Chemical Bomb by Aquabats

Back in this world of humankind
I think we've already lost our minds

Pre-Reapings Part Five

Vera Hemley, 17, District One

I sigh and spin my chair around at my desk, smiling as the room swirls around me. It's only late morning and I already feel like I am ready to go back to bed. If there's nothing better to do in a few hours maybe I will sneak in a short nap.

"Vera? Are you up yet?" I can hear my mother clambering up the stairs, her heels clicking against the tile floor as she walks.

"Yes, Mom," I call back. Seconds later she opens the door, her face somewhat flushed underneath the deep layers of makeup that she has already spread on despite the rather early hour.

"Vera, did you not hear me calling you?" She asks, leaning against the door frame elegantly. I can't really understand how but everything my mother does could probably be described as elegant. She is a beautiful woman and looks like she could be my older sister despite having just celebrated her forty-third birthday last month.

I'm pleased that I was blessed with her looks, not that having my father's brownish hair and dark eyes would have been terrible either. A good majority of the girls in District One have the same beautiful features that my mother and I share. Tall with blonde hair and a slender frame. I wish I would have inherited my mother's green eyes as well as her hair, but she always tells me that my light brown eyes make me stand out from the other girls.

"I answered you," I smile and she purses her lips.

"I didn't hear you, I guess," she brushes it off and continues. "Your father wanted to know if you had a chance to look at the new book her gave you last night."

"Of course I have," I lie and I can feel my face heating up. When my father came back from his office last night he brought home a medical journal for the third time this week. In all honesty I am still working on the first, though I skimmed the second yesterday morning since I knew that with it being his only day off he would want to discuss it. If she is asking about it that means he's home and wants to talk about it. Not good.

"He's been home sick with a cold all morning, he was wondering if you wanted to discuss it later when you've finished your morning studying," she says with a smile. In all honesty I am impressed that she is able to keep up that cheery disposition about this. Although it has been months since I told them both that I wanted to study to become a doctor, I know I broke her heart.

I think it is fair to say that my mother's biggest dream for me was that I would be as successful as her. In all honesty that probably is my biggest dream as well, but I see it a little bit differently than she does. I don't want to just marry into success and riches. I want to make my own, like my father did. I don't think I was ever made to just be something nice for my husband to look at while he counted his money. It would bore me to death to be nothing more than a trophy wife.

"I'll go down in a little while, I just need to finish this chapter," I reply. "Is he in his office?"

"Of course," she laughs. "Where else would he be if he is at home?"

I join in her laughter. It's true that my father has been and always will be the hardest working man I have ever seen. He works six days a week, only taking Wednesdays off for the past ten years, for over ten hours a day at the largest hospital in District One. When he isn't at work he is at home, writing up his own journals in hopes that someday he will be able to send one or two in for publishing.

I definitely got my medical know-how from him. Especially during the war, I learned more than I probably ever would have been able to otherwise. I mean, of course I spent many afternoons flipping through my father's journals and some older ones that he's kept lying around his office. But during the war one of the only things to be hit hard by the Capitol bombings was our hospital.

Thankfully, my father and some of the other doctors were able to salvage a lot of the equipment from the ruins- some even had old equipment in their houses for whatever reason- and they all set up temporary hospitals in their homes. After watching my father treat patients for over a month he asked me if I wanted to help out and the rest is history. I fell in love with helping people and the power I had to do well for them when they needed it most.

"Also I am making lunch and it will be ready in about half an hour so come down for that before you and your father get into one of those long discussions," she tells me. "I'm making your favourite, chilli and homemade bread."

"Thanks, I'll remember to come down." I let my eyes fall back down to the textbook I have spread out on my desk and she takes the cue to leave, shutting the door quietly behind her. As soon as I hear her shoes clicking down the stairs I get up and rush over to my nightstand, pulling open the top drawer and grabbing the journal.

I cringe when I realize how thick the book is. There is no way I will be able to get through much of it before my father will be expecting me in his office. Hopefully he'll take the excuse that I could only get through the first few sections this morning along with my normal textbook readings. I really hate to have to lie to him again.

Dallas Audrinne, 17, District Five

"Okay next question," Amian says between giggles, pressing her hand to her lips as if in deep thought. "Gwyn, would you rather spend a night with Mathias or Tallen?"

