Mazianna 'Mazie' Ridge, District Nine Female (Age 14)
I passed the ball over to Flora and she began to dribble it to Clay's goal, running across the dew-covered grass. The cool air felt harsh against my face. She kicked it in and he leaped over to block it but to no avail. The ball bounced off the back of the net. Clay picked it up and tossed it to me with a joking scowl. Flora and I were practicing scoring and working as a team so all he really did was play as the goalie.
We continued for about an hour as the sun rose higher until Flora said she was tired, ran over to the bench, and opened her bag. "I have bread!" She yelled to Clay and I as we ran over. "And some other stuff." She rummaged through and pulled out three apples and a nice amount of caramel candies.
The wooden bench was only long enough for Flora and I so Clay sat on the ground in front of us. She tore the bread in thirds and passed a piece to each of us. I sunk my teeth into it, breaking through the outer crust. It was a bit stale but pleasant regardless. Nobody in Nine could afford to be picky.
Before I knew it I'd devoured all mine while the other two were about halfway done. I must've been hungrier than I thought, and almost comically, at that moment my stomach rumbled.
Flora laughed. "You full? I don't think you should have any more."
Clay grinned at me and I could feel my cheeks getting pink. I had a crush on him and that was one of the only things about myself I kept secret. I'd never trust anyone because God, it was embarrassing. It was the trope of "my best friend's brother" gone mad. Besides, he was two years older and I was sure he only saw me as a friend. I tried to ignore it as much as I could but I couldn't help it.
"Nah." I responded, reaching for an apple.
Clay took the second fruit and we munched on them in quiet for a little while. We were in the part of District Nine where food wasn't scarce but it was idiotic to waste even a tiny bit.
Once we were done Flora gave me a handful of caramels. "Reaping day treat from my mom." I hadn't had caramel since I was little. I unwrapped one and let it melt in my mouth. The flavor was good but a bit too sweet.
"Do I get any?" Clay asked. Flora threw one roughly at his head.
"Hey!" He protested, picking it up from his lap and putting it in his mouth. Hell, he was just so cute.
Flora checked her watch as I finished up my caramels. "It's eleven thirty and the Reapings are at one. Should we go back?"
I shrugged. Even the mention of the Reapings made my stomach churn. Before I turned twelve I never really cared although I knew what the Games were. I guess I was selfish in that way.
"I don't wanna." I groaned. "I hate the Reapin-"
Clay and Flora shushed me with glares before I remembered what I said. We were the only ones in this little abandoned soccer field but there was no way to know where the Capitol's cameras were and what counted as treason. I think if you insulted the President's outfit they'd execute you.
"Anyways." Clay said to break the silence. "We should get going. Mom's probably gonna make us get dressed up. See you later, Mazie." He gave me finger guns and Flora and I hugged. And I was left sitting in a field, daydreaming about a crush the day I could possibly get sent to the bloody Hunger Games.
Dakota Nettle, District Nine Male (Age 18)
The noon sun beat down on my back and the watering can was heavy and fairly hard to keep up. I walked through the field of still-green grains, pouring water over them until the soil was damp and then continuing down the line.
I was watering the left side, and my best friend Filbert the right. We usually talked up a storm (mostly me) but I was still sleepy. The work day didn't usually start until later.
Waking up early to work on the morning of the Reaping wasn't ideal, but it could be worse. Anyways, I'd rather be earning money than doing nothing with my time. I was the oldest of seven, which was a lot even by farmer standards, and three of us were too young to collect tesserae.
We reached the end of our small field and stepped over the sprouts to head back through the neighboring row.
"You're lucky you don't have to stress over the Reapings anymore." I told him as I looked off into the distance towards the other side of the meadow. "There's not really a chance I specifically am gonna be chosen but my name is in there seventy times. Things happen."
"You'll be fine." He reassured me. I was mildly surprised. Usually I had to talk a couple of times before he acknowledged me beyond a simple nod. "At your age literally all my friends and I had our names on a hundred twelve slips each. We all made it and the tribute was that preppy thirteen year old who probably had never seen a shovel in his life."
True, but that didn't mean I would evade it. "You're right. This is probably the most you've talked since last year."
He cracked a smile and we continued to water the plants. At least it was summer and watering was all we needed to do, and that was only if it wasn't raining. Planting and harvesting required way more effort and although I liked having something to do, it was just too much.
We reached the end of the field. Filbert and I waved each other goodbye and walked opposite directions down the dirt road. My house was about half a mile from work. A couple dozen other young adults and I were assigned to take care of that specific plot and were paid according to how well we did.
The sky was pale blue and cloudless. Ironically, Reaping days always seemed to be the nicest.
After about ten minutes of walking I turned onto the tiny street close to home and stepped up to the doorway. I knocked before coming in, and my girlfriend Anise was sitting at the table in the small kitchen, reading. "Dakota!" She stood up, smiled and kissed my cheek. "How was work? I would've gone but I needed to get ready." She was wearing a red dress and a bit of makeup.
