Disclaimer: Again, I don't own anything.
~The Reapings, Districts 3 through 4~
District 3: Sukara "Suka" Ravo
I got a brand new attitude
And I'm gonna wear it tonight
I'm gonna get in trouble
~P!nk, So What~
I see only darkness.
Maybe it's a black pit, a bottomless abyss... or perhaps it's a cavern.
I'm not really sure, but I know I don't want to fall over the edge of whatever I'm standing on. Unsure of myself, I glance at my feet. I notice that my toes are still painted in that special nail polish made from berries. An old woman who's husband got his arm sawed off by a machine makes it. It's a sort of hobby for her, I think.
Anyway, beyond the fact that I have great nails, I realize that I'm hanging off a cliff.
Great.
How the hell did I get here?
A grumbling noise comes from somewhere far away, it isn't very loud, but it's enough to startle me. I jump a little bit, lose my balance, and tumble over the edge.
Shit! Shit! Shit!
As I'm free falling, the sound get louder and louder and...
Smack!
I gasp, my heart pounding wildly in my chest. I want to scream, but no sound comes out.
I sit up and survey my surroundings.
I'm in my room. It looks exactly like it did when I went to bed. Slightly messy, clothes piled on the floor, wrinkled from not being ironed in what was probably a week. The walls are still painted in a light bluish-green color, and my mirror has pictures of my sisters and brother taped on it—just like it always has.
Nothing is out of place, and I'm clearly okay, but I hear something that irritates me so much more than it should.
That grumbling noise from my dream—nightmare, really.
It's not a monster hiding in it's lair, it's my brother, snoring like one of those machines at the television factory.
An unexplainable fury surges in my veins, it's a sort of adrenaline rush that is always getting me into trouble. I'm to quick to anger, at least that's what my mom tells me, but I rarely listen to her. I usually tell her that she's not really my mother and that it's not my fault that people piss me off. But then she get's this wounded deer look on her face, and I'm reminded of the fact that she's not nearly as tough as my birth mother, who got pregnant with me me at seventeen, only to die a year later.
Dad tells me that she is a victim of the Hunger Games... that she almost won them... but then she got an ax to the head, courtesy of that year's winner, Maya Birch. District 7, I believe she was from.
But Seur isn't strong, and I really hate making her feel worthless... not that I'd ever tell her that.
Bure is an asshole, though, and he deserves to get yelled at. He knows I hate his snoring, especially because it wakes me up.
"Hey idiot!" I shout, hitting the wall next to my bed. "Shut the hell up!"
There is a loud, thump, and Bure curses loudly. Looks like somebody fell out of bed. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Sukara?"
"Nothing is wrong with me, you're the one with sinus issues!"
I fall back on my pillows, pretending not to hear Bure's next retort.
Screw him.
I briefly consider going back to sleep... but then what would I dream about? Demons? Death? The possibilities were endless.
Deciding that sleep would be pointless, I get out of bed, dreading the fact that the reaping would begin in less than an hour.
I hate reaping day.
Seur always leaves a dress that is way too nice for a normal day on my chair, along with a pair of Meopy's old shoes. This year, it's a frilly thing made of light purple fabric and black high heels that I don't think that I can walk in.
I try to tell myself that she means well, but I'm still mad. So mad in fact, that I walk over to my window and chuck the offending shoes into the yard.
I re-paint my nails with the last of my polish and dress in the clothes my step-mom gave me, putting on a pair of flat shoes instead.
The numbers on my alarm clock tell me that I have forty-five minutes and counting.
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As usual, I walk with my eighteen year-old siblings to the town square.
Both Bure and I dislike the restriction that our mother put on us, but Meopy—Bure's twin—doesn't seem to mind.
Meopy is admiring my hair as we walk, talking in a voice of pure adoration. "You should have braided my hair like that, Suka."
Barf. "Next year."
"If you're even here next year, you take way too much tesserae." Bure tries to mask the concern in his tone, but I still hear it. It really pisses me off that he tries to say that so nonchalantly—as if my death means nothing to him, when truthfully, he'd be destroyed if I went into the Games.
The idiot.
"Anyway... did Mom say she was bringing Clire with her?"
Meopy is always trying to divert arguments, she's a nicer version of a Peacekeeper.
