowers on my wall.
I hear a discussion downstairs. "Nathaniel-Twine Batik Rylem, why on earth are you here?" I hear my mother ask. I slip off my bed and onto the floor, holding my ear to the carpet, I listen.
"Oh, I'm so sorry mother. My sister gave us a call, she wanted to she wanted to play with Marcus, you know how she dotes on him." Says my brother, polite as ever.
"Yes, of course, I knew that." I hear my mother say. That's a blatant lie, I doubt she even knows my name.
I hear footsteps coming up the staircase and see my door slowly creek open. "Lacey-Paige, you have a visitor," It's my nurse.
I smile at her and head towards the door, I'm not allowed to have other people in my room. She's tried to teach me social skills before. Smiling politely is as far as I've ever gotten.
Penny stands in the waiting room with my mother, who's frowning. "Lindsay-Paige, why did you invite your brother over? Did I ask you too?" Asks my mother glaring at me. Point proven, my name is Lacey-Paige.
She nags my father constantly, I need a break from her constant whining. I wish I could tell her that, instead I say, "Sorry mother, Penny told me she had a book she wanted to read and I wanted to see Marcus's adorable baby face." That's not far from the truth. That has to be the longest sentence I've said all week.
"Very well, I'll make some tea. Nathaniel dear, please come help." My mother says with a faked smile.
I look up and see my father coming down the stairs, a sad smile worn into his ageing face. "Good Morning Penny," he says. It's mid-afternoon.
I was once told my parents were in love. Long ago… Now though, I'd say they might as well be enemies.
Crucis Nairn
Age: 27
"Oh, I just can't wait, to be king"
Emanuel is a fool, a big one. If he thinks for a second that he's going to be the new president, he's a fool. He thinks I'm helping him, he pays me for advice on his campaign, really, I should be paying him. He's my… figurehead.
During my stay in District 5, I managed to persuade him to run for President. It wasn't hard, he lived a lame excuse for a life and his wife was an utter bitch, he was already searching for a way out. He thinks that if he becomes President he can end the Hunger Games, it's a far-fetched vision, I'll give him that. As soon as the upcoming election has been decided, I'll take over the presidency. Confident much? Yes, yes I am. Emanuel is ruling the polls for Presidency, almost 50% of the populations said that they're going to vote for him, the only real contender is that wicked old hag Dawn. And what if, you ask, what if Emanuel doesn't hand over presidency? He'll have to, he's walked right into my trap and if somehow he manages to get out well then I'll… Well, then I'll… I'll tear him a new one!
I don't mind to blow my own trumpet but I am quite a despicable genius… Crucis Nairn, President of Panem! Who doesn't like the sound of that?
I crunch into my apple, clear juice particles splatter on the walls. This apple is good, nice and juicy, just how I like it.
The door is swung open and Emanuel walks in. He's wearing a suit. Plain black with a white undershirt, simple but effective, he looks neat but simple, so I'm not surprised the Capitol like him. I'm not jealous, no, all his successes are mine.
I start to talk, normally Emanuel wants to learn as much as he can about politics in the short time he has. "Don't talk," says Emanuel.
I smile and nod, spitting an apple seed across the room. It hits the wall and bounces into the rubbish bin. Emanuel glares at me, "My house, my rules. This isn't a mi casa su casa apartment. No eating food on the carpet."
For a District citizen, Emanuel acts oddly… empowered.
"Switch on the reapings," he says, "I've only got a few hours, I'm expected in 5 soon."
"Who are you, bossing me around?" I ask. I can't stand when people get like this.
"I'm paying you," Emanuel says with a sarcastic smile as he hangs his suit jacket over the edge of the couch. We'll see who's in charge when the elections over, I think slyly. I just can't wait to be king…
I flick the screen on anyway, for now Emanuel has the perception he's in charge and there's nothing wrong with that.
The District 10 Reapings are on at the moment. A good-looking young man stands on the stage, he must be the male tribute… I have the faintest feeling I've seen him before. Next to him stands Jenning Kyte, reading a name from a ticket. Jenning is an odd… Woman? Man? She'll be insulted no matter what you call her, that's why no one calls her anything. She doesn't seem to have a problem with that either.
The camera pans down to a girl. She looks a bit funky to me, her skin is blotchy, so much that you can tell she doesn't wear any make-up, disgraceful behaviour. She smiles and skips up to the stage, oddly happy considering she's just been delivered a death sentence. District 8 comes on next. The entertainment division is doing the reapings in a different order this year, keeps the people on their toes apparently, not knowing which District will come next.
