District Ten Reapings: Dazed and Confused
District Ten
Olive Colston, 15
I had another nightmare. It was different than usual. The images of the red meat and blood still cloud my mind. I always have nightmares. It shouldn't affect me. It usually doesn't, but I hoped for a pleasant dream just this one day. Or none at all. There are enough horrors beyond nightmares today.
My feet feel cold against the wood flooring of my room. I stand in front of my mirror as I braid my hair into twin French braids on each side of my head. It makes me look younger but it keeps my hair back, and that is all I really want. My eyes have dark circles under them that stand out extra well against my pale skin. Even though I've come accustomed to the nightmares it still has its negative affects on me. I've gotten over it.
For the reaping I'm wearing the nicely sewn blue dress my father had made for me. He is a tailor for the District so I was always fortunate enough to have a new dress for the Reaping. That is more than most. The baby blue compliments my blue-gray eyes. Or so my parents tell me.
When I'm changed, I leave my closet-sized room to enter the living room. Our home is small but I love it, and being an only child I don't have to share my room. The two-bedroom house is attached to the tailor's store my family owns and operates. With no one working for us, it is just the three of us. Simple and even a little bit dull but it's my life. Not everyone can have livestock; we still need the necessaries of a society.
My working time is mostly spent at the counter, helping people. It's a little lonely, sometimes my parents urge me to get out and hang out with other people my age. I just never minded this lifestyle. It isn't self-pitying or depressing, it is just how I prefer things.
I do have one friend, a pitiful number I know, an eighteen year-old male named Lloyd whose family owns the store next door. He always has an excuse to be in the store. I could kick him out for loitering around the store but he is good company.
"Mother?" I ask the empty room. The house is fairly small; I can't imagine why I can't find the two. They must be in the store. I walk through the door separating the store from the house to find the two talking. At first it doesn't seem to be an important discussion until I see the worry in my mother's eyes. I don't question it, not today.
"Ready to go?" I ask. My parents are quick to look normal, in attempts to elude my suspicion, and I pretend to be clueless.
"Of course, we're going to be late if we don't leave soon." My father says, he is a kind and hard-working man, but he enjoys his punctuality. My mother is much more easy-going.
"I'm ready," I say. We lock up the store, even with everyone being at the reaping, and join the numerous other families doing the dreadful walk to the middle of the District. Some people have a much longer distance to travel; lucky for us we are rather close. This is the worst part, after the reaping it gets a little better. Unless you knew the person who got reaped.
I never have known the person before, maybe just recognized their face or knew their friend. But I'm still so young, and not stupid enough to doubt the power the Games can have. No matter how much you try to disconnect yourself from it, you can never truly ignore its existence.
Because as soon as you do it will come from behind, and snatch you up.
"You barely have your name in that bowl, what is it? Eight?" Lloyd asks me as we stand close together in the roped off section.
"Seven," A little frustrated how close he was to the real number. I was lucky for that number and should be proud of it, but right now it only proves him right.
"See? You will be fine; my name is in there Fifteen times. Even that is nothing, some people have their names in there thirty times" He is trying to calm me down. We met up soon after my family left the store and then walked the rest of the way down here. His green eyes are rather calm, while my blue ones are panicked. I don't understand how he is so collected. I admire that about him.
"It only takes one slip of paper." I say.
"You will be fine."
"Don't jinx me," I say feeling a bit paranoid.
"Okay fine, I give up. Just try not to get too worked up, okay?" He asks and I nod. If anything I should be worried for him, his name is there double the times mine is.
Soon I see the escort walk onto the stage and know we need to separate now. We quickly exchange goodbyes and he gives me a quick peck on the top of my head. It shocks me. When he walks away I can still feel the pressure on my head where he did it. But it isn't in any romantic way, even if he were to like me that way; it was in a brotherly way.
I bite my lips nervously and find my place in the crowd silently.
When the escort and mayor speak I listen extra carefully, as if their words will be my salvation. I just want this to be over, it is always dragged on so long. The video this year is the same as always but each year seems to go slower and slower.
When the escort finally takes over the microphone again, I prepare myself for her to choose someone, someone in this crowd. It will be the girl first, it almost always is. Unless the escort tries to be unique.
"Lets get the fun started!" The escort says, her accent already bothering me.
She picks a slip of paper from one of the bowls. "And the female tribute is…" She unfolds the piece of paper. Her long nails having trouble. Come on already. I think anxious. "Olive Colston."
The color disappears from my skin and I refuse to breathe, it sounded a bit strange at first with her accent but it was not Olivia Colston or Olive Calston, it was Olive Colston she just read out.
By instinct I look to the male's section to find my one friend looking ready to do something awfully stupid. I don't want to move, so the Peacekeepers come for me. The crowd around me has given up my location up. I just stare at Lloyd. No tears, no whimpers, no anything. On either of my sides, a Peacekeeper grabs my arms and leads me to the stage.
"No!" I hear Lloyd shout, I always liked his extroverted personality but right now he really needs to shut up.
I swallow quickly and shake off the Peacekeepers to walk up on my own. This is my destiny now and I can't change this.
The escort is staring at me with her bright pink eyes, stupid colored contacts. She holds out her hand for me to grab, I give in and take her cold hand. She pulls me onto the stage and I feel my life here end.
"Introducing Olive Colston!"
District Ten
Felix Weston, 17
I stare down at the clothing laid out on my bed. I had just finished bathing and came to my room to find them here. The usual reaping outfit and it's new. I know I need to wear it; it would be a waste if I didn't. It isn't that my family can't afford it, because we can. Well my stepdad can. My mother hasn't worked a day in her pretty little life.
