A/N: Dedicating this chapter to KinaHensen, and highly suggest reading her Hunger Games FanFic, Stolen.
Happy reading!
District 9
Ruffian Boot. Age: 16.
The sun can quickly become your worst enemy when you're out in it all of the time. Everything is quick to heat up and then you feel like your body is about ready to boil your skin off. Or at least that's how it feels shortly before noon when they finally call for the afternoon break and we can take a moment to ourselves. If you start early enough, you might fill your quota and be able to leave for the day within a few hours of dinner. Day in and day out it's the same thing for me. Wake up, work out in the fields for a few hours, maybe go to school, but only if I want to be working again until the moon is the best light I've got to see. Wheat is not something that builds up quickly either if you've ever had to try and put together a bushel. Especially for something that is going to be pounded down into flour and other products.
By mid-day my muscles are already sore from the long morning before everyone gets sent off to view or line up for the Reapings. Thousands of kids all hoping they won't be the one who has to go off to the Capitol and fight in their Games. I already know the odds are well against me even though my family is not that large. Everything can add up between four people that don't get to keep the slightest bit of what we harvest. It's no wonder that there is a direct correlation between the eldest child of a family usually being the one drawn and the fact that we're usually the ones expected to take the Capitol handouts in exchange for an extra lottery ticket of death. It can make someone wonder if people have large numbers of children to ensure one of them has the possibility of going to the Games and becoming a Victor or so they'll have extras in case one of them goes and ends up dying.
My sister would fall into the latter category. She's weak and wouldn't last more than a few minutes, especially up against the kids that train for this. If there were a way to keep her safe and out of all of it, I would have liked to figure it out before now. She wouldn't even make for much of a show other than to add to the costumes of blood and gore.
The mere thought of it just sends shivers down my spine while I watch her innocently combing her hair back into a ponytail after insisting that she can take care of everything herself this year. I probably shouldn't be considering what I've been considering. Wait another year and then see how things turn out. I wasn't brought up to be one of the cold blooded killers looking to just entertain the crowds with whatever the Capitol wants, but then I also don't want to be stuck here forever either. Plus I already know my name is going to be in there 20 times. Plus I could end up saving the life of some poor kid that doesn't have a shot. A dose of good karma would probably be helpful anyhow for this venture.
Volunteer. Impress the Careers. Outlive them all.
There hasn't been a victor in my lifetime at least so it seems about time that someone actually be able to bring back a little bit of dignity to the District. We might not have a Victor that gets drunk all of the time, but it would still be nice not to be laughed at when people are wondering what we do here that Eleven couldn't do better and probably longer with their growing seasons.
Mary twirls around a few times in her dress just to show it off. Hopefully if I do this she'll be able to wear a lot more pretty dresses. I might not be able to keep her safe from the Reapings until after she turns 19, but at least I'd be able to do everything in my power to protect her if it did happen.
Ava Rayns. Age: 18.
Katerina and I have been best friends ever since Briar Rosalind grabbed her by the pigtails in first grade and informed her that she was "sharing her candy or else". At five years old I was a lot braver than I am now. Briar ended up with a ripped dress and a mouthful of sand and I ended up getting kept in from recess for a week, a best friend, and two pieces of her caramels. Thirteen years later we're both working with overlarge brimmed hats and trading gossip back and forth while we walk the rows of corn. Any more it's the only time we get to just talk and be two teenage girls that will soon be past their last Reaping so we only have to worry about our younger siblings. Plus Kat only has to do this part time since her parents do well enough that she's never wanted for much.
"We should just get a cake. A very large lovely cake that neither of us is going to want to actually do anything but look at for a while. And then we'll eat it and that will be supper… And probably breakfast tomorrow since I still intend on this not being a small cake." She holds her hands up to make her point, intent on it being a good size around as well as tall. "Triple layer. Chocolate."
"You're going to make us both sick on chocolate cake." I just laugh as I now she'll do it too. After surviving seven Reapings we should all just be allowed to have cake and toast our fourteen tributes that allowed us to still be here to take care of the District and go on to continue into the future. I often wonder however what they would do if we all just decided to stop having kids and in 18 years there would be no one to send to the Games at all. Knowing the Capitol though, they'd catch on and we'd be forced to have kids or face imprisonment. What's possibly worse is that we can call this our last all we want… We're still going to have to show up every year and be one of the helpless bystanders who can't do anything about it. People might whisper of rebellion, but we also know all too well what happened during the Dark Days.
"That's the point. First though I'm going to pull you back to my house because I have the most perfect dress that will bring out the blue in your eyes and would even make District 1 jealous." This is one of the many reasons I love her. Even on the worse of days she's trying to find a little bit of sunshine and a good reason to be happy. Practically adults and she's going to have me all dressed up more for her perfect plotting of chocolate cake with the likely addition of tea. If we stay positive enough maybe we will just beat out this last year and settle down into some level of domestic bliss. Maybe she can even finally tell her parents she has a boyfriend.
