Disclaimer: Hunger Games still ain't mine! Chapter title from "Little Lion Man" by Mumford and Son
Skylar Bornly
"Are you sure I won't get in trouble for this?" the boy asked me as we stared at the metal cart of the apple vendor. The ripe red and yellow fruits were stacked neatly in pyramids, just calling my name. My stomach rumbled in anticipation, even though I could have eaten breakfast at home. Dad had made porridge before he left for work down at the plant. It was cold and nasty by the time I woke, so I took to the streets, stumbled across the farmer's market, and picked an unwitting victim.
"I do it all the time! I promise, nothing will go wrong," I reassured him, pushing my limp brown hair behind my ears. I didn't even know this boy's name. It didn't really matter, now, did it? He served a purpose, like all those I had brief associations with. "All you have to do is grab the apples from the top of the pile. One for me, one for you. And make sure he doesn't see you!"
He looked at me with uncertainty. Behind his pale grey eyes, I could see his desperation for the food. That's why I'd chosen him. This was a street kid, probably one that ran from the home for orphans, who hadn't eaten a decent meal in weeks.
Take advantage of weakness. Life lesson number one.
"Why don't you go then?" he asked suspiciously.
I sighed dramatically. "Obviously I would if I could. But I was here earlier this week, and I think the cart owner saw me. So I'm sharing my secret to stealing with you, and you can use it in the future.
Build a basis for trust- at least on their side. Life lesson number two.
My words seemed to calm him, and he nodded in agreement. "Whenever you're ready," I said gently, making it clear I wasn't pushing him.
The boy slipped from the ally where we hid and snuck towards the apple cart. He was a tiny, malnourished little thing- you'd barely notice him if you weren't looking for him. I waited a few seconds as he padded toward the cart, gave him a sweet smile when he looked to me for reassurance, then slipped out of the shadows to follow him.
Never tell your enemies or your prey the entire plan. Life lesson number three.
He was at the cart now. The owner was distracted, aiding an older woman in choosing the ripest apples of the bunch. It would have been so easy to let the boy take two apples and keep one for himself.
But why share when I could have it all?
The boy reached up, plucked two apples from the top of the pile, and I took it as my cue to move. At the opposite end of the cart, I plucked two apples myself—from the bottom. The pyramids tottered briefly, and I took this as my opportunity to hide, selecting an ally near to the cart, but not the same one I had hidden in before. With a series of hollow thuds that reminded me of sleet falling on the tin roof of my home, the apples hit the pavement, drawing the attention of the cart owner.
"What's this?" he shouted, rounding the side of the cart and grabbing the boy by the collar of his grungy shirt. "Show me your hands, boy! SHOW ME YOUR HANDS!"
I watched as the boy dropped the apples to the ground. "Please sir, she told me to do it! Over in the ally!" He pointed to where I was before. Still carrying the boy, the cart owner marched over, huffing and puffing in the early morning heat.
"There's no one here, kid. What the hell were you thinking?" The cart owner raised a hand, attracting the attention of the Peacekeepers in the square.
"Is there a problem sir?"
"This thief stole from my stand and destroyed half of my produce," he growled, pushing the boy into the Peacekeeper's clutches. I took this opportunity to stroll out of the other alley, the apples hidden deep at the bottom of my messenger bag, in the secret pouch I'd sewn in myself. Even if I did get stopped, no one would ever find what I'd hidden.
"Good morning, Mr. Acres!" I shouted, waving politely to the cart owner.
The owner of the apple cart smiled, giving me a wave in return.
"THAT'S HER! THAT'S THE GIRL!" The boy shouted, trying to pull from the iron grip of the burly Peacekeepers.
As I walked from the square, heading home so I could dress for the Reapings, I heard Mr. Acres snort. "Don't be stupid boy. Skylar Bornly is a good girl. Known her since she was born!"
Life lesson number four. I win. Always.
OOO
Otto Acadia
"You can't just sit in here forever, you know. There's life outside the garage, Otto," my sister, Data, scolded me, sounding remarkably like my mother. She sat on the workbench opposite mine, cuddling with her boyfriend (and my best friend), Chord.
I love Data and Chord, but the last thing I wanted to deal with was their lovey-dovey-cutsey-vomit-inducing romance. Because if we were talking romantic lives, my very limited one had just hit its ultimate low. For three weeks I, Otto Acadia, social outcast and general misfit, had Giga Marin, the prettiest and most popular girl in our school.
And she dumped me.