My disgust with wearing it isn't even that I'm too good for it, I just hate saying I can't wait to be independent and live on my own and then take all the things she tries to give me. It would simply be hypocritical.
After an internal debate, I give in and put on the clothing she got for me like a good little boy. It angers me. There never was a chance was there?
I move on and try not to focus to on how I yet again fell into my mother's wishes, but I can't let it go. It won't leave my mind. It goes on replay. Over and over. I get ready in anger. It takes little time. Nothing really to do, but by the end I am left bitter with the day. Bitter with the usual things and bitter with the fact I have to go to the reapings. I never cared much about the Games. Not really appreciating the concept, but something about it had me morbidly curious. The same feeling I get at work, not joy. A curiosity.
The reapings have come. I didn't spend much time at the house luckily, but I had to come to the Town Center with my mother and my stepfather. I've tried to get along with them and things never works. I think I just need someone to be angry with, to keep my brain churning. I guess that is why I hate the Capitol. The hate fuels me. The two of them are just so easy to hate.
I don't hate everything. I look over the aisle that separates males and females to find Annabelle, my twin sister. We've been told our brown hair, green eyes, and pale skin identical. We aren't identical twins of course, but we've been told we are the female and male versions of each other. As far as looks go. She is much more kind, sociable, non-judgmental, and overall more normal. She's the perfect kind of normal. It just reminds me to not allow my issues with my home life to become an excuse with the way I am. The way I feel, my anger and the things no one knows about. I tell most things to Annabelle, because she helps me make the most moral decisions. But some things I can't let her know, her idea of me too fragile already for me to say anything to make her hate me.
If Annabelle hates me I don't know what I would do.
I much rather be reaped.
Annabelle stands next to her best friends. They are close together and seem to be holding hands. Why can't I believe things like that? That if I close my hands and hope hard enough that everything will be fine. It wouldn't even calm me down.
"Lets get the fun started!" The escort says as she takes the stage. Everything goes the usual way, and I spend the time wondering who is going to get reaped. I think about how many times each person must have their names in there and so on. But we all have our names in there; some people are just in there more than others. I'm not nervous when the escort goes to pick the female tribute, I never get nervous. But then I'm reminded of Isabelle. I take a moment to think if she were reaped
Whatever happens, happens. Praying with friends doesn't calm me down so I just don't allow myself to get worked up about it.
"And the female tribute is…" The escort seems to like the way everyone holds their breath when she does this. I can't help but share in her joy. The emotions feel so real, so full of anticipation. Yet I feel something else too, almost jealous in the way they value life so much.
Some wish to be numb during these times, and I dread it. Am I heartless? Maybe so.
"Olive Colston!" It isn't Annabelle. She must be relieved, even with someone still dying. I'm tall, but not enough to tower over the rest. I see the girls looking to someone. A guy from behind me shouts something that I don't hear it. A Peacekeeper goes for her and I get my first look at her.
She looks fifteen or sixteen. Her hair is a light blonde and her skin icy pale. She is fairly short. Maybe a few inches over five feet. Some might not see her as beautiful, her face not flawless. Dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep that stand out with her blue-grey eyes. Her face edged and sharped. She stands out in a peculiarly pretty way. I watch her. I guess everyone is also.
Two peacekeepers seem to guide her a little bit of the way. She looks over in the male's direction, to someone. But who? A brother? Friend? Boyfriend? It must be whoever shouted before. She removes herself from the grasp of the Peacekeepers. Standing a moment to gather herself, before walking up to the stage on her own.
She stands in such contrast to the brightness of the escort. Who takes her hand, Olive does nothing but look uncomfortable.
It feels strange to call her by her name, as if I know her. I tend to do that a lot. I guess that makes me a creep. What an ugly title.
"Felix Weston" That rips me back into reality. When did she even pick a slip?
I adjust my shoulders and neck before walking up, should I be panicked? I'm not happy, no matter how curious I can get at work; this isn't elating to me. I don't know how to feel, I'm just shocked. Lost and confused. I have been so numb to the idea and now it is here. I walk up and look back at Annabelle. Her face tears me apart. She is one of the rare people that can make me so emotional. She knows it, the entire District knows after what happened last year.
I don't bother to look to mother and him. He must be happy to have me out of the picture. Instead of turning into a mess because of Isabelle or becoming angry from seeing his smug look, I turn my attention to the stage. Olive and the escort are staring to me. The escort, still holding Olive's hand, holds out her hand to pull me up the stairs. Those pink eyes watching me like some kind of cotton candy demon. I don't take it until I'm on the stage. The three of us stand together and the escort introduces us, her voice never so close. I can smell her perfume. It reeks.
"Our District Ten tributes!" She says letting go of our hands. Now we need to shake each other's hands. No one says it but we both know. We turn to look at each other; her features I examined from afar now up close. The girl who was supposed to just be another girl to die from my District is now my District Partner. The guy just supposed to die from Ten is now me.
I don't know how to handle that.
Who does? Maybe she looks at me in the same way, her knowing eyes trying to figure me out. Does it matter? We shake hands.
District Ten! Yay! And just eight more spots to be filled :) I'm getting all excited planning things and decided to just give a small run down on my plans.
5 Reaping chapter (or six)
2 Goodbye chapters
5 Train Ride chapters (or four)
These will be for each District, and introduction to each character. After that it will be longer chapters with many random POVS from different tributes. What the plan is at the moment:
Chariot Rides, Training Day one, Training Day Two, Training Day Three, Private Sessions and scores, Interviews, Moments before Games
So seven or eight Capitol chapters about :)
ARENT HINT #2- Will have Fall weather (so leaves already fallen, and chilly but not freezing)