The three of us explode into another fit of laughter at the very thought of having to decide. This question always seems to come up in during our games of Ask and Tell. Not because the two boys are both equally irresistible, well I guess they are in some sense. They are both around the zero mark on the irresistibility scale.

"I always get this one that's not fair," Gwyn whines and Amian doesn't even pause in her laughter. Neither of us has to explain to Gwyn that she has no choice but to answer, it's the name of the game after all. Someone asks a question and you tell them the answer, no matter what.

"Fine," she groans. "Tallen."

"Ew!" I exclaim, even the thought of my pretty friend having to spend even a moment with the greasy-haired boy from school making me sick and amused at the same time.

"Okay I answered, my turn," Gwyn grins and turns to Amian.

"Me again?" Amian sighs. "Come on, pick Dallas this time this is getting unfair."

"Amian," Gwyn says, appearing to not even have heard her plea. "If a wealthy man asked you to run away with him and get married, but never see anyone you know ever again, would you do it?"

I watch as all the blood runs from my friends face and I can't help but feel a little bit bad for her. It is no secret that she has lived in one of the poorest regions of District Five for her entire life, but her family is everything to her and more. While she always fantasizes about breaking out of the cycle that her family has been in fro generations, I'm not sure she would be able to cope without her sisters.

"No," she sighs. "I don't think I could do that."

There is a bit of silence after she says that and I wonder if the game is over now. There is always a time when one of us goes a bit too far, but I didn't think Gwyn's question was enough to make Amian want to quit. This is probably her favourite game and it is usually her who suggests it.

"Dallas," she says finally and I perk up again. Truth be told, I like this game as well even if I often pretend I hate it. This also means Amian isn't too upset, which is always a plus. She's generally the most sensitive of the three of us and Gwyn and I sometimes find it difficult to bite our tongues.

"If you had the chance to visit your parents, would you do it?"

This time I'm sure it is my face that goes pale. My eyes immediately fly to the floor, the discomfort of looking at either of my friends simply too much for me to handle. Why would she ask me that? She knows. Is she trying to be a bitch right now because it sure seems like it.

I can feel my body shaking and squint my eyes just in case I might cry. My parents are a sensitive subject, both of them know that. "I have to go, I promised my aunt I would be home early tonight to help with dinner."

"Oh come on Dallas don't go," Gwyn calls after me as I get up to grab my bag. "She didn't mean anything by it."

"I'm sorry you don't have to answer!" Amian tries, but I am already several feet away with no intention of turning back. I mean what do they expect, really?

"I'll see you guys later," I call back without turning around.

They know better than to try to come after me and so I walk the ten minutes to my aunt's house in comforting loneliness. It's nearly five o'clock so Aunt Margeaux and her daughter, Fami, are already there are preparing dinner. I don't bother to ask where Rowler is because neither of them are likely to know anyway. He prefers to go for walks alone when he gets back from work or school, that is just how he is.

"Dallas, you're home early." My aunt greets me as soon as I slip in the back door. She is standing at the kitchen counter with a peeler in one hand and a half-prepped potato in the other. Fami also looks up from where she is chopping up carrots at the dining table and smiles when she sees me.

"Gwyn had to go visit her grandmother so I figured that I would leave as well," I nod. "Do you need any help?"

"You can help Fami with the vegetables," Aunt Margeaux says, motioning towards the kitchen table. "Make sure you chop them nice as thin so they cook quicker."

I sit down across from my cousin and pick up a broad knife and a handful of celery. While I would obviously much rather be hanging out with my friends, I never really mind spending time with my aunt's family. Especially helping with things like preparing dinner or doing the cleaning. It makes me feel like I'm more part of the family than just a freeloader with nowhere else to go. Aunt Margeaux insists that she loves having me here but it's hard for me to see that. After all who would want to take care of the daughter of two convicts?

Verden Arell, 17, District Nine

"Lucky you, Verd," I hear the voice over my shoulder and I turn around to see Serder standing over me. The greasy, creepy owner of the grain mill is known for appearing out of nowhere to get a reaction. Having worked here for years, even over the wartime, I have gotten very used to it and I don't even flinch.

"Hello Serder," I nod politely and set the grinder down a notch so that it won't overheat.

"You're done for the day," he says, a dry cough interrupting him halfway through the statement. "I'm going to have Hector finish up for the day by himself."