Two hours later she has me completely dolled up for the occasion in a pale blue dress and hair done up in a loose bun that she's managed to keep up with a well placed hair clip. For once I really do feel a little pretty with the eye shadow to match the dress and just a touch of lip gloss. She's about ready to start laughing at me just standing in front of the full length mirror trying to take it all in. You'd think she was trying to set me up for a date instead… Then it's hard to put much past Katerina.
"Let's get going, Ava. We don't want to leave your adoring public waiting too long. Besides I want to be there to see Briar's face when she shows up in that same dress that would get her milked over in District 10... Seriously, I'm wondering if the seams will even stay together long enough to last the whole time." I smile a little to myself and just nod. Even after all this time Briar is still going o be a bully, but she still doesn't dare to mess with either of us. We would probably be better off if she got Reaped, but the odds of that are likely not much in our favor.
"Mom first, then Briar." Just one more… In a few hours all my worries can just be centered on hoping one of my friends doesn't end up being the one whose name is pulled. Nor my brother for that matter, but Tycho is still in the middle when it come to how many times he'll be put into the Reaping ball. His whole "manly pride" gets wounded whenever one of us scolds him for considering taking out the extra grain supply instead of me. Apparently you're only allowed to protect someone if you're the same sex.
We have a little time to wander and stop to see my parents to show off the dress before we're required to sign in and line up right up front. It always seems a little odd that the older you get the better view you get of everything going on. Then you would also think most of the tributes would be 18 years old after all of the time we've had to collect up tesserae. The twelve year olds seem to have just as much to fear as the rest of us. As always, Roan is in good spirits above and beyond wanting to be able to go to a slightly nicer district that doesn't involve amber waves as far as the eye can see. Perhaps it sounds more idyllic than it really is…
"Let's first found out who our brave young woman will be for his year's tribute." If I could move certain names into his hand I would, but Katerina just takes my hand and gives it a squeeze while we wait for the verdict. No more after this… No more… "Ava Raynes!"
No. No… This can't be happening. I was supposed to be having chocolate cake tonight and flirting with boys and not listening to Briar behind me just snickering. I have to do my best to get the stunned look off of my face though as I make the quick trip up to the stage. Roan just looks me over appraisingly like he's hoping with a little Capitol work I might manage to survive the bloodbath and get a couple of sponsors. My face has a harder time keeping impassive though when he pulls out the boy's name. "Tycho Raynes!" My parents are already looking near hysterical as I can see them from here and Roan just glances over while Tycho is coming to the stage. "I'll about eat my suspenders if that's not your brother." I just nod numbly. First I get reaped with the knowledge only one of us is going to get out alive and now I'm going to have to go up against my own brother? What kind of extra twisted world is this?
"I'll volunteer!" … Certainly not words one usually hears in District 9 as a tall boy I don't even know comes up to take my brother's place. Tycho doesn't look nearly as relieved as I would hope, but what are you going to do when no one volunteered for your sister? I can't help but look at the young man across from me with a little bit of happiness. At least I'm not going to the Capitol with my own family being in the Arena with me. I'm scared out of my mind, but at least I can manage a smile while he introduces himself.
Ruffian Boot, my hero.
District 10
Cinnamon Sallee. Age: 12.
Sometimes it feels like you're probably the only twelve year old that has to have seven entries already into the reaping. Legitimately I should have about as much chance as any of the 18 year old kids who have had it good off in life, but everyone also knows how that goes. If they don't get drawn then there's no more to worry about. If I don't get drawn, I'm still going to have eight plus whatever we end up needing to last out the winter. Sometimes it really sucks being the oldest one of the family with three younger siblings. Though they're sitting at home eating while I'm grabbing one of the rolls off the table and running off to check on my piglets. We ended up with six that I'm responsible for making sure their mother gets fed well enough to keep them growing. Paprika will probably come out to help after bit, but she gets to stay in for now. My work is her work for another year until she can join in and probably be put with another group of pigs. Some day I'll be old enough to join on with dad getting to take care of and milk the cows, but for now the pigs need my attention as one comes up to push its snout against my leg while I sit on the fence eating.
"Mine. Go find your own food." I have to pull my legs up when it decides that the best way to get me in and steal my breakfast is grabbing the bottom of my pants and pulling. "Stop it or I'll have you turned into bacon!" Idle threats since I don't have the power to really do that or suggest it, but apparently it knows the words "bacon", "ham", and "pork chops" are all hazardous to its ability to come and bug me every morning. It gives me the chance to finish though before getting to work cleaning out the pen and feeding them their morning slop. It's terribly depressing when the animals usually end up eating better than most of the District, but stealing food from them is as bad as trying to take it from the mayor's backyard. It's why I've ended up stressing out over today more than usual for most of the kids in my class. "At least you'll never have to go and fight a bunch of other pigs just in order to stay alive."