"Yup." says Bure, "But that's not the damn—"
Meopy pretends to ignore him, looking at the small crowd gathering around the stage. "Hey Bure, is that Teela?" she points to a tall girl standing by the seventeen pen.
His head snaps up, and he's blushing.
For a moment, I'm surprised. Bure never ever blushes, he is a block of ice that melts only when he's upset.
"Hey Suka!" Someone calls.
It's Leona.
Following her is my other best friend, Maui. He is so much like me that Leona always comments on how we are probably going to end up married and then divorced because we're both so stubborn. She still has bruises on her arm from our reactions to her observation.
"See you later, guys." I wave to my brother and sister, but Bure is too busy yelling at Meopy for either of them to respond.
I run over to them and we stand at the very front of the fifteen pen.
I look up at the stage, shielding my eyes from the sun. "Who do you think is going to get reaped?"
Maui scans the area. "That girl." he points to a small girl with red hair that is only twelve years old. A newbie to our little reaping game.
It's a tradition—two of us pick out possible tributes for the year, and if we're right... well, nobody has been right as of yet, so I don't really know what happens then.
"Maui, you asshole! She's twelve! What's your problem?" It's an unspoken rule—nobody bets on a twelve-year old. It's taboo.
"It's my guess." he says with a shrug.
"I pick him!" Leona interjects, preventing a huge fistfight from occurring. She selects a large boy with curly brown hair.
"I think you'll win," I say to her, trying to stay calm. Stupid Maui. "Young kids never get reaped."
"Yeah?" he asks snidely, still pissed that I yelled at him. "It's only a matter of time..."
District 3: Clint Manti
We are listening
And we're not blind
This is your life
This is your time
~Snow Patrol, Called Out In The Dark~
I often wonder about those people.
The sort of people who are oblivious to the world around them. It's not a bad thing necessarily, but it does perplex me. How could they not see the cloud of responsibility hanging over them? I feel it looming over me all the time. My father has always taught me to be strong, and I've been following his sage advice for years, watching out for Lillian whenever I get the opportunity.
Take today for example.
Lilly might have escaped being reaped, but she is constantly doing things that will get he into major trouble.
Because of this, I have to stand outside of her boyfriend's house, just to make sure she isn't doing anything... well, stupid. Dad would rather me use a word akin to misguided, but Lillian is no longer that sort of girl anymore. She's not sixteen and simply just a teenager, she knows the downward spiral she's on... and it's not getting any better.
Trelix, this week's conquest, lives in a fairly nice home away from the layer of smog emitted from the smokestacks. And at first, both my father and I believed him to be a gentleman, but clearly we were both terribly wrong.
Emily meets me by the front door at the time we agreed upon, smiling and waving as if it's any other day.
"Clint! Your hair is a mess!"
Sometimes I think of Emily as one of them, simply because she is so carefree.
I smile ruefully at her. "I know, but Lillian has to walk me to the reaping. I didn't have time to comb it."
"You could just walk with me, it's only down the street." she says.
"I'd rather make sure she's okay."
She looks hurt, but I don't acknowledge it. Even though it's reaping day, the sun is shining and the sky is blue. I have a theory that the Capitol purposely schedules the reaping during good weather days, and there's a rumor that the town was built on the outskirts of District 3 just for the reaping. I suppose it makes sense, as the rest of our home has a polluted air about it and we have to have the very best for President Snow.
I can't say that it isn't plausible.
There is a bang, a giggle, and my sister appears in the doorway. Her hair is messy and she is all disheveled, dress hiked up over her thighs, and a goofy grin on her face.
I can't even begin to understand what happened in there—and I really don't want to know.
"Ready to go?" Lilly asks, delirious.
"Yes."
No, not really.
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We are so late that even Ace is getting anxious.
"Where were you?"
I duck under the rope, and Emily follows suit. We stand side by side by side, equally bothered by the upcoming event.
No one, not even this Trelix-guy who is taking advantage of Lillian, deserves to die a horrible death.
I tell myself to stay positive, but I can't seem to manage it. I feel like this day is going to go terribly wrong, and the feedback coming from the stage's speakers aren't doing anything to ease my paranoia.
"Waiting for Lilly," Emily says a bit peevishly.
