District 44
Chapter 2
A bell. A long piercing sound. That's what we're woken up by. But me? I'd been awake for hours. I had tried to sleep but I just awoke terrified. So I just stared into the darkness, just trying to figure out all my worries.
Sleepily sitting up, I swung my legs off the bed and onto the cold hard floor. Although we have a carpet it's threadbare and still cold on my bare feet in the mornings. Even though it's spring. The flowers outside are blooming and colours fill the scenes of everyone's boring lives.
I walked over to the window and opened the blinds. The bright light of the sun glared at us through the smudged windows. I opened the window slowly and it creaked. There was no breeze. I leant out and breathed in the air, felt the warmth of the sun on my cheeks as the others left the room.
"Nice day, for a reaping." I said, under my breath.
"Vivron, close that window and prepare to be taken to the reaping. Now?" The voice said.
I spin round to see Mr Tallagh-Patch standing at the door. He is a kind, small man who wears a pair of tiny circled glasses which always sit on the end of his nose. He has hardly any hair and warm eyes that great you after you've been punished.
"Yes, Mr Tallagh-Patch." I nodded. Even though he is kind I'm scared he'd tell Mrs McClaven if I didn't do what he said, immediately. So, that leads me here. To the girls communal bathroom where no-one looks at each other, nervous faces that you may never see again. All silent. Creepy, so I just splash warm water on my face and brush my teeth not even talking to my friends.
When I finish, I walk down the corridor, which smells of damp. I turn into my dorm. On my bed, as well as everyone else's, is the customary brown shirt we have to wear. Being in sector twelve means our colour is chocolate brown. I've always despised the colour. Not because its chocolate colour and I've never eaten chocolate but because I look odd in it. Brown never really suited me. Maybe it is my hair or my skin tone but whenever I put it on I look strange. Don't suppose the Capitol care much about how the Tributes look now. Just after their chosen. So I shrug and change into the top and black trousers. I slump down on my bed and slip on the customary rubber soled shoes. Across the toes there is a stripe of brown. So they can tell where you're from but I don't think it's necessary.
I feel someone place their hands on mine and I turn to see Twila. She smiles at me but its short lived.
"Here, I was going to give it to you for your birthday but I thought I'd give you now..." Her voice quietening to a whisper.
"Just in case I'm chosen." I finish.
She hands me a small blue box.
"Open it." She whispers.
I click open the lid. Inside is a golden necklace with a round golden charm, engraved on it 'Smile'. So I do.
"You like it?" She asks.
"Of course, it'll be my token from home." I turn and hug her tightly.
Another shrieking bell that startles us. We half-heartedly smile at each other one last time and make our way down the deserted corridors, down the silent steps and out into the street. People have gathered outside their houses. The old, the young, the sick, the sick, they're all there. Watching all the girls dressed in identical clothes, walk down the road silently with their families. Of course we're escorted in a large group by Mrs McClaven and Mr Tallagh-Patch because we don't have families. Women and young girls step forward and delicately throw flowers onto the road. A tradition they do every year. It's to show hope and belief and always a goodbye. I like it. Sometimes.
I'm at the back with Mr Tallagh-Patch. I look frantically through the crowds to find him. To find my little brother. There, at the back I caught a glimpse of his pale face, tears welling up in his big brown eyes, threatening to roll but then I see Kip Clark. The boy who I trust with my life, to look after Teddy. He nods at me and I nod back. He throws something and it lands at my feet. I pick up the daisy. The flower I picked when we first met. Before I knew what was happening, I found myself unable to breathe steadily. I sway and Mr Tallagh-Patch takes my arm, and guides me on.
But my mind is still racing. Memories of Kip and Teddy crowd my brain and it starts to ache. I feel queasy. As quickly as I felt it I run to the side and throw up on the street. I feel a pair of arms wrap round me and I see Kip. His eyes full of worry.
"Vivron? Are you ok?" he asks.
"I'm fine. I'm just…just…" I stammer.
He takes my hand. "Look at me, you'll be ok. You're stronger than you realise. Show them what they want to see. Show them you won't give up, no matter what. Remember; don't show them your weakness."
I nod. I know he's right. I force myself up.
"If I don't come back, look after Ted."
"I always will." He tries to smile but just walks away.
If he is the last person I will ever speak to then I don't mind. I place the daisy in my hair and tuck my fringe behind my ear. I run and catch up with the others, not daring to look back in case I start crying or the smell of my sick makes me throw up again. The Capitol probably will see it tonight when they air all the Tributes for all the Districts. A bit of a juicy gossip even if I don't get picked because it will be a highlight of the day.