"It's not me- it's you," she told me yesterday, her gorgeous face completely devoid of emotion. Apparently tall, dark, and handsome did not live up to her expectations when you threw awkward and conversationally-challenged into the mix. And to add insult to injury, she did it the day before the Reapings. Just what I needed if I got reaped today.
Rummaging through my workbench, which could currently be described as organized chaos, I moved a pile of half used sandpaper to reveal the screwdriver I was seeking. I reached to grab it, but stopped, trying to remember if anyone had used the bench since I last worked. I couldn't remember. Deciding to play it safe, I grabbed an antiseptic cloth and wiped the handle down before touching it.
"I'm allowed to mope. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours since she dumped me," I replied, tinkering with the switchboard in front of me. I was trying to repair Chord's record player, with little success so far. "I should have known she'd never be interested in a guy like me."
"Giga's a skank, dude. She used you, and you didn't deserve that. But there are plenty of other girls out there who wanna be with you," Chord chimed in, ever the supportive best friend. He was a good guy, but a bit oblivious to the way the world worked. My family was wealthy, but his made ours look like we belonged in District 12. His parents were representatives of Capitol, and he had career prospects far outside our District- a bright future for him, and for Data, if they stayed together.
"Yeah, because we all know the women just line up in droves for socially awkward germophobes," I muttered in frustration, dropping the board onto the wood. One of the data chips cracked, flying into the air and bouncing across the floor. I couldn't see where it landed.
"I was shy, and look where I ended up!" Teeva, the elder of my two sisters said enthusiastically as she entered the garage. She married the mayor's son two years ago, and lived in a mansion in the center of town. I should have known Data would call her- they always liked to double team me when I get mopey.
"Yeah, but you're also hot," Chord chimed in, earning him a slap upside the head from Data. "What? You're hotter!"
"You grew into your looks, Otto. You don't give yourself enough credit. And one day someone will appreciate your quirks as well. You just have to wait for the right girl," Teeva said definitively, and I knew there was no arguing with her. "Now if you guys come inside, mom sent me and Akrin here with sweets for you guys before the Reapings. Chocolate covered strawberries and raisins!"
Data immediately popped up at the words chocolate. She was the troublemaker of the three of us, and a total chocoholic, resulting in a tendency to nick sweets from our mother's shop. I had the opposite problem- when dad took me to work with him at the factory he managed, I always left with pockets filled with scrap metal. Chord followed her into the house. "You coming, bro?" he asked from the doorway.
"In a sec," I said. "Just want to finish soldering this switch back on."
Chord shut the door, and I reveled in the peace and quiet of my garage, knowing my toolbox and workbench would never grab my heart out of my chest and stomp it into the ground. It brought little comfort.
OOO
Skylar
I took one last bite of the second apple, tossing the browning core into a garbage pail. According to the clock in the town square, there was less than an hour until the Reaping began. You could tell, too. On any given afternoon, the town square was normally filled with factory workers rushing to lunch or taking a stroll to ease their mind from a busy day wiring explosives. Today, though, parents were rushing home from work to spend time with their children. Who knew- any one of them could be reaped today.
Not my dad, though. We weren't the emotional type. If I got reaped? Well that was that. He knew I could more than hold my own- not with weaponry, but with my mind.
A red car sped by me, shiny and new. I caught a glimpse of hot pink hair with green highlights through the window. The escort had arrived. She was followed by a van of photographers and videographers, ready to set up and begin the human lottery.
Get it together, Sky, my inner voice chided. I still needed something to wear. Dad's job kept our heads above water, but we weren't rich. New dresses weren't always an option. So I was on my own for this one- and I knew the perfect target.
"Hi Mrs. Crowne!" I said as I entered the tailor's shop at the corner. "Hi Bierly!" Bierly was a girl in my class at school. I couldn't stand her, honestly, but I knew one day the connection would be of use. That day was today.
"Hi Skylar! Ready for the Reaping?" Mrs. Crowne asked, her face mournful. Bierly was her only daughter, and she had taken the tessarae for every member of her family- including six younger brothers, all under twelve. Most people would feel bad. I felt comforted. Made my chances of getting picked slimmer. And I didn't feel sorry for it a bit.
"Not really…" I said, widening my eyes and forcing tears out. "I have nothing to wear… Dad… well the money isn't really there this year. You know? So I guess I'll just go in this…" I pointed at the tattered and stained pants and shirt I wore, a disguise I'd chosen to manipulate the poor boy.
Mrs. Crowne shook her head, lips pursed. "That won't do at all my dear. What if the cameras catch you in the crowd? The Capitol… I shudder to think what they'd do to you. No, I'll lend you a dress from the store. You can return it after."
