The Hunger Games
Normal POV
The sun was shining through the partly open drapes on her window, and hurting her closed eyes. Aria wanted them closed, but she didn't have the will to get up and close them completely, so she just turned around, and put her face out of the path of light. Better.
The satisfaction she felt at the small victory she had won over her battle with the sun evaporated when the door to her bedroom burst open. Did she care? No. It was probably her brother, and May didn't – couldn't – care enough to get up at the moment.
"Aria, wake up."
Her older brother, and his voice left no room for her to argue feebly while lying down. Reluctantly, May opened her eyes, and saw the towering figure of her older brother standing over her. "Morning, 'Alex," she said sleepily.
"Wake up," he repeated, not even cracking a smile at his nickname for her like he usually did. "It's Reaping Day."
Just the last two dreaded words he spoke sent a jolt of fright through her. Aria sat bolt upright immediately, her fear banishing all the sleep away from her body. How could she have forgotten?
"You probably won't get chosen," he told her, softening when she looked close to crying. "You've only been entered what? Eight times? The poorer folks have their names on the list, like a million times."
Reaping Day. The day when every single living person between the ages of twelve and nineteen held their breath as the spidery fingers of the escort from Skynaisia standing up on the stage chose a name for each gender to send them for a fight to the death in a enclosed space. Aria is sixteen.
Ever since the districts had rebelled against Skynaisia ninety-nine years ago, their leaders, the 'Masters' had decided that a punishment was due. So, the Hunger Games was created, where at least a few from the population normally lower class , would be sent from each of the ten districts to fight to their deaths, as a reminder that this was what happened when a rebellion occurred against the Masters. To make it extra painful, everyone had to watch, every single year four new candidates would be chosen from the reaping bowl. The final survivor would be greatly honoured, and rewarded richly for the rest of their lives, but it didn't seem fair to the rest of the players, the ones left either dead.
Every year, a child had to enter their names once, and the names would stay in the Reaping pool until they were too old to be chosen. If they decided to get their names entered again, they were given extra food, and would have some spare provisions sent for that year, but their names would still stay there the next year, and the next, until they were past the age when they could be chosen. On Reaping Day, a few children were sent to Capitol, where they'd be evaluated. Then, they'd either stay, die or live the ones who lived or came back were probably the luckiest people on earth.
"Dress nicely," he told her, a poor attempt at a joke. "You know cameras will be everywhere."
She grimaced at him as he left her room, but heeded his advice and began to dig in her closet for an acceptably fancy piece of clothing.
"What took you so long, Aria?" her sister raised her eyebrows when Aria finally came down the stairs.
"Choosing an outfit," she mumbled, taking a seat. Aria had ended up choosing the same thing she'd worn for the past three years; her white dress with the pink ribbon. Alex called her stupid for calling it her lucky dress, but she'd never been chosen when she had worn it, and she decided to not push her luck. She tried to force herself to eat the meal that they had made, but the butterflies in her stomach were morphing into something much more vicious. Wasps, maybe, or vipers.
"Well, you look pretty," Molly tried to smile warmly, and only succeeded partly. Alex was safe from the Hunger Games forever, having celebrated his twentieth birthday a month ago, but their guardian Aunt Adrastea still had to worry about them, they two were the last members of the family still in danger. "Have you gotten a token?"
"You make it sound like she's been chosen," Alex commented drily, taking her seat next to her. His slightly larger hand gripped hers, squeezing it reassuringly. "Let's ask her that question when we get there."
Their Aunt laughed nervously. "Ah, yes, you're right."
"Besides, we'll be fine even if we are chosen," Alex continued. "We have been training for so long, it's the other Games tributes you'll have to worry about."
Aria flinched. The ones who actually underwent training so that they would have a higher chance of returning and earning all the glory and honours, those kinds of tributes were called 'Careers'. She wasn't exactly a Career, per say, because she didn't train for the chance to enter and return from the dimension. their parents had left just because they'd been so scared for their children and Amalthea died while defending them.
And even in training it had always been Alex who had been the one skilled at the general surviving trick. He'd always managed to pass the tests their instructors put them through with flying colours while she and 'Molly bumbled along.
Mentally, Aria slapped herself. Here she was, moping along, when there was barely a chance she'd be chosen! Amethyst was one of the biggest districts or villages, and one with the most Careers and past Victors. Even if she was chosen, there was a good probability that an ambitious Career would volunteer to take her place.
The thought improving her mind, she dug in more enthusiastically into her favourite pancakes.
She caught Dalton smiling slightly. Ah, so he'd been trying to make her feel better. Well, it had certainly worked.