Slowly I begin to see The Hall. Inside is the reaping room, the waiting area and the multi-coloured array of ropes. Families and children are split by the Peacekeepers at the bottom of the steps. The families are guided round the back of the building whilst the girls and boys are 'signed in' at the top of the steps. This year Sector 12 has been selected for the place of reaping. Last year it was Sector 11 and next year Sector 13. This year it's 12's turn and our Hall could not be in worse condition. The steps are muddy and cracked; the walls are crumbling and dirty with vines growing up the building. Mr Tallagh-Patch and Mrs McClaven are guided with the families and I'm pushed with the shoal of children up the steps. The woman at one of the desks signals for me to come over by a weak gesture of her hand and obediently, I shakily walk over. I extend my hand. She pricks my finger and stamps the blood on the page next to my name. Vivron Matthews. Further down the list I spot Twila Mortenson. She's already inside.
"Next." Calls the woman blankly.
I step to the side and get ushered into The Hall. The waiting area is as tense as ever. The atmosphere in there is almost unbearable and I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end like they always do when I'm in public. Girls and Boys sit in their groups, in their special coloured shirts. I see Sector 33 and 40. Familiar faces with no names.
The Capitol allows us to mingle so there are no barriers up around each Sector but why would you make friends with people you might have to kill? But inside. It's different. In here, ropes (plain in colour) section off each other. Small gaps form passages. I follow another girl in the brown and sit down on a wonky, creaky chair. Twila is sat silently behind me, staring at the floor. I stare at the big screen hanging at the front of the room. Underneath is the door to the reaping room. The door to hell.
The chairs fill up fast as the children from the others Sectors arrive. Though the capitol lets us mingle out there, we are not allowed to talk to people from other Districts. We don't know anything about their lives. Well only the basic things. I look up and see the families standing up in the old archways. Looking as terrified as always. 84 groups of boys and 83 groups of girls as well as us. I see a group of boys. Sector 108, I think, has two boys at the front. A huge hunk of meat is sat next to a twig of a boy. Questions enter my head. Which would I rather see go? If I wasn't in, the hunk of meat because he'd have a better chance of winning but if I was picked, the twig. He'd be easier to kill.
Despite my size, I'm quite strong. My little legs can run fast too. I'd have a good chance. Most people from this District are thin because of the malnourishment but there are the odd few that bully the rest to get more. As long as the celebrities are ok, no-one will notice us. Just the way I like it.
The doors close, blocking out any light, and the screen flickers to life. The voice of Conrad Sanford, the Games interviewer, booms out of the sound system:
"Welcome, one and all, to the 93rd Annual Hunger Games. I hope you are all comfortable and relaxed. You are in excellent hands here. Let's begin."
The seal of Prime Minister Snow is replaced by images of the revolution in Panem.
"The Mockingjay. A harmless creature? Or an instrument of death?"
The screen has images of burning buildings and people running for shelter. Then a still of Katniss Everdeen.
"Katniss Everdeen. A young girl, who had taken part in two Hunger Games, grew into the Mockingjay. She became dangerous to the Capitol. To life. That's why, she was destroyed. For five years now Panem has lived in peace from this Mockingjay, under the rule of the Capitol. Today 119 of you will be picked to honour your Sectors. Make sure you make them proud and may the odds be ever in your favour."
The seal returns and the crowd is absolutely silent. Not even a squeaking of a chair can be heard. We're all looking at the screen, not daring to look anywhere else. My heart beats faster and I feel tiny beads of sweat forming on my forehead. I wipe them away and take in a deep breath. This is it, I think. The doors to the reaping room swing open and June Sorbie, the escort for District 44, walks out. She's dressed even more ridiculously this year. Her hair swirls around her head and shoulders in its shiny purple colour and her eye's match. The makeup is dark blue and she wears a puffy navy blue dress with ridiculously high studded boots. The biggest fashion craze to hit the Capitol since bejewelled eyelashes. I don't really understand their concept of beauty but it doesn't really concern me.
"Welcome to this special day! I hope you feel lucky!" She smiled a little too much; it made me shift in my seat. "Let's start. Sector 1, please. Come on, quickly now."
She waddles back into the reaping room and I catch a glimpse of the round glass bowl full of names. Reluctantly a group of boys stands up and walks through the doors which close, immediately, behind them.
And so it begins.