The District square is full of citizens dressed in clothing, varying in colour. The citizens of District 8 wear colourful clothes, considering they're one of the poorer Districts. I like 8, they always supply awesome Bloodbath tributes, I'm looking forward to these games. They'll be my last games of being a regular citizen, next time around I'll be president.
I can't wait for the blood to start flowing.
Cad Silk – District 8 Male
Age: 17
"I'm small, smart, and serious when I say I'll do whatever I need to, to get home."
5, 4, 3, 2, 1! Let the Games Begin!
She runs towards the cornucopia, a massive golden horn full of goodies. Her legs flail as she sprints, weapons smile at her, their shiny blades gleaming. They scream her name. Her husband runs after her, prepared to fight off any threats, his fists in the air.
They don't want to kill, they're doing this for their son, he needs to live.
She goes down first, a dagger to her thigh thrown by one of the careers causes her to fall over. She screams in agony as she falls. Wrenching the knife out of her thigh, she passes it to her husband. 2 comes at them, a smile chiselled into his blood-covered face, wielding a spear. He grimaces and throws the spear at the wounded girl. It plants itself in her chest, puncturing her heart. BOOM!
'Diana, NOOOOO!' cries the husband, tears streaming down his face.
"NOOO!" I scream, writhing in my sheets. "NO, PLEASE, NO!" I wail.
My door is flung open and my pop comes in, dressed in his pyjamas. He sees me, tangled in my bedsheets. "It's okay," he says soothingly.
I turn over and look at him. His frail figure, hunched slightly from over-working is lighted in my doorframe. His brown eyes that seem to pop out of his face and his dull grey hair with bald spots falls messily above his forehead, his hairline receding. I give him a weak smile and he closes the door, to give me privacy.
I roll onto the floor and attempt to break free from my entanglement. After a minutes worth of struggling, I manage to stand up. My body is sweat-soaked, little yellow stains under my arms.
I don't have that dream very often. Only when I'm stressed really… And always the night before the reaping.
My mother gave birth to me when she was very young, 17 I think. She lived in the part of 8 where contraception hadn't quite hit. My father and she must have hit it off one night. My Grandfather said he was a good man and that Diana (That's my mother) was lucky to find someone as pure and loving as him. He must've been a nice guy. A year after my birth, she was reaped… My mother was reaped.
Whenever this comes up in conversation, my grandparents try desperately to change the topic. They don't like talking about it. They haven't told me much about my parents but I've gathered bits and pieces from neighbours and I've seen some replays of the finale. Not that they made it that far.
It was the 87th Hunger Games. My mother was reaped and my father, being the man he was volunteered. He wanted to save her, bring her home so that she could take care of the baby, at least that was the plan. She died in the bloodbath, speared by a career, no one remembers which one. Some people say my father gave up after her death, died in the bloodbath as well, crying over his partner's corpse. Others say he fought honourably until the end, dying just before the finale. I'm not sure which version I believe, or which I want to believe. All I know is my parents are dead.
That dream I just had, that's my version of how it might have happened… I've never gotten past that bit, that's always when the dream ends.
I tear the sweat-soaked sheets from my bed and throw them into a pile on the ground. My shirt goes there as well and I stroll shirtless out of my room. I walk to the kitchen, kind of like sleep-walking I guess. It didn't feel like I was controlling my body.
I'd never say this out loud, but the Capitol is evil. Everyone says that, right? I guess, but not many people have a personal stake in this like I do. The Capitol have tyranny over the Districts. It shouldn't be that way. People that are reaped should express their feelings, live, while everyone's watching. It would be the perfect insult to the Capitol, I mean, turning their weapon against themselves, wouldn't that be perfect. If I was reaped I'd make sure to voice my opinions. Well, I say that now…
I grab a glass from the cupboard and pour some water in. It's an ugly brown colour, like always. Clear water is unheard of around here.
The water slides down my oesophagus in 3 gulps. It's refreshing, despite its colour it is still water.
I sit down on the bench, my lanky legs dangling towards the ground, pulled by the force of gravity. I wonder what my parents would be like if they were still alive today. Would they be generous and kind? Or would they be strict and grumpy, having stopped loving each other long ago? I don't know and frankly, I don't care.