"You look beautiful." I grinned at her. "It was normal. Filbert actually talked to me about the Reaping and said there was still just a tiny chance of me getting chosen."
Anise nodded. "He's very right. Seventy isn't much in the grand scheme of things."
Everything would be fine. I was stupid for worrying.
Mazianna 'Mazie' Ridge, District Nine Female (Age 14)
I stood next to Flora near the front of the fourteen-year-old girls section. It was now hot as hell and I wanted to get this show on the road. Two kids would get picked and life would go on, it was harsh but true. People died all the time, why was it all of a sudden such a big deal?
Flora was tapping her foot and fidgeting. "Come on, I'm anxious."
As if on cue, the escort, August, a flamboyant man with yellow eyes, stood up and held the microphone to his face. "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen! Or is it the afternoon?" He shrugged. "The train lag has me confused." What did that mean? Probably a stupid Capitol problem.
"We are gathered here today to select two tributes to compete in the Hunger Games for District Nine. Twenty years ago, the Capitol came to the consensus that, as punishment for the rebels' treason, each of the twelve established Districts would send two children from ages twelve to eighteen to fight to the death-"
Wow, they said the d-word. Incredible.
"-in a carefully constructed arena." He over enunciated words and often left dramatic pauses between syllables, like he was talking to a toddler.
Flora stifled a giggle. "Ah-ree-NA." She whispered and I found myself almost-laughing. How did anyone take this guy seriously?
"In these glass spheres, there are thousands of paper slips, each with a name of a boy or girl eligible for the Games. I have been granted the honor of randomly selecting our two tributes. Let us begin."
We were supposed to clap but I barely heard a sound.
My name was only in three times so I wasn't afraid. It would be some poor girl in both senses of the word, she'd die in the bloodbath, her friends would cry. I knew how it went.
August stood in front of the first jar and stuck his polished hand inside, and picked the slip on the very top.
He unfolded it and it felt like forever.
"Mazianna Ridge!"
I felt like my lungs were getting crushed for a moment before seeing red. It's damn unfair. My eyes and brain weren't catching up with my body as I pushed my way through the others and emerged with my fists clenched, shaking as I climbed the stairs.
I glared out at the crowd. My head was now clear enough to notice a group of girls my age, including Flora, looking shaken. And honestly, good. If I was going to die, I didn't owe these people a thing.
Dakota Nettle, District Nine Male (Age 18)
I felt sorry for the girl who was Reaped. She was aggressive, shoving her way up to the front, but you couldn't blame her. She was only fourteen and I understood people well enough to get that it was only a manifestation of fear. She was likely a good person in a bad situation.
I hated to admit it but I was scared I'd get chosen. Titania and Brianne were safe but Cliff had his name in 50 times and mine 70. The odds weren't in our favor. While I'd probably stand a better chance than the average tribute in the Games but I'd never kill anyone. I just didn't have it in me, and the kids from One and Two have been ruthless since the second year.
But there were thousands of names, and taking tesserae was common in District Nine. It wouldn't be me.
August's heels clicked as he walked over to the boys' bowl. I couldn't see Cliff but I kept my fingers crossed for him.
He stuck his hand in and selected the slip on the very top without hesitation. It had already been decided before my eyes. He unfolded the paper and my heart was beating faster than normal and I knew it was irrational but-
"Dakota Nettle!" His voice boomed. "Is there a Dakota Nettle here?"
Oh no. There were at least fifteen thousand slips and only seventy were mine but it had to be someone, right?
I wish I could've hugged Anise or Cliff or Filbert but the first two were in other sections of the square and Filbert was way in the back with the other adults. So I walked through the space the other boys had cleared out for me to the middle. A few gave me sorry looks as I walked to the podium.
Although there was a camera just a few feet from me, I wasn't paying attention. I scanned each section but I didn't see my family or friends at all. My heart sunk. I'd get to say goodbye for five minutes but I wanted to be sure they weren't reacting too terribly.
"Congrats to our tributes, Dakota Nettle and Mazianna Ridge!" The crowd politely applauded.
"Mazie." She muttered.
"Alright now, shake hands, you two."
Mazie looked at me. Some of the anger in her dark eyes had died down and she extended her hand. I gripped it and shook, offering her a slight smile. She didn't return it.
AN: Thanks for reading, and thanks for all the reviews on the last chapter! I appreciate every single one of you. Wherever you are right now, I'd like to ask you to drink a cup of water because I've been drinking more water lately and it's made me feel ~healthier~. And listen to Kesha's new album. Self care is important. Anyway, shout out to jul312 and Elim9 for submitting Mazie and Dakota! Questions:
1. What did you think of these two?
2. Predictions on how long they'll last?
Also, continue those little brackets (that's not the right word, my brain is dry from writing) where it shows which characters you love/hate/like/etc.! They'll be easy to use as a reference for later and help me decide who survives longer. Thank you and be sure to follow, favorite, and review!