The Contrast Between Lace and Bolts

Bolt Alva (District 3)

"Make sure you fix the TV before the Reaping." My father says as he and my mother head out of the house with my little sister. I think my parents want to be at the Reaping early, but I appreciate they don't pressure me into going with them. As long as I show up, I guess they don't mind when I get there.

"Yep." I say, even though my father is out of earshot. I head into the living room and get to work on the TV. We aren't from the richest part of District 3 so we can't just buy a new one.

When something breaks, we have to fix it ourselves.

I don't really want to fix it. To be honest, I would be more happy if it stayed the way it was and if it didn't work. Today is the Reaping, so that means starting tonight we will have a lot of mandatory viewing related to the Hunger Games. All the Capitol stuff about the tributes isn't that bad but they often show replays of the games and those make me sick.

And when the current games start, we are almost always watching TV if we aren't doing anything else because we have to.

I hate the Hunger Games. I believe the Capitol is wrong and I hate knowing that in a few days I will have to sit down and watch the tributes from three and numerous others die at the hands of their fellow tributes.

If I wanted to have anything to do with all that stuff then I would just volunteer myself.

I laugh out loud at that thought. District 3 never has volunteers. I could safely bet that if there is a volunteer I will kill myself because it just won't happen.

I laugh again at that thought as well.

Sometimes I just love my sarcasm. It gets me through the day.

"Hey Bolt." My best friend Samsung walks into the room just as the TV flickers on. "Oh you fixed it?"

"Just now." I say, turning it off as quickly as it came on.

In the Districts there are always people who like to bet on the tributes that will be chosen and in the Capitol there are thousands more, much richer people who do that as well. I don't want to watch a program on it though.

"Why did you do that?" Samsung asks. "They just showed a glimpse of the tributes from one."

"Why do you care?" I ask; a question for a question.

"Just want to know the competition if I go in."

"You'll know because of the recaps." I tell her. "Well, what did they look like?"

"Careers, though the boy was pretty young." She tells me.

"How young?"

"Younger than us."

I can barley picture a tribute from District 1 being younger than either of us. Samsung and I are both fourteen and most of the careers are seventeen or eighteen years old.

"Strange." I say before brushing it off. Samsung and I have our own reaping to worry about, instead of thinking of the others. "Is it time to go?"

"Yep." She nods. "Come on."

Samsung and I make it to the Reaping just as the last groups of people are coming in. We head over to our fourteen year olds section. In District Three they don't bother separating the girls and boys because they don't have enough space so we are all able to stand together unlike many other Districts. When we stand in our section I can't help but notice my best friend is shaking.

"Are you okay?" I ask her. Samsung shakes her head.

"No." She mutters and in that moment I understand her perfectly.

We aren't a career district. Everyone here, every single person, fears for their safety and their life right now because we aren't from a group of people that rejoice in the Hunger Games and are desperate to volunteer themselves.

I am scared as well.

"You'll be okay." I say because she has to be. We simply have to be okay.

The crowd is already quiet but the noise completely stops as the reaping starts, progressing quickly onto the selection of the tributes. It's not like we have many victors that can be read out unlike the long lists from 1, 2 and 4.

No, it's not like that here.

"Now I am going to read out the boy's name." The escort says. I'm surprised because for some reason it isn't ladies first today. Not that it matters much. The outcome will still be the same. There will still be two families who withdraw into their houses. It is always like that here.

"Bolt Alva."

My name. That's my name, but no! It can't be!

But I know it is when I catch sight of Samsung's horrified face, and the faces of the people all around me who are staring at me. Their expressions are blank but I know that they are glad it wasn't them.

I can't blame them, just like they can't blame me for wishing that it was.

I slowly walk up to the stage, taking the place that I wish wasn't mine.

It shouldn't be mine.

It shouldn't be anyone's.

Especially not Samsung's because it's her name that's read out next.

"No!" I exclaim, horrified that my best friend will share the same fate as me.