I put the glass down on the bench and head back to my room. I sit on my bed, I'm not going back to sleep. The reapings are tomorrow and I have to be wary. Staying awake isn't the most effective way, but I've got a feeling the nightmare will return.
And there's no way I'm gonna let it do that.
Lacey-Paige Rylem – District 8 Female
Age: 15
"My skies are dark and my days are grey, for I have no love to light my way"
I was told once that I'm introverted. I spend all my time concentrating on my own life and spend little time socialising. It's just what I do. You can interpret that in multiple ways, you could say I'm selfish or simply solitary. I don't care. If you leave me alone, I don't have to think about you.
When my brother left yesterday the house felt cold… Empty, I felt alone. Sometimes, I feel like Marcus is a nuisance, crying and whatnot but yesterday was special. Maybe I could move in with them. 15 isn't exactly old enough, though… Oh and I'm the daughter of the mayor, I wouldn't want to 'tarnish' his name.
I stand in front of my cupboard. It's full. Very full. There are so many options and I don't know what to do. It's not that I'm fussy, I just couldn't care less. I grab the closest item, a little pink dress complete with frills. I remember my father bought this for me long ago, one of the times we were visiting the Capitol. The lady at the counter said it was simple and plain, in 8 though, it's odd and abstract.
I slip into it quickly, burying any worries. I won't be reaped today, being the mayor's daughter does have its advantages.
I skip downstairs and out the door, I'm in a happier mood today. Meeting with Penny always cheers me up.
I open our door, the spectacular one with intricate carvings and step outside. My friend Bethany stands there, wearing a bright red dress, "Lacey! Come with, the results are up!" she chirps.
"Oh," is all I say.
She grabs my hand and pulls me down the stairs. We had a test at school a few days back. I've expressed interest in the results, that's why Bethany's so excited. She says that sometimes I can be dull and awkward. Yet another person telling me I need help with my social skills.
We run along to the school. Its fences are high and spiked, keeping out any intruders. The rain falls down on us, the weather isn't good today. The main gate is open and Bethany pulls me through.
We stand in the middle of the schoolyard. There is a crowd of students surrounding the noticeboard. "Come on," Bethany says, pulling me forward.
I stand on the outside of the crowd, peering over others shoulders to get a good look at the chart. People chat excitedly, even though the reapings are today. There are two columns, Boys & Girls. At the top of the boy's column is… Oliver Barnes? I think that's what it says. The girl's column has my name at the top, damn, I got the highest score.
"WOW! You did amazing!" Squeaks Bethany. "Hey, maybe we could go to the bakery before the reapings, what do you reckon?" She asks.
I shake my head, we should probably get to the reapings. Bethany frowns, "ya know, you should probably try talking more often. It isn't bad for your health!"
Skyletsa Rutger – District 8 Escort
Age: 41
I stand on the stage looking glorious. My nails shine with radiance. All the colours of the rainbow; red; orange; yellow; green; blue; indigo; and violet. Ooh! I look fantastic. My whole body is rainbow really! I've got a wig! I've got nails! I've got makeup!
I stare up at the sky. It's raining right now. Haha! Isn't that a coincidence! I hope there's a rainbow!
Yes, I'm a little nervous, don't rub it in. It's not because I'm new or anything, no I've worked as an escort for 15 years! No, it's because my job might be in danger. There's a new head gamemaker you see and he's picky. He's going to watch the reapings and keep only the best escorts on. If I don't prove myself, well then I'll be fired. It's probably because I'm old… You wouldn't know it though, apparently I don't look a second older than 26!
Dawn Angelica, the previous head gamemaker was such a sweetheart. She was older than me, so I guess she sympathised. Older escorts are quite an oddity. She's running for president now, for sure she'll get it.
I look down into the crowd. I'm about to start, I would have already if the tributes weren't late. After President Snow's death, the peacekeepers have become oddly relaxed. The houses around the square are dirty and you can tell half the citizens haven't washed in days. It could be worse, at least these people have a taste in clothing. I hear in District 12 they all wear brown! Oh, now that would be unpleasant.
One of the peacekeepers down the back looks at me and nods. It's time to begin.
"Ladies and Gentleman! Welcome to the Reaping of the 103rd Annual Hunger Games!" I say, my voice echoing around the square. I met with dull stares. I admit, I wouldn't be happy if I was about to be sent into the Hunger Games. But I can't stand angry tributes! Last years boy was a monstrosity! He had everything, anger management problems, dyslexia and ADHD, he had such a bad temper. I hope I don't get any repeats of him this year. He died in the bloodbath.
