District 11
Petal Combs. Age: 16.
Sunshine is the one thing that makes this place truly wonderful. Sure, people can see we've got it hard enough that most of us are working before we're even eligible to be Reaped which is basically some sort of warped coming-of-age, but it is nice to have relatively good weather all year. Especially when there's sun though. Sometimes you have to look at the bright spots in order to get through the day, or life just starts to become a very dark place.
It's not odd to hear most of us singing though no matter how bad the day has been. It makes the time go faster even though everything seemed a little more subdued today. The Reaping always puts people on edge with plenty of good reason. There was a lot of worry that went around when you were wondering who was going to end up getting pulled out at the reaping. I just kept my head held high and hoped for the best. "Whatever will be will be" sort of thing. Maybe I'm putting too much into the idea that we all have some sort of fate and part to play. After all, I'm just a teenager from District 11, not some Capitol politician with people's lives in my hands.
Sometimes I wondered what it would be like to go to the Capitol though and see what all the people were like. If our escort was any indication every year they had to at least be a colorful bunch. Then I was never sure if Mercutio's style was more for our benefit or just the way things were out of the Capitol. We had about the same number of colors except they had somehow managed to brighten them to the point that it almost hurt your eyes. Maybe everything here was just coated in a fine layer of dirt that kept it from shining quite as much.
My two siblings end up coming by to bring me back home. I just wave farewell to the boy I've been working with most of the afternoon trying to get apples pulled before they fall to the ground. He's quiet, but we work well together since he is one of the few people that doesn't mind my singing all of the time. Not much for conversation, but at least he's dedicated to keep up with his work and therefore keeps me on track as well. Otherwise I have a bad habit of getting distracted and forgetting what I'm supposed to be doing while being fascinated with the leaves. Too few people take time just to appreciate the beauty around us rather than looking for something that might be a little more shiny. I've made entire crowns of leaves just for my older sister even though Dixy thinks I need to leave my childish notions behind. No matter how bad things get though, there will always be something beautiful about the out-of-doors no matter what she says.
She has that same look when I start twirling around on the way home. The girl who doesn't want to grow up and forget what it is to have fun... Just because she's getting older and considering getting married and all doesn't mean that she has to ruin my fun. "Up we go. You're going to make us too late to have time to eat." And with that Isaac just picks me up and tosses me over his shoulder with me in a fit of giggles, especially when I see Dixy's frown. We're the two that need to be afraid for our lives today but she's the one that's going to get premature wrinkles because of it. It's not like I'm wearing a skirt and letting him show off my underwear to everyone who walks by us. By now you'd think they would be used to the three of us making out like we don't have a care in the world.
As soon as we're done getting a few bites to eat, there's just about enough time to get ready and head back out again. If we're lucky they'll call off work for the rest of the day. In the end it all just matters how well we've done over the morning that they'll be able to manage until tomorrow. Then climbing a few more trees isn't the worst thing that could happen.
Laurel Arbour. Age: 16.
No matter how hard she tries, Breeze can't seem to find just the right words to describe what the birds sound like that flutter around the orchards all pleased with themselves. She has tried a lot of things over the years, but nothing seems to really make sense to me even though I just smile over at her. I know it has to frustrate my little sister to have to stand there and have other people think she's lost control of her arms and hands until I start doing the same. Most parents finding out their child is deaf would probably have just left me out to die rather than put up with the difficulties, but I also have extraordinary parents. At least when I've managed this long in life without too many issues. It probably helped when they had Breeze who was perfectly healthy and would spend the rest of her days trying to figure out how to explain why she liked the sound of rain in the evenings and that thunder isn't the same as an earthquake though it can feel that way to me.
Think it's going to rain later? Everything seems to be pointing that direction from the smell in the air. One advantage is that my other senses are a little better to make up for the lack of the one. She looks up at the sky where all the clouds are still perfect puffy white and just shrugs. It's possible, but she apparently doesn't think that it's likely.
"Might be good if it does so the crops don't end up drying out." She's gotten skilled at talking and signing at the same time so I can also practice reading her lips to match the signs. Even the foreman in charge of our orchard only knows a handful of signs and most of them are fruits so I know where I need to be going.