"Oh thank you!" I replied graciously, accepting the simple yet becoming blue dress from Mrs. Crowne. "I'll make sure I wash it right after the Reaping, and then I'll bring it back to you."
Nope. Not a chance.
"Not a problem. Why don't you get changed and you can walk with Bierly and I to the park?"
I did as I was asked, acting the part of the good girl the whole time.
OOO
Otto
The gates of the Emerich Hawthorne Memorial Park, on a normal day, would be wide open. The green fields would be filled with jocks playing any number of sports, and children on rusted swings and sandboxes. On Reaping day, however, the gates remained closed until show time. The stage would be set up, speakers and television cameras everywhere. I could already see the mayor pacing back and forth across the stage with my brother-in-law. His two younger sisters were still eligible.
We waited for the signal chimes to ring, and the gates to open. Everything was highly organized in District 3- the girls would file in first, then the boys, then the spectators.
"You guys will be fine," Chord said, though I could tell he was trying to reassure himself, in addition to Data and myself. Because he was originally from the Capitol, he was exempt from the Reaping. "You're only in there a couple of times, thee are kids with dozens of tessarae slips. You'll be fine."
"Babe, you're freaking out worse than either of us," Data said softly, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. I wasn't so sure that was true. My stomach was churning. I'm sure Data was even worse, as this was her last year eligible. So what if our names were only in there a few times? It only took one slip of paper to become a tribute.
Above our heads, a series of chimes sounded. The signal that the gates were going to open. I glanced at Data, and saw my nerves reflected in her eyes. Chord shook my hand, and I tried not to flinch at the touch. "No worries, bud. No worries," he whispered, giving me a quick pat on the back. He turned to kiss Data goodbye, and I wandered to join my group, making sure to stand far away from the others so as not to touch them.
As the last of the spectators filed in and took their seats in the old metal bleaches, the mayor took center stage. Concern for her own children's well being was clear as she stuttered through the history of Panem and the revolutions. Her hands were clasped behind her back, and her legs fidgety. Once she finished, she acknowledged the applause received with a curt nod and collapsed, rather than sat, back in he chair next to Chord's dad.
"OKAY KIDS! It's time for the fun to begin!" someone shouted with malevolent glee. Our escort, Kyrie Zanderhook ran onto the stage, looking like someone smashed a watermelon over her head and didn't bother to clean it off. Her skin was tinted gold and blue, almost in a spiral pattern, and some device was pushing her sapphire eyes wide open, almost to the point of falling out of her head. She was a conglomerate of color that wrecked havoc upon the eyes, but probably brought men running to her side in the Capitol. And as she smiled, I could see her teeth were covered in diamonds.
Fun? Only someone from the capitol could think we were about to have fun.
"I hope we have some entertaining choices this year, don't you all?" Kyrie asked the crowd. There was a meager applaud, halfhearted. District 3 was stuck smack dab in the middle of the career tributes of one, two, and four. Entertaining the Capitol was not foremost on our minds.
"Who did we start with last year Don?" Kyrie shouted at the director. "The girls? Alright! Boys first this year!" She stuck her hand into the globe, her talon-like nails snapping up a thin slip of paper.
"Our lucky boy this year is… OTTO ACADIA!"
The words had barely registered before I threw up on the guy in front of me.
OOO
Skylar
"No!" I heard shouted from somewhere behind me. Bierly and I turned around. There was rustling and movement among the eighteen year old girls, but it stopped once the Peacekeepers moved forward. Craning my neck, I searched for the unlucky victim that was heading to the arena, and saw a small circle clear among the seventeen year old boys. A boy was on the ground, trying to stand up, but was still shaky. He wiped his sleeve across his face, his face turning beat red.
Otto took a second, collected himself, and stalked up to the stage. Was it aggression or just a response to the terror he felt? I couldn't tell. But in the crowds I could hear women crying, and I assumed it was his family.
He stomped up the stairs, arms crossed across his chest looking defensive. Not ready to fight, but ready to react. He was tall and awkward, but had a unique handsomeness to him. It was a shame he didn't stand a chance in the arena.
Kyrie threw an arm around his shoulder, ruffling his hair, and Otto flinched. "You ready for the most exciting event of your life Otto?" she screeched maniacally, practically jumping up and down in her giddiness.
She shoved the mic under his mouth, and I could just barely hear him mutter, "You mean the last event of my life?" I snickered.
At least he had a sense of humor.
Kyrie raised an eyebrow and took over the mic. "Allllllllright everybody! Let's give it up for Otto! Now on to the girls!"
I watched the globe spin in front of me. Bierly grabbed my hand, and I heard her whisper, "Skylar, I'm scared."