"I was supposed to stay another hour and a half," I say, narrowing my eyes. I've always had set hours here, that is part of the reason why I've stayed here for so long. Having your hours set out each week is something that isn't common in jobs anymore, but despite Serder's demeanour he has always been good about it.

"Production's down this week, I can't afford you both, Verd."

"Send Hector home then," I say, trying to stay calm even as I feel my anger seething through the spaces between my teeth. "I need the money this week, we had to pay school dues on Tuesday."

"Sorry, Verd," Serder grunts. "Get a move on, I'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning."

"Serder," I try again. "Come on please, I need the hours this week."

"You still got plenty more than the others, Verd," he reminds me. "Sorry, my hands are tied you have to go early tonight."

I throw my gloves down on the ground and head out to the back room to collect my bag. I've been loyal to Serder for years, that's why I have the longer hours than the other workers. They've only been here a few months except for Lex, who started three months after I did. This is damn unfair of Serder, he knows I need the hours.

I rip my bag off of the hook in the corner of the room and ignore Serder as he comes in behind me. I know it's bad of me to be angry with him, but at this point I don't really care. It's been years that I have been with him. I deserve every privilege he gives me.

I storm past Hector to get out of the mill and he nods in my direction with an apologetic look. I don't even acknowledge him even though I know he isn't the one to blame in this situation. I leave the mill without another word to either of them.

It's only about a fifteen minute walk to get home, and the chill of the night manages to take some heat off of my anger before I get home. When I walk in the door the house is just as dark as it always is. It's hardly eleven now, but I know that Narelle and Pavla will have gone to their rooms by ten. Mom probably turned in early as well, she's slept a lot more than she used to lately. Silly me to think she might have finally come to some sort of terms with what happened. Neither her nor Pavla seem to have found the ability to forgive me quite yet.

I walk past the girls' door and I can hear whining from inside. I stop right outside the door and listen closer. Yes, definitely Narelle. I enter the room without knocking and my eyes skim over Pavla's bed where my fourteen-year old sister lays in a deep sleep.

In the bed across from her, Narelle tosses and turns with her hands balled into fists and her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Without even having to wake her up and ask her I know she is having another nightmare, nothing new since they've been plaguing her for the past few months.

I gently shake her shoulders until her eyes fly open. She whispers my name and latches onto me and I can't help but smile. Nothing much nowadays seems to give me a reason to, but Narelle has a way of squeezing smiles out of me without even trying.

"Shh," I hear Pavla hiss from across the room. Narelle looks up at me and I shrug.

I lean down close to her and whisper as quietly as I can so that I don't annoy Pavla anymore. "Do you want to come sleep in my room tonight?"

Narelle nods softly, and with her big, tired eyes staring up at me I can tell that there was no way I was going to leave her behind anyway. I put one arm behind her knees and the other behind her back and lift her off of the bed. I kick the door open in front of me and shove it closed again with my foot. Narelle puts her hands over her mouth to keep from squealing in delight.

"What are you doing?" As soon as I hear the voice come from the crack in the next bedroom door I can feel the smile dissolving right off my face. I allow my steps to slow just a bit until I see my mother's eyes peeking through the crack.

"She had a bad dream again," I admit and now I even I can hear the tiredness in my voice again.

"Keep it down," she says shakily and her face disappears a second later. A moment later I realize that I am still standing in front of her bedroom with Narelle looking up at me expectantly. I try to force the smile back to my lips but it's gone, so I trudge the next few steps to my room. I place Narelle lightly on the bed and pull a pillow down onto the floor for myself, lighting a candle and setting it on the nightstand because I know she is still afraid of the dark.

Song: Chemical Bomb by Aquabats

A/N: Updating despite the fact that I am still in the middle of midterms. This chapter went quite quick for whatever reason, and I am pretty happy with how it turned out so I hope you all are as well.

You have now read about 15/24 of the tributes so only nine more (three chapters) to go before we start with the more interesting stuff! If you have the time a review with the questions below and any general comments about the writing would be very appreciated.

What do you think of these three tributes?

Who are your favourites out of all the tributes you have seen?

I have no idea when I will be updating next, hopefully not more than a week from now but I will just have to see. I have a pretty hectic schedule right about now but I will do my best not to take too long.