I introduce the mayor and the previous victors. There aren't many, District 8 has never been very successful in the Hunger Games. Our most memorable victor would have to be Calico Johan, he won the 75th Hunger Games somehow. The head gamemaker decided all the tributes were to be disabled, which didn't go down to well in the Capitol. It's cruel and inhumane, we people can't stand stuff like that.
I read out the formalities. A public announcement of our President's death, a video from the Capitol and the highlights of last year's games. All mandatory viewing.
"Now, for the tributes!" I say. I know the citizens don't like suspense and I'm not going to torture them.
I strut over to the female bowl. "Girls first!" I chirp.
I dip my hand in and grasp a slip. "Lacey-Paige Rylem!"
I hear someone wail, it's the mayor. "Whatever is your problem Batik?" I ask as I turn to face him.
"That… That's my daughter," he says quietly. Oh dear, that's quite a shame.
I look out into the crowd, searching for this year's female tribute. A 15-year-old starts to walk forward. She's quite pretty, she reminds me of one of those porcelain dolls, pale creamy skin with rosy red cheeks. It won't be hard to get her sponsors.
"SOMEONE VOLUNTEER! PLEASE!" The mayor calls, standing up on his seat. He is ignored, no one's going to volunteer. That stuff doesn't happen in District 8.
"Would you like to say anything?" I ask the girl. She shakes her head.
"Okay, boys next!" I say as I strut over to the bowl on the opposite side of the stage.
I snatch a ticket from the top and peel off the tape. "Cad Silk!"
Cad Silk – District 8 Male
Age: 17
"I'm small, smart, and serious when I say I'll do whatever I need to, to get home."
And just like that, my future was taken away from me.
Everything I had ahead of me in life, all of it… gone. These people, they have no thought for others. This lady, Skyletsa, probably doesn't even care about us. She's paying more attention to her god damn wig than the tributes.
I hear my grandparent's cries. I feel so bad for them, they're going to lose yet another child. That's no way to think of it. I can get home, it's not that far-fetched. I just have to do what they want, I have to put on a show.
I place one foot ahead of the other and eventually I get to the stage. I smile out at the crowd, I'm already formulating a plan to get home. "Would you like to say anything?" Asks our escort.
"Yes, yes I would," I tell her. Taking the microphone, I project my voice out into the crowd. "Don't worry guys, you'll be seeing me soon." It wasn't much, but at least it was something. The escort ushers us offstage and finishes off the ceremony.
Calico, the oldest living victor from our District approaches. "I like you guys. Don't give up hope," he says. "Okay, so guys, you have 10 minutes for goodbyes. Make it count."
Lacey-Paige and I head towards the Justice Building. It stands tall and proud among the ramshackle houses of our District. Flying banners of the Capitol.
Oliver was the first to visit, he was very supportive, telling me I had what it takes to win. He said I was brave and smart, I could easily outwit the other tributes. He's right, in a way… I'm playing this game to the end.
I make him promise to keep the petition going. It has to continue, even without me. Free Travel should be a right.
The only other visitors I have are my grandparents. My grandmother is upset, tears are streaming down her face, leaving messy marks. "Please don't go Cad, we need you!" she cried. For her, for my grandfather, for Oliver, for the District and for my parent's memory, I will be back.
My grandfather stood there, off to the side. He was upset as well, but he tried to stay strong. He's always been the father I never had. I bring them both in for a hug and then they are taken away.
I don't know if I'll ever see them again or if they'd ever see me again. Though one thing is for certain, there'd be no party this year.
Did you like it?
Who'd you prefer? Cad or Lacey-Paige?
Both characters were very similar, quiet and introverted, I guess they'll make a good team.
I tried to express Lacey-Paige's introversion by starting most of the non-speech paragraphs with 'I', expressing that she concentrates a lot about herself. And she probably came across WAY more depressed than I intended… Whoops :)
Also, I hope the latter part of this chapter wasn't too bad. I was kinda rushed, so it might be a bit bad or even incomprensible.
So, I'm going on holidays now and I won't be able to do much writing, so don't expect an update for at least another week. I'll try and keep up to date with reviewing, it just won't be as often.
Oh, and make sure you check out my collection of victor one-shots: A Brief History of the Golden Period
Until Next Time :D