The seconds tick past and have no idea how I am going to bare anything past this moment. Then something happens that is so shocking but I won't question it because it means my best friend won't share the same fate as me.

Still, even though I try to accept what has happened, my eyes widen when the girl volunteers.

Lacey King (District 3)

I role my eyes at my older brother Chris as he tells me to get ready for the Reaping. It's because our parents aren't around that he is trying to act all mature in front of Lissy and I. I mean, Chris is twenty but he acts like a complete kid sometimes. I'm fourteen and I act more mature then him.

"I'm ready." I tell him in a strained tone.

"You are not going to wear that. Our parents will kill you." He points at the short, sexy black dress that I'm wearing.

"Why not?" I glare at him.

"Because you are way too young."

I flip my bleach blonde hair back over my shoulders, cross my arms, jut out my hip and give him a look that says "I don't care."

"If I'm going to the Capitol then looking like this will get me sponsors and trust me, the outfits for the interview will be much, much worse."

And by worse, I mean much, much more sexy.

"You are not going to the Capitol." He says, all his objections about my outfit drop. "There is no way you are going to the Capitol Lacey King."

"Sure sure." I brush off his seriousness and the obvious worry in his eyes and walk out of the house.

"Lacey!" He calls after me but I ignore him because I know that he won't run after me or anything.

My family has always been a bit concerned about me because, well, I'm not like the usual tribute from District Three. Not many people from my District live to watch the Hunger Games, just like not many people live to be in them. They worry about me because everyone knows that the Reapings can be rigged and I would be ideal to send. Everyone worries about me because no matter how much I love them, I would have little training if I went.

Well, they're idiots to think that I haven't been training on my own, but there is something they worry about even more that clouds everything else.

My parents, my brother and my sister are scared that if I was a tribute in the Hunger Games, that I would throw myself into it and that I would kill and that I would enjoy it.

Well I don't care what they think.

"This District should have more people like me." I actually say aloud.

"So, you're really going to do it?" My friend, Alice Renning, hurries up beside me. She must be heading to the Reaping as well. Alice is the only person I have told of my plan.

"Yep." I smile sweetly.

"I almost thought you were joking at first but when I think about it, you're such a fanatic that it's not that hard to fathom." She says, though she doesn't let on her personal opinion on the matter.

Though, if I stopped to care about opinions then I wouldn't be volunteering today.

"District Three needs someone like me to win for them." I say.

"Well if anyone from here can win, I am sure it's you." Alice tells me as we reach the square and we line up to sign in. We don't say anything more after that, instead just going to our section and waiting there. At fourteen years old, we are still more towards the back of the place but it doesn't matter.

It's not like anyone is going to be running to beat me to the stage.

"Okay everyone, welcome to the Reaping and Happy Hunger Games." The escort says, taking the stage. "May the odds be ever in your favour."

Yeah. Blah, blah, blah.

Get to the good stuff.

"Now I am going to read out the boy's name."

Yeah, that's more like it.

"Bolt Alva." The escort calls out. There is a turning of heads close to me and I follow them, seeing the scared looking boy only a few people away. He looks horrified but still manages to mount the stage without breaking down and sobbing like most people.

After a few seconds, the second name is read out.

"Samsung Hartor." There is once again the turning of heads, this time directed towards the friend of Bolt Alva who is on the verge of tears.

"No!" Bolt cries out and I take this as my cue, the perfect moment.

"I volunteer!" I yell out, pushing past the girl, Samsung, and moving towards the stage. I can hear the collective gasps and while I can't hear their voices individually, I know that the various members of my family will be some of the louder people and the most shocked.

Not that I care much.

"My name is Lacey King." I smile, more for the cameras then my actual District.

A smile for the cameras and a smile for the boy beside me who looks horrified and relieved at the same time.

We may be the same age and from the same District but there is a world of difference between us.

A contrast that is lighting up every screen in Panem right now.