They just snort in approval.
Mom takes her time when I get home just brushing out my hair and doing it into two braids. Cayenne and Spice just sit and watch while playing around with their shared toys. Neither one really quite gets why we have the Hunger Games and why I'm so worried. Death is a concept that you can try to explain, but the idea of something being gone forever seems too foreign. Then Spice wasn't even born yet when baby Saffron got a bad cold the winter after she turned two. We couldn't afford the medicine to make her better and nothing that we had ended up working until she ended up dying in mom's arms.
Personally I'd rather not go visiting my baby sister any time in the near future which is why I'm trying to do everything not to cry before we even end up at the Justice Building. No twelve year old that I've known of has ever managed to win the games, and if they did it was a fluke that probably won't be repeated. Everyone wants a victor that looks perfect and not some skinny girl who hasn't even blossomed into any semblance of womanhood. Flat chested and probably able to pull off being a boy if I just cut all my hair off. Maybe if I hope and pray really hard I can at least manage a few more years.
Baylor Rosien. Age: 17.
"Baa baa black sheep, have you any wool? Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Three bags full." I know even dad is going to be giving me looks over the dirt streaked across my face and through my hair when I get home, but out here I can get that tiny bit of freedom taking care of the sheep and making sure none of them get lost while Stormy just rests his head in my lap. The poor dog is almost as old as I am, but at least the only thing he's had to worry about is doing his job. Dad trained him to kelp keep the sheep herded together. Every night though for as long back as I can remember he would be quick to come home and start licking over my face like I might have left food there. I'd say he was getting a little gray, but then he's always been gray and white and leaving hair about everywhere in the house. Another thing I'm going to be getting scolded over when I get home. Covered in dirt, dog hair, and generally looking like I've been sleeping outside keeping an eye out for wolves that might want to pick off one of the flock, we manage to get them all inside where they'll have to stay while everyone is off at the Reapings. Then if the wolves get them it's the Capitol's business to ignore it as they usually do.
And as well expected, Mom is throwing close to a fit within a minute of coming in the door. "Bay, we have to be leaving here in twenty minutes if we don't want to end up being late and you're looking like an absolute disaster."
"Actually I'm hoping if I look bad enough Prospero will just take one look at me and be…" It takes just half a second to get the right nasal voice complete with proper Capitol accent. "Oh no, this will just never do. Could we perhaps find someone else that would be more… suitable for this fine, fine honor of being the lamb led to slaughter? Ah heeeem." Sadly the only one who looks the slightest bit amused is Reed. Born a few weeks earlier he would have already been finished with Reapings, but at least he appreciates my somewhat warped sense of humor today.
"You have to admit he has our Capitol lackey about dead on though. Though I'm not sure Spero would appreciate your levity concerning his constant head cold." Reed just nods seriously and lets me get past with Stormy and up to our room where the poor ball of fluff can stay while we are out.
Mom's appeals win again though as I'd rather not have her in here trying to take care of washing my face and shaving before putting on the outfit already set out for me. Stormy just lays on the bed and watches me rushing to get dressed in my best clothes while my hair is still dripping down on my shoulders. Thankfully not being a girl means I can just run my fingers through it while running down the stairs and present myself for parental inspection. Not perfect, but we don't have time for that and with any luck I'll have dried off before they get around to the actual calling of names.
Like ever year since I turned twelve, Reed sticks to the back of his section while I stand right behind him in the front of mine. At first it was because I was terrified of being there and now it's so I can try to keep us both calm with whatever assortment of bad jokes I've come up with while outside being a shepherd.
Why was the lamb told off for being rude? He would not say 'thank ewe' to his mom.
What did the well mannered sheep say to his friend at the field gate? After ewe.
What do you get if you cross a chicken with a cement mixer? A brick-layer.
Who tells chicken jokes? Comedihens.
Most of the kids in our sections are pretty much used to us muttering back and forth and occasionally find a bit of amusement. The only time we stop is after they start calling up the girl like they always do. This time it's a little thing from the back of the section that is wiping her cheeks even up on stage. You can't help but be sure that she doesn't have much of a chance unless she's hiding some impressive skills. I reach over while they're fishing for the other name and just place a hand on Reed's shoulder. And the last name they call is his, but the first name most definitely wasn't. Prospero is calling my name a second time before they manage to get me out of my state of shock enough to remember this is still the Hunger Games and any sign of weakness is going to be plenty of reason to attack me.
I'll cry later.