Chapter 8

Reapings

Almost Easy

Wade Fairbain. 18 years old. District 11.

I've hunted all morning, but so far I haven't caught much. I walk towards my house where I'm sure I'll get scolded by my mother for taking so long on the reaping day. I can't help it though, hunting relieves the fear that builds inside of me when this day comes. Luckily, and the only reason for me to be slightly happy today is that this will be my last reaping. However, I can't feel too good for this, my two sisters are still within the age gap, and it scares me to death that they have the chance of going to the Games. I know this is my mother's case too. She is normally strict, but she lets it get the worst out of her around this day. I'm sure it is all due to the nerves, she doesn't want to lose any of her children, and neither does my dad.

I have the habit of going over my chances on the reaping day, because I must be ready for the worst. But, I can only picture the worst as getting myself reaped. My sisters getting reaped is just unthinkable. I know hunting will be a huge bonus for me, as well as the knowledge my dad taught me of which plants are edible and which aren't. I also have good stamina, and physical strength. I could stand a chance in the arena. But, I obviously don't wish to take the risks of going in there. Every now and then, I think in the "What if I won?", instead of the "What if I get reaped?", and when I look it in that way at it doesn't seem as bad. It seems almost easy. Almost.

Fawn Halley. 14 years old. District 11.

I make my way towards the town square, slowly dribbling the bodies of the other kids in my section. It would be useful if I could say something for them to know that I'm trying to pass, but I can't. I've wondered many times what happened if a mute person wanted to volunteer... How would they do if they can't shout it? Would they run towards the stage? Would they throw their hands in the air? It would be interesting to see that happening. I finally reach the place I'm supposed to be in. I look towards those who are old enough not to get reaped, and see my mother and my father on the sidelines. They look at me, and she moves her hands in a sign I understand very well, she is telling me "we love you", I reply with a reassuring smile, even though I'm not very confident on the results of the reapings. It might be me. I look to the stage and get more nervous and scared than I was, it always happens when the reaping day comes. What if I get reaped? I probably won't have a chance. At least, I wouldn't get poisoned by plants... And, I can hunt. My mom will probably cry, she is very fragile... Dad will probably clench his fist to the sides, but he'll know better than to fight against the Games and the Capitol.

Trying to think in something else I look at the mentors, the only ones from this district that haven't disappeared in the Arena, the ones who came back. A sign of hope for all of us, especially for people like me that are within the reaping age. First, I look at Ruth, she is hard to miss, and will only lose to Sixta, our escort. It is known that Ruth loves Capitol fashion and she shows it. Those bright pink lips and excess of makeup are proofs of it. She looks rather bored, but I know she is there for a reason. She'll guide the two tributes, share her knowledge with them. And, the same goes for Harvey. He looks at the crowd absently, and in contrast to her, he looks more reserved... Like trying to camouflage with the chair or something.

Fear hits me again, and this time I can't seem to get distracted by whats on the stage aside from those bowls in which my name, along with the one of the others, is in. Please, Please... I don't want to get reaped. I don't want to.

Ruth Cox, District 11. Victor of the 53rd Hunger Games.

I'm on the stage, sitting beside Harvey and I can't wait for this to finish already. I want to head for the Capitol, have the amazing food they serve and all the commodities. But, first I have to wait for the two brats that will come with us. They will be weaklings for sure, just as every other year. Not that I care. I hope they die fast, if they do, I'll be able to spend the rest of my time doing whatever I want, instead of going to the sponsors and appear as if I was trying to make them come back, I could enjoy the party itself if it wasn't for them.

The major stands up and starts his speech, the same as every year. I know it already so I don't bother to listen, it doesn't say anything important either way. I scan over the crowd, looking at all this weaklings. They don't look promising at all. Good. People believe that as a mentor I should care, that I should look forward to bringing my district's tributes back. But, I couldn't care less. They only cause troubles and I hate being a babysitter. So, whatever... If they die, it's their fault for being so useless and lame. Harvey was my only mentor, he didn't do anything, and I still won. I came back as a victor by my own means, they should all be capable of doing the same. But no. They arrive to the train and keep asking questions, looking expectantly at me, as if I had the key for their success. Well, I don't. They suck and it can't be helped. The tributes from this year will just die like the others, and if I'm lucky enough in the bloodbath. I see the faces of some mentors in my head, the painful or angry expressions they put when their tributes die, the key for doing this job without having it ruining you is not to get attached to the two kids that will go to the slaughter. It's logical and simple to do.

Finally the escort takes a step forward, and I take a second to admire her appearance. I like it. Capitol fashion has always appealed my eyes, and her curly blonde hair with the pink make up, and long lashes looked fabulous. However, I wouldn't have used those light blue heels, with the yellow skirt and orange blouse.

Her fingers move inside the bowl, until she finally picks a paper with the tip of her long red nails.

-"Fawn Halley!" she announces. There is movement in the fourteen years old section and in there stood a little pale girl. She can't possibly be fourteen! I can't help but smile, she is dead meat for sure! I mean, she looks like a ten years old. The small girl makes her way towards the stage after a moment, keeping a straight face. Oh girl, don't even bother to look strong for the cameras, they know people like you have no chance.

Next she goes on to the male tribute, and it can't get any better than this. I'm already halfway free, I just need another weakling so I don't have to put up the act of helping Harvey with the male tribute.

-"Wade Fairbain!" announces Sixta. I roll my eyes when I see movement in the eighteen years old section. Why couldn't he be another helpless kid? A blond muscular guy comes out, looking rather confident. Oh no... I hate this sort of tributes! The ones that think they have a chance, and worst than that, the ones who actually have it. I guess I won't be able to have a good time after all, unless he is just looks, which I hope like nothing else.

AN: Sorry for the long wait! I've been busy 1) Vacations with no internet, 2) Merciless teachers at school. But, I'm back and I hope I'll be able to update soon, even when I doubt it'll be as soon as I did in the beginning.

Also, pardon my rusty writing skills, it's been a while.