Hello !
The end of this chapter is a little bit sappy, but I promise it won't stay that way. Thank you in advance for reading !
I do not own any aspect of the Hunger Games.
The community home is alright. At least we get to eat 3 meals a day, which is unusual in our district. The animals here aren't for us; they're for the "posh" people of the Capitol. At least there are windows, so it's never too cold in here. The walls of each room are painted a different shade of pastel yellow, but the walls are badly beaten up from all the temper-tantrums. The paint is peeling too, to make it all better. The corners of rooms have piles of dust and bugs in them, because no one bothers to sweep well enough. Or no one thinks to put it outside. Either way, it's gross.
My name is Seyrin Schmitt, and my home is District 10. I am fifteen years old as of last week.
I haven't lived in the community home forever, just since I turned two years old. That day, there had been a stampede of cattle that had escaped from the fields. The Peacekeepers shot at random, killing and injuring both the animals and the citizens. They had put my mother and father in critical condition. My parents are still alive, but they have no memory whatsoever. Not short-term, not long-term. If I go to visit – which isn't often – I bring a poster of who I am and who they are, and why they live with constant help. It's sad really. I don't like seeing my own parents.
Well, I don't like seeing anyone, really. I have a grand total of four friends. I don't like my life, and I have good reason. I don't like the Peacekeepers who smack me for wanting more food, because it isn't my fault that I'm hungry, it's theirs. It's also their fault that I live without parental company. I hate my bedroom, and the annoying little girls I share it with, who don't understand the world around them. I hate the feeling I get in my stomach when I feel unwelcome. Which, unfortunately for me, is everywhere.
But I can handle it.
Well, most days I can. Today is one of those days that come once a year where you wish you had someone like a parent to hold on to. Or anything, really.
As if on cue, all four of my friends burst through the door. As always, I pretend to smile so that they can't see my inner turmoil.
My friends are what the shallow people in town would call "beautiful but unlucky". They're unlucky because A, they have to live in a community home, and B, they deal with me. But they definitely fit the "beautiful" part, and my being here accents that all the more.
Let's just say I'm not exactly a celebrity in District 10.
"Well, well, well, Miss Seyrin. It seems that you haven't prepared yourself for today's reaping yet! Not that I blame you, of course," said Theranne, who has long and flowing blonde hair, paired with bright blue eyes. She's a year older than I am. She spoke with quiet importance clear in her voice, which is nice, because the rest of my friends are loud and obnoxious.
"I'm tired," I respond, lamely.
"Speaking of tired, Rilee, how on earth are you still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes? We woke you up over an hour ago!" Teenan Klore, the chattiest of us all at fourteen years old, practically screamed. She had the same shade of blonde hair as Theranne, which was not uncommon in our district, but hers was cut short; it barely reached down to her chin.
"Geez, Teenan, it's only you that actually has the energy to get through the morning. Lay off the rest of us," complained Rilee. He was always the whiney one. But that might just be because we always tease him about his name being spelled like a girl's. He and Teenan continued to bicker until they're interrupted by a friendly voice.
"Well I, for one, am hungry. So I will be taking my dear friend Seyrin here down to the mess hall to eat breakfast before we all get ready," Trey Drole said with a wink. I smiled, because he was really the only person who could wake me up and I wouldn't be upset. We were born just days apart, so we used to joke that we were twins. Except that we couldn't look more different. His hair is a messy mop of walnut brown, which was very different in this area of Panem, and mine is golden blonde, and pin straight.
His name comes from an old language that wasn't very common, even when it existed. His last name, Drole, originally spelled "drôle", meant "funny", and Trey is from the word "très", which means "very". So he is "very funny". But that was years before the Dark Days. At any rate, I couldn't think of a better name for him, because he is hilarious.
He is the only person I live for. If it weren't for him, I'd have taken my life by now.
I link my arm through his, and we walk downstairs to the mess hall. As usual, the Reaping has taken its toll on the kids who live here, and the room is buzzing with nervous chatter. "Are you worried, Seyrin? You look a little ashen," Trey comments.
"Not any more than usual," I respond.
"But didn't you take out tesserae? You didn't have to do that, you know. We have plenty of food here."
"No, that's just a rumour. Teenan just likes saying that kind of thing," I say, nervously.
I don't like lying to Trey, because he genuinely cares about me, and people in general. I took out tesserae because I want to die in the Games. Maybe I took out too much, because I have taken out enough grain and oil for ten people every year since I turned twelve and was eligible for it. I figure my chances of being picked are too low, anyway. I'm actually excited for the day when my name gets picked from the glass ball. I don't want to volunteer, because that would be unheard of in our District, and people would be suspicious of my motives. Plus, I kind of want to stay, for Trey. But there has to be a better life once we're gone here. That's what I tell people who ask me why I obsess over death. If you want to live, go ahead, but dying is an escape for those who have given up. Yep, that's me.
"Okay," he responds, carefully. I don't think he was buying it.
"Let's just… not think about it. For half an hour. Let's just eat," I sigh.
So we sit and eat. And for the first time in months, we don't say a word to one another.
When we finish, I take off for the stairs to my room while Trey goes up the opposite ones to get to the boys' wing. I lay face-down on my bed, and wish life was simpler.
After about five minutes of this, I pull myself together and get ready for the Reaping. Not that there is much to do. I brush my teeth and hair first, and then get out my outfit. I only have one dress that I wear every year. It's simple; lotus green with a swoop neckline and a gather on either side at the bottom. I add a pearl necklace that was my mother's, and head downstairs to wait for my friends.