I sigh. "Look Em, if she doesn't take care of herself, who's going to?"
"Your dad!"
I've never seen her so upset before. "What about when he dies?"
"She's a big girl, she can take care of herself." Em is close to tears now and I have no idea what to say.
"I didn't realize it was such a big deal... I'm sorry."
"Well, when someone lo—"
She is abruptly cut off by Mayor Zeal clearing his throat, the sound amplified by his microphone.
He starts off by reading the Treaty of Treason, and speaking of the Dark Days, and finally the birth of the Hunger Games.
"And here's Drey Mann!"
Our escort is purple. From his hair to his eyes to his toenails. His tunic is an obscene gold color and it almost hurts to look at him.
"Hi District 3!" he yells gleefully. "Let's start the won-der-ful reaping!"
He prances—yes, prances—over to the reaping ball and pulls a name from it.
"Our female tribute is... Sukara Ra-vo!" Drey screams, enunciating her last name.
I turn to Emily, who likes to poke fun at his accent, but she doesn't want to make eye contact with me.
That's when I hear it.
"Clint Manti!"
What did he just say?
"Clint..." Ace begins, obviously horrified.
I move toward the stage as if I'm in a dream... and I'll wake up any second now...
But that moment never comes, and I'm left standing next to an alien and a girl I have seen in school. The weight of what's going on hits me all at once.
We're going to die, and nobody can stop it.
District 4: Fawn Nolan
Oh well your future's a machine
With the mechanics of a dream
It is your mind that spins the wheel
~Noah And The Whales, Jocasta~
The nightmares are the hardest to ignore.
No matter how many pleasant non-realities I make for myself, their faces are always there.
I squeeze my eyes shut and listen to the sound of the water smacking against the wood of the dock. It comforts me, reminds me of peace, though it makes me sleepier than I already am. Training for the Games takes a lot out of me, especially because I got up earlier than usual to swim laps. I always put in extra time on reaping day, I have to stay on my toes.
I can't end up like Kaia and Axel.
Their faces swim into my mind before I can stop it.
They were so sure of themselves... so positive that they would win. How could they have been so wrong?
Over-confidence.
I remember walking into the Justice Building, scared out of my mind, knowing that this was the last time I'd ever see Kaia again.
Don't worry about me, Fawnie. I'll be fine. I'll win for sure!
If she associates being strung up a tree and being hanged with fine, then we have two opposing views. My version of fine consists of being here, by the ocean. Swimming. Thinking of only good things. Staying fit. Staying strong.
I told myself repeatedly that Axel had a chance...
I can't wait to win this thing!
But he didn't, much to mom and dad's chagrin. That's right—chagrin. They didn't shed so much as a tear when Axel fell out of that tree, they believed he would get up and be a-okay, but bodies don't bend at ninety degree angles... arms don't twist backwards... bones should not poke out of flesh.
I shake my head, ridding myself of the gory imagery.
The sun is peeking out over the horizon, staining the gray water orange. The sky isn't blue, but a bloody reddish shade. It's creepy, really, and it unsettles me so much that I get up from my spot and take off in the opposite direction.
I can never seem to escape the pain for too long.
People who are setting up wave to me and I look away—I can't stand to see the looks on their faces, so happy and lighthearted.
Today is reaping day for God sake!
Luckily—or unluckily—depending on your point of view, the District 4 Peacekeepers have the first five sections up and ready, so I stand in the sixteens alone, watching as a man with a curly-q mustache places the Victor's chair on the platform. They are labeled with the Victor's name and the Games they competed in. Pearla Ola: 51st Hunger Games, she won when she was twelve. My father, Mar Nolan: 47th Hunger Games. My mother, Morgan Nolan: 39th Hunger Games, she was thirteen. And last but not least; Zane Dalis: 71th Hunger Games, he was sixteen at the time.
My only friend, who is very pro-training and doesn't care if I don't get his dumb jokes.
He says winning the Games makes him happier about life, and he likes spending time helping others... because he'd be pretty bored if he didn't help me train all the time. I wonder... when I win the Games (the way I've trained for them does not point to any other option,) will I feel the same way? I hope so, the alternative isn't what I'd call good. Pearla is a victim of the flip-side. Her blue-green eyes are always blank during the recaps of her Games.