As soon as she was done, she stood up and began to shake again but felt better than before.
"Well," her Aunt stood. "Let's get going now, shall we?"
"Yeah," she stood as well, and straightened her dress with slightly sweaty palms. "Let's."
At the ceremony, Aria began to make her way to the section where all the girls of the reaping age waited. Alex was about to join the boys' side, but stopped when he remembered that he was too old to be waiting with everyone else. His face held a mixture of relief and odd sorrow as he walked away, back to the section where those too young or too old watched, roped off and guarded by Peacekeepers. Aria's heart swelled with pride, just a bit, at seeing the fierce Peacekeepers that did their duty with loyalty and honour. Amethyst was the largest supplier of the Peacekeepers. If Alex hadn't been training to be the next mayor, he would have been going to the Peacekeeper Academy already.
"Greetings, Citizens of Amethyst!" her father's familiar voice boomed out over everyone's heads. No one was stupid enough to keep talking, and everyone fell silent. "Today is a day of honour and glory, as four children from our loved district will be given a chance to go to Capitol and represent our district! It is a great honour, and should be treated as such! Welcome to the beginning of the Ninety-Ninth Hunger Games!"
She zoned out. While others may or may not have been interested, Aria had not only heard it every year, but she'd also hear it back home, where her father would practise it as often as he could as to memorize it.
Behind her talking father, Aria saw some of the past Victors of Amethyst. Huh, so they were to be the Mentors this year.
Every tribute could be taught the tips and tricks of the Hunger Games by a previous Victor, who also chose what gifts they received with their sponsor money. Sponsors were important in the game because the gifts that could be purchased with the money the watching fans sent could make or break a tribute's survival. From previous games that she'd seen, she definitely knew that to be true.
There were two of them this year. One was Alex Robson, the Victor from twenty four years ago. She had been in the Quarter Hunger Games, something that occurred every twenty five years. That had been the year when four Victors had been allowed, and four district tributes had emerged alive. Alex from Amethyst, and someone from another place called Krypton. The blonde haired woman was still beautiful and elegant, just like she'd been for as long as Aria could remember seeing her, but she had never gotten married. Rumours had it that she had fallen in love with her fellow Victor, and forsaken love with anyone else just for him.
The other Mentor, sitting there in the silk suit and polished shoes, was Callum Shiron. She remembered him rather well, as his Games had been but three years ago. He'd been eighteen when he was reaped, and his extremely good looks had led him earning sponsors, both male and female, by the dozens, and later, hundreds as his competition died off. All the supplies he needed or wanted, plus his training at Peacekeeper Academy, had given him a huge advantage over any other tribute at the time, and he'd won in a record time of three days.
The sounds of clapping drove her out of her mind, and Aria hastily clapped as well, watching her father give a nod in response before retreating to the back of the stage. The escort, a young woman with dark purple hair, cheerily stepped forwards to the mike. "Happy Hunger Games!" she chirped into the mike. "And may the fates be in your favour this year!"
Katrina. The woman had begun to come to Amethyst four years ago, when she'd been transferred from one of the poorer districts. Ametrine? Autonoe? Someplace like them. Aria thought she was rather cute, in her outlandish outfits and high, child-like voice, but some had complained that she was an annoying brat.
"And now… the gentlemen…" her pink-gloved hand reached out and stirred the papers with the names. "Who... shall... it… be…?"
From the side where the boys were, there was an intake of nervous breath as at boy least three thousand boys inhaled.
One unfortunate piece of paper was caught by Katrina's hand, and pulled out. "John Oneill!"
The crowd parted to let a blond boy around the age of fifteen through. Miku thought she remembered seeing him from somewhere, but she wasn't sure. A lot of people had blond hair and blue eyes in Amethyst. Another boy, slightly younger than him but with a similar appearance, grabbed him and gave him a fierce hug, but the Peacekeepers pulled him off, and pushed John to the stage.
"Hello, John!" Katrina chirped as the blond made his way up. John ignored Katrina, and just stood, eyes set firmly as he held his head high.
"The next gentleman... is... her pink gloved hand stirred the names in the Reaping bowl, she held up the next unfortunate candidate. "Callum Jack," The brown haired boy jumped up to his friends and gave them a hi-five, fudge knows why!? And he made himself to the stage, hi head held proudly.
"Are there any volunteers?" Aria was surprised to see none. No Careers? Or was John a Career? Callum most defiantly was. John was just glaring down at the boy that had hugged him, clearly conveying to him that he wasn't to volunteer. Under the older one's gaze, the younger boy kept his silence. "No? Well, then, now, let's move onto the ladies, shall we?"