It would be good. And you always like it when it rains. She just smiles to herself and goes to grab her bag before throwing a dark crescent shaped roll at me. Mom and Dad aren't going to be home anyhow so it's far more enjoyable to just spend lunch out in the open air before we have to get cleaned up. It's easy enough to tell from the way that she picks at her own however that she's scare the odds aren't going to slide in her favor today. Every year it's the same thing and every year we've gotten pretty lucky even though Are you going to be alright? You look like you need a good hug.
She just looks over with a small glare. "Your girlfriend needs a good hug."
She's not my girlfriend. Leave it to annoying sisters to bring up your crush that would never look at you twice. It's not exactly like I can easily provide for her with everything she deserves. She's just very nice and all you have to say is that you'll be fine. It's just one more Reaping.
"I'll be fine. It's just one more Reaping." She rolls her eyes however and adds an extra rude gesture to the end. I just shake my head and go back to eating. I know in a lot of ways she's had to be the strong one of the two of us even if I am the older, but it also don't mean that she can't show just a small moment of weakness when it's just the two of us. She's scared probably more than I am over the whole situation. If you pretend it's just another day, it makes things a little more tolerable to get through. Another day that just involves a large assembly where I have to stand there and slowly start figuring out more of what they're actually saying every year. Apparently it doesn't change all that much except for the names that get called. Our former Victors get a little older and we still don't manage a new one to take their place. At least we have more than one still alive I guess. Rumor has it the Victor of the 53rd games from District 5 committed suicide in his house after his fifth Hunger Games as mentor. I can't imagine what that has to be like and a large part of me never wants to find out.
I still put an arm around her in a partial hug on the way home and stay hands off for the walk down to the Justice Building. She can't just let her friends see how much she'd like to be able to just hold onto her brother and avoid having to think about what might happen in the next hour. This year I can almost make out the entire speech from the mayor before our lavender Escort Mercutio comes up and leaves me back in the dark trying to make sense of the names. The first one comes from the girl's side and I'm glad it's not my sister even though I know the girl in question all too well. Petal Combs, who was just this morning working with me in the apple orchard and being her usual happy self. Now she just looks a little worried, but still trying to smile at everyone while Mercutio grabs another name. Again I'm left in the dark while looking around after the name is called trying to figure out who it is since no one seems to be moving to head up there. While everyone else just seems to be looking at me instead until someone points at me and then the stage with the two words I don't want to see on his lips.
"It's you."
District 12
Wren Bonas. Age: 14.
The afternoon meal is an unusually solemn affair. One first, one last, and then me sitting in the middle hoping like the other two that I'm not going to get picked. Then it almost always ends up being kids from the Seam and the number of names in the bowls multiplied last year and will likely only do so again since the mine explosion. Dad ended up being one of the "lucky" ones, but you wouldn't know it from talking to him. Even people outside of The Seam probably think he would be rather off dead with his right arm gone, save about six inches. His hair has thankfully grown back, but even he's in a grumpier mood than usual. If Bear gets reaped, he's off for the Hunger Games. If he doesn't, he's off to join the mine crew which seems like just as much of a death sentence. Perhaps not actual death, but when you spend most of your time coughing from the amount of coal dust that collects in your lungs while you're watching your siblings and eventually your kids get plucked off to be sent to some games… Well it doesn't seem like too much of a life.
Usually we'd at least be trying to laugh a little about the events of the day or something we might have seen while sneaking around the Hob looking to find bits and bobs to sell. There are a few kids that go out beyond the gates to hunt for extra food and such, but I don't want to think what would happen if they got caught doing it. We usually just end up picking dandelion greens since it's the one thing we know actually is edible. Otherwise we'd probably end up with one of us picking out some poisonous berries and hopefully told that before we ate one.
The one advantage to having two brothers though is the knowledge that at least you'll never have to fight one of them in the Hunger Games. Unless they decide the quarter quell will be a free-for-all. That's four years away though… Even so I can't help but look over at Lark who is eating down his porridge like someone is going to swoop into the house and steal it from him. By then we'll be 18 and 16 and probably just about as strong as we are now which is going to lead for at least a relatively quick death. He looks happy though when I push my bowl over toward him and he gets a few bites before Bear steals it away. My stomach is in too many knots now to do much more except get changed and ready to go.