I pulled my hand away. "You probably should be," I hissed back, annoyed. She hiccupped, and started crying. I was only stating the truth- she had almost triple the number of slips that I had.
"The lovely young lady representing District 3 this year is—" she paused dramatically, and Bierly started sobbing. "SKYLAR BORNLY."
Who?
It was a total out of body experience. How could I be a tribute? I was only fourteen. Bierly and her dozens of slips missed being reaped, and I was chosen. I wanted to scream. To throw a temper tantrum, demand they pick again until I got my way. I always got my way.
But that wasn't the way to get sponsors. And if I was going to survive, as dad said, my strength was not physical, it was mental. The ability to manipulate. And that started right now. Biting my lip until I could feel it bleed, I forced myself to cry. And the tears led to bawling. I gave Bierly- detested, annoying Bierly- a long, bittersweet hug, acting as if she were my best friend in the world. Slowly pulling myself away, I made my way to the stage, approaching the podium with a look of innocence destroyed on my face. The tears were silent now.
"Don't cry sweetie, you're gonna be famous!" Kyrie chided. I saw my Dad in the crowd, giving me a thumbs up of approval. Suppressing the urge to smirk was nearly painful.
"I… I… know!" I sobbed.
"Alright! This year's tributes! Shake hands and we can proceed with the Hunger Games!" Kyrie announced. I hesitantly stuck out my hand towards Otto. I saw him cringe in disgust, his fingertips just barely glancing over my hand in the weakest handshake I'd ever felt. I looked up at him sadly, hoping he would sense that I was a young girl lost in the system. And he fell for it, taking a deep breathe for courage and gripping my hand tighter in comfort.
One sucker down. Twenty-two more to go.
OOO
Otto
Hugging my mother and father one last time, I watched as my family was escorted from the Justice Building. Everyone had always said the tributes were treated like kings and queens, but they were wrong. The cramped little spaces we were given or our goodbyes felt like little more than prison cells. Teeva was distraught, Data barely holding herself together, and mom was in hysterics. Dad? Dad was typical, analytical dad. He accepted it like I did: the likelihood of me coming home was slim. Antisocial, germophobic, awkward Otto Acadia: future bloodbath victim. They might as well tattoo it on my forehead and let me skip the training crap.
As I watched my family slip away down the hallway, I threw myself across the metal chair that I'd previously wiped down with soap and paper towels from the sink in the room. It was the best I could do, given the circumstances.
"You expecting anyone else, kid?" the Peacekeeper at the door asked me. I glanced at the clock on the wall- it was nearing five, when we'd be cut off from the world as we knew it. I shrugged my shoulders in response, unsure if Chord would come, and preparing myself to be disappointed if he did.
Suddenly, I heard footsteps running down the hallway. "Is there… is there… time?" I heard someone panting outside the door. I recognized my best friend's voice.
"Go on ahead kid," the guard said. "You got a couple minutes."
I stood from the chair as Chord entered, red faced and winded. "I was afraid I'd miss you dude. I went to see my dad. I was hoping… with our connections. Maybe there was immunity… I tried, man. But Dad… there was nothing he could do. I'm so sorry."
I felt my heart break a little. I never expected him to go to such lengths for me. Pushing aside my fear of germs, I grabbed his hand and pulled him in for a hug. "Don't bother, man. What's done is done. But thank you."
"Who the hell is gonna back me up when Data gets all bossy?" he asked with a forced smile.
I shrugged my shoulders. "You'll find someone."
"Won't be the same," he said, looking down at the floor and kicking invisible rocks. "I'm gonna marry her, you know. I still have to ask her. But just in case you don't… but you're gonna come back, and you'll be my best man."
"Yeah, I'll be back," I said, unsure of who I was trying to comfort with my lies at this point.
The guard poked his head in. "Wrap it up guys."
"I'll be watching. I asked my dad to call in all his friends in the capitol. Work out some sponsors for you. We've got your back."
"Thanks man."
Chord and I shook hands one last time, and he headed for the door. At the last minute he turned around and tossed something at me. "You need a token dude. And a reminder that you gotta get your ass back here and fix my record player." I opened my hand to see the data chip I'd broken off the switchboard earlier that day.
"You got it, bro."
The door closed behind him, and I was left to face my fate.
Hey everybody! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I had a great time writing these tributes! Honestly I've had fun with all of them so far. Thank you to everyone who has left a review or faved. Please feel free to leave constructive criticism- I really do appreciate it! Or just leave a review! The Otto/Skylar banner is also now up on my blog! -Jac