This time, Katrina's hand was a bit quicker in fishing around for a slip of paper. Withdrawing one, she read aloud the name of the unfortunate girl.
"Caitlyn Grande!"
"NO, CAT, CATTY!" Her little brother Kai screamed, Aria and Caitlyn were good friends, her heart wrenched in pain the same as Caitlyn's did, she made her way to the stage.
"And finally... Ariana Hale!"
Ariana Hale. Aria Hale. Her.
In the suddenly airless, timeless space around her, Aria thought she heard her mother wail, her brother scream in unrestrained, raw emotion. Aria knew she saw her father's eyes widen as he bit down on his lips to keep any sound from escaping, and that, along with her absolute, crystal clear certainty of her suddenly shortened life, was all she really knew now. All that was really important, wasn't it?
Somehow, despite the odds of it, she'd been chosen as one of female tributes for Amethyst. So close to being safe from the Games forever, yet… now, she'd never be safe.
She didn't panic, didn't show emotion in the timeless Twilight Zone around her in an invisible bubble. More like she couldn't. Something wouldn't let Aria betray the inner turmoil beginning to form within her. Her feet made their way past the crowds – each person in it so different and unique to her suddenly time-slowing eyes yet all the same mindless crowd in the end – then the stairs – painted white, made out of strong wood, yet worn, because the paint seemed to be chipping away and it creaked under her feet – and finally stopped on top of the stage, in the spotlight with the eyes of everyone in the whole district and maybe some parts of Capitol or any of the other districts watching on her, even for that short moment. The pressure didn't touch her in the bubble around her. Aria was safe from anything and everything in the bubble.
So that was why a lot of tributes never panicked in front of the camera, she mused. This safe, invisible bubble was the calming factor.
"Hello, Ariana!" Katrina chirped, and time began to flow normally for her. The impact of her name being called a second time, this time while standing on the stage with the cheerful woman was like being hit really, really hard with something like a mallet, or a small, malfunctioning hovercraft. That was on fire. You knew you'd been hit, and hard at that, but you just couldn't quite feel it until later, when the adrenaline or whatever it was stopped pumping like crazy in your veins and the flight or fight instinct wasn't needed there.
In the crowds, she caught Alex's eyes, the same shade of brown as hers, fiercely staring at her. He'd gotten himself under control, and he was trying to convey something to her silently, telling her to be like back when she was younger and she could make sense of anything he 'told' her silently. Smile, those blazing eyes told her. Be charming. Anything to survive.
Aria forced on a dazzling smile, the same she gave to her father when she was trying to get away from something she'd done. Even if he knew she was to blame, he went easier on her, he claimed, because of her beautiful smile. Time to see just what other people thought of this one, then. "Hi, Katrina!" she chirped, matching the escort's cheerful tone. Better to look good, right? In her mind, she began to beg, to pray to someone, anyone, to send a strong, ambitious Career in her stead. There had to be a girl who wanted to try out this year to get the glory of fighting in the Games, right?
Right?
Katrina beamed back, mouth widening until it seemed to be twice the length of her face. Was it even possible to naturally smile that wide? Perhaps it was surgery, some kind of altering done to her jaws to let her stretch her lips that wide when beaming. She'd seen some of the things people did with their bodies in Capitol, and they were quite…interesting, she supposed, although the thought of changing her body to such extremes made her rather queasy inside. Aria didn't think she'd ever do that to herself if she was presented with the opportunity. Katrina's mouth, though... it couldn't have been too hard to give someone something wide like crocodile jaws. "Nice to see such a friendly girl!" Katrina giggled, as if she found something humorous at the thought of sending four people to their deaths. Maybe she did. "Now, are there any volunteers for this lovely young lady?"
Aria took a deep breath, forcing herself to remain calm when not a single hand, a single cry of 'I volunteer as tribute!' went up. No Careers for her. What happened to all the previous cases, when Careers would have thrown themselves at the stage, shouting that phrase as they tried to reach the pedestal of bloody glory and money first?
"No?" Katrina seemed just as surprised. No Careers making their way up for a chance at the Hunger Games… how odd in a Career District, particularly one that was Amethyst, the largest Career District. "Well, then, ladies and gentlemen! The four tributes of District Amethyst for the Ninety-Ninth Blaze Games! Give them a hand!"
Aria tried not to cry. She tried to not scream, to sob and shriek that this was a mistake, that she wasn't supposed to be up here in front of all these people. She succeeded, and didn't make a sound. Her smile, fake and plastic, stayed frozen on her lips as she took in all the mechanic applause, carefully avoiding looking directly at the lenses of the cameras. That sight might have just been too much for her to handle.