What would I do? After this year I'm not going to be fighting my older brother to let me at least be responsible for my own tessera. I even took Lark's on this year so he would at least get a little more sleep. He's too soft to probably even get out of training. It would be the first ever training score of 1. Could I even get myself to go and volunteer though?
No. I know my own fear is too great even while I brush my hair out and just frown at the mirror. It feels like a noose is tightening itself around my neck even after undoing my top button. I still have to get through today before I have to worry about anything like the 75th Games and just hope Haymitch is drunk enough to settle my nerves a bit with a little chuckle. Or even our still-getting-used-to-being-stuck-with-District-12 Effie Trinket from the Capitol with her pale as the moon face and bubblegum pink hair. Something to stop the twisting in my stomach...
I wonder what would happen if I just went and hid in the mine until I was too old for these stupid Games. Even that doesn't keep lunch from coming back up.
Talia Irons. Age: 15.
Even wrapped up I can't imagine the piece of fudge is going to last long in my pocket. I know mom tucked it in there to give me a little bit of something sweet while waiting for them to call names at the Reapings. We're all a nervous bunch, but at least business will likely pick up later today for those that can afford to stop by and spend a bit of money on sweets. Dad always marks down the candy sticks on Reaping Day, and I'll still be flitting about in my dress giving out samples to the kids that end up just standing outside and too afraid to go in because they know what money they have needs to be saved. Then there's also a whole pound of fudge sitting in the back for the next time the Hawthorne boy stops by with fruit and nuts he's collected. It's an extra for all the other times he's brought us something and usually gets paid in cash. He's kind of cute in that "oh dear god my mother would kill me" sort of way. My mother might be a kind woman, but the day I start dating a coal miner is when I'm likely to get disowned for good. My brother has it a little easier, but then he's also at the stage where girls are "gross". Meanwhile I'm too busy trying to learn the ins and outs of the business to get too involved with boys.
As usual it seems hotter and dustier out in front of the Justice Building than anywhere else in 12. Things never quite seem this bad in the other Districts, but then you don't get to see much of their Reapings either. I just try to keep calm and rock back and forth on my shoes waiting for Ms. Trinket to start her usual welcoming and wishing us all for the odds to be in our favor. Then I think if the odds were in everyone's favor, they would have discontinued this whole senseless thing that is only used to prove that the Capitol still holds the power and we're still clamoring for attention as Victors. I could say 12 isn't exactly known for its victors, but ours is rather memorable. At least as far as one can be for being the best known District Drunk. He keeps most of us amused, but I'm not sure how well his tributes think of him if that is all he does in the Capitol as well. After all, he's the only lifeline we have in this District between the Arena and the outside world. I can only hope I never have to find out what life would be like with Haymitch Abernathy as my Mentor.
I just sigh and start putting through my head everything that needs done as soon as we're done here. It never fails that time will drag when you least want to be somewhere and yet race the moment that its over. Focusing on that is keeping me with the same stern determined face while waiting to hear which of the girls is going to get reaped this year. Too often it's the poor kids from "The Seam" who end up-
"Talia Irons."
… Not getting Reaped. I pull my hands out of my pockets and try not to look over at the kids on either side of me while I'm passing them. There's no volunteers and nothing that is going to be able to save me now except myself. For a moment I consider trying a smile, but I know any change in expression is going to make me completely fall apart and into tears. Instant bravery in the face of this is just pure foolishness.
"Wren Bonas."
The boy has to make as much of a walk as I did if not a little further back which means he's probably around the same age group. Perhaps I'll have an ally in all of this after all rather than some 18 year old that thinks that I'm not worth the trouble of trying to help in the slightest. He definitely has the look of someone from the Seam, but hopefully that means he already knows how to fight for survival if nothing else. And maybe one of us will actually manage to make it back in the end.
Currently though, I'm not sure it'll be me.
A/N: And with that we finish the Reapings, so from here on you're only going to get three PoV's until we hit the arena (which means everyone shows up one more time each). There is also a poll in my profile to let me know your favorite tributes, and who knows? You might save one I have scheduled for the Bloodbath. And please review. They make me very happy.