I don't want to be an empty shell.
I can't be.
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Hours later, the area starts to fill with people, the stage is now home to our four living victors, three of which I love very much.
It should be five, a dreamy voice in my head says, and I have to agree—for Kaia and Axel, for Landon, who should never be a tribute in these Games.
I'll be a part of this, too. I decide it right then, in the space of a nano-second.
I can do this. I've trained for half of my life, while my siblings started training when they reached reaping age. I'm better prepared, and I am far more realistic than they were—and I spend half my time so deep in thought that I constantly get yelled at by Zane and my parental units.
I will volunteer, and I'll show everybody.
This will be my year.
District 4: Cameron Knight
I'm a spectator, the motivator
Shut up, shut up and do it to yourself
I'm just an innocent bystander!
~KoRn, Innocent Bystander~
"Cora, who are you looking at?"
My current girlfriend doesn't respond, and keeps her eyes trained on that victor instead—the one who won the Games most recently, Zone or something.
I can feel the first sparks of frustration beginning to form in the pit of my stomach. "Cora?"
"Hmm?" She finally turns to look at me, her dark green eyes wide and not really attentive.
"Who are you looking at?"
"Mayor Vast. He's got a new bow tie." She point to the wiry man standing on the stage, speaking with one of the Capitol's most favored victors—Finnick Odair.
But Mayor Vast does have a new bow tie, it's bright yellow with accents of red, and he probably got it as a gift from our escort, who has always had an unhealthy obsession with him.
"Isn't it funny?" she prompts, giving my hand a squeeze.
If I'm going to be completely honest, I don't give a damn about his tie, much less what it looks like, but I do my best to try to seem as if it matters.
I nod slowly. "Yes."
"Finnick would look good in a bow tie, don't cha think?"
I clench my jaw and agree with her, although I don't even know what she said, I'm too busy glaring at the Peacekeeper who walks by us. I hate those assholes, they think everything they do is justified because they enforce the laws, even if their actions would get a normal person executed. Every last one of them is downright pathetic, I can't even think of a word shitty enough to describe them.
What I do next is fully intentional, I put my leg out and the idiot trips over it, arms flailing as his face smacks into the concrete. I hear a crack, which means his nose has probably shattered... a more moral part of myself tries to call up guilt, but I fail miserably. He deserves whatever pain he gets.
What they did...
It was unforgivable.
"Oh my God!" Cora shrieks. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah man," I chime in, but only because I don't want to get myself murdered for assault. "You should watch where you're going... I wouldn't want anything else to happen to you."
Cora helps him up, and tells me she'll be right back. She takes the guy over to the small doctor's office on the other side of town.
I shove my hand in my pockets, the anger slowly fading away.
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Cora meets up with me in the section for seventeen year-olds. Her blonde hair is slightly frizzier than it was before, but she's still pretty, which I tell her the second I see her.
"What was going on back there, Cam?"
Thankfully, I'm spared an answer. Mayor Vast begins to give his speech.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the country of Panem came to be..."
After at least twenty minutes of his rambling, he brings Sari Cox onto the stage, she hangs onto his arm like a fucking octopus and gives him a peck on the lips, he turns noticeably red.
At least there's some entertainment.
I feel myself beginning to calm down, and it feels nice to hold Cora in my arms.
It's okay.
Sari goes over to the first reaping ball, giggles idiotically, and draws a name.
"Cora Glass, you're our first tribute!" her shrill voice turns into knives, daggers that are cutting into my eardrums.
"I volunteer!"
A girl rushes out of the sixteens with her head held high.
I recognize her as Fawn Nolan, the daughter of two victors. District 4 doesn't have much of a volunteer process, so Sari just tears the slip of paper in half and smiles.
"Our male tribute is... Cameron Knight!"
Holy crap.
I've just been reaped.
I feel like I'm about to faint, but I let go of Cora's hand, march up the steps in a mannor similar to Fawn, and meet my fate.
There's the second set of reapings. I hope I wrote everyone's characters like they imagined them. And I didn't have a theme song for Cam so I found one... I hope that one is alright. Please review and tell me what you thought of the tributes. Also, I was thinking about doing a few chapters during the actual Games from the mentor's point of view. What do you think?