On my way down the stairs, I meet Teenan and Theranne, and Trey comes with Rilee shortly afterwards. We head to the square in silence.
By the time we arrive in the square, half of the population of District 10 has already arrived. We're about ten thousand people in all, and so it does get very crammed in there. All five of us sign in and take our places in our respective gender and age-based areas. I stand and stare at the cobblestones beneath my feet.
People continue to trickle in, and I scowl at all the girls who could be chosen instead of me.
The escort for District 10 takes the stage, met by no applause. Her name is Besia Turnvenus, and she is bizarre. Bright green hair that flows down to her waist, and she has skin that gradually turns more and more purple as it extends down the length of her arms. She is stencilled in some sort of gold swirl designs, and her finger nails are bright red. This woman like colour, it's clear to see.
Next are the mentors, but they don't catch my attention.
The mayor follows, and begins to read the history of Panem. We all revolted, Dark Days, blah blah blah. Frankly, I couldn't care less. I just wanted them to get to the girls' name. I tap my toes against the ground impatiently.
He finishes, takes his seat, and Besia steps forward once again. "Helloooo, District Ten! I am your escort, Besia Turnvenus, and I am honoured to be here for the 74th Hunger Games! Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favour! Let's get started, shall we? Girls are always first, but let's change it up a bit! Boys, here we go! Who will be our first tribute?" Besia has a terrible Capitol accent; I almost want to cover my ears.
I can't contain my impatience any longer, and I begin shaking like a leaf. But I also am thinking: Please don't let it be Trey. Please, not him.
Besia steps up to the ball of boys' names, and pull out one right from the middle. "Greyson Chelah!" she exclaims. I sigh in relief. Good, I think, I will not have to kill my best friend. I don't even know this boy. Greyson makes his way to the stage, his eyes flitting about nervously. "Do we have any volunteers?" she continues.
Of course not.
"Isn't this exciting? Time for the girls! Let's see who our lucky tribute will be!" Besia crosses over to the girls' ball and fishes for a slip of paper. I hold my breath, as do all of the girls here. For a different reason though, I assume.
"Seyrin Schmitt!"
Ugh, not again, I have to – wait a minute, that's me. I will be in the 74th Hunger Games!
Teenan gasps. Theranne faints. Rilee's eyes go blank. I can't see Trey from this angle, but I hope he reacts as well.
I hop out of my area and bounce onto the stage, doing my best not to scream of joy.
"Alright, are there any volunteers?" You could hear a pin drop. "Well then, let's have a round of applause for our District Ten tributes!" Besia clasps her hands together, and stares at the silent crowd. She tells Greyson and me to shake hands, and we head off, led by Peacekeepers, to the Justice Building.
They set me in a room to see off all of my friends and family. I don't even notice the exquisiteness of the room; I just want to get out of here.
My first visitors are Teenan, Theranne and Rilee. I wonder where Trey is. He must have requested his own session.
"Seyriiin!" They all shout, hugging me and running hands over my hair. Rilee isn't crying, because he's trying to look manly, but Teenan and Theranne are bawling their eyes out.
"You can't lose! You have to come home! Life will be unbearable without a fifth person in our group!" Teenan says between sobs. "Now we'll have the same number of boys as girls, and that isn't right!"
"You aren't even going to try, are you? You want to die," complains Rilee. I'm about to leave them forever, and he's still whining?
"I promise you all that I will play to the best of my advantage, and I won't lose my head," I say, trying to calm them down before someone hears.
"It's like you don't realize how much you really mean to us, Seyrin. Please, come home," pleads Theranne. I almost want to. But, I can't, and I won't. But that isn't what I tell her.
"Theranne, I will be okay, and will try my best to come see you again."
We all just sit together in companionable silence after that. Eventually, a Peacekeeper comes in to retrieve them, and Theranne gives me a kiss on the forehead. "Seyrin," she says, "You are the closest thing I have to family. Thank you." And just like that, all three of them walk out the door.
The next visitors were really unexpected. My mother and father. They just hug me, over and over.
"Sweetie, I don't know who you are, but I feel like I love you. Stay alive, please," my mother begs. My father nods assent.
That's all that is said, and then they were collected and left the room, after blowing me kisses.
My last visitor is, as expected, Trey. I stand up and run into his outstretched arms. Now I could see that he had been crying, because his eyes were red and puffy. "Seyrin, we're all going to miss you so much. I am going to miss you so much. All of our jokes and time spent together really means a lot to me, and I hope you come home so it never has to end," he said. That was the only speech today that drove me to tears.
"You know that I will never forget you Trey, in the arena, and when I get home," I say, choking back my sobs. I hesitate before continuing, "I have to tell you though. I lied this morning when I said I hadn't taken tesserae. I'm sorry."
"I guess I knew. It's okay. Let's just not talk about it." I smile and nod.
Our hour goes way too fast, with him talking strategy and me bringing up our old jokes. Before long, the Peacekeeper comes to take him away. He takes my face in his hands and stares into my eyes. His eyes are beautiful, as blue as the sky on a cloudless day. He leans in and kisses me, then walks out of the room.
"Trey…" I say, my voice trailing after him. But it's too late now, he's gone forever.
The Peacekeepers come in, along with Besia and my mentor, Chelah Liznie, and we set off for the train that will take me and Greyson to the Capitol, and eventually, death. I am a part of the 74th Hunger Games.
But even though I have been looking forward to this moment for ten years, my hand still lingers on the place where Trey's lips met mine.
R&R please :)