Reapings

District Twelve

Persephone "Perry" Aster (16) D12F

I leaned against Caspian and stared at the pond in front of us. This was our regular spot. His house in the Victor's Village was nice and simple and I liked the garden, mainly because of this pond. A very tensed girl was staring back at me. She had dark blond hair, and almond shaped eyes, very pale blue, filled with intense sadness and anxiety. She had full lips, in somewhat of a pout, and lots of freckles on her face. I was not very proud of my appearance, especially since I was short too.

Caspian didn't mind though. He never minded anything. Maybe that's why I loved him. He had opened my eyes and shown me the true horrors of the Games.

A couple of years back, Caspian had volunteered to go into the Games instead of his brother. I was, at the time, jealous of him. Ever since I was a young girl, I had been surrounded by fanatics who were die-hard Hunger Games fans. Naturally, I was one too. The reason behind that was simple- my mom had won the Games in her time. I was not proud to say that she had been pretty ruthless. Monstrous even. She had enjoyed it. She wanted us to volunteer for a death-match. Naturally, that was what my sisters and I learned too. But when Caspian returned as a Victor I saw how drastically he had changed. He was… broken. I was shocked, to say the least. My family always said it was an honourable and fun experience to go in the arena.

Caspian shattered my belief. He told me everything he went through in the arena. The tears he shed made me realise what a monster I was to want to volunteer. Slowly we became friends, despite the four years age gap and then… I didn't even realise when we became more than just friends. But it was nice, having someone reliable, someone who cared about me genuinely.

I disliked my sisters. I tried so hard to make them understand that training was wrong, that the thought of going to the games was wrong, that their idea of honour was wrong. All because of a sadist mother. I hated her, all she wanted was blood and money.

"What are you thinking?" Caspian asked as he gently squeezed my hand.

"Nothing," I replied, already feeling a little angry due to the thoughts of my mom.

"You're lying."

"So what if I am? It's none of your business," I said furiously, immediately regretting it.

Caspian's shoulders slumped and he smiled apologetically at me.

"I'm sorry Cas," I said, giving him a hug, "I didn't mean to- you know how annoying they can be! She wants me to volunteer, that old hag!"

"I know," he answered, returning my hug, "But you won't do something that stupid, right?"

"Of course not. I'm planning on spending my life with you, not waste it away in that daunting place."

Caspian gave a light chuckle which brought a smile to my face. He was always so sad, as if thousands of horrible thoughts were going through his head at once. A simple laugh was a good change to see.

"Are you ready to mentor, Cas?"

"Not really Perry," he replied, his smile gone, replaced by an almost terrified expression that kind of made me feel guilty for raising the subject, "I got away from it last time but it won't happen again. I'm- I'm scared, Perry."

"No need to be scared," I replied, "You know? Just bomb the capitol if you get the chance."

He grinned. "I'll try that."

"And tape the whole scene for me. Better still, invite me over and we'll just enjoy it together."

"Sounds like a good idea."

For the next few minutes we just sat quietly, although it was not in my nature to be quiet. I loved being around people and having fun, but right now sitting with Caspian in silence seemed to be a much better alternative.

"Is any of your sister planning to volunteer?" he asked finally.

"No," I replied, "Teresa will do so next year. Others are still training."

He looked at me intensely and I shrugged. My sisters and I didn't get along any more, not since I started seeing Caspian. They wanted to please mom. So be it.

Standing up, I said, "Reapings will start soon. I must go."

Caspian took me in an embrace for far too long. I could feel his nervousness, his fear. Clutching his shoulder hard, I stared at him.

"Mentoring will be okay."

"Perry, I am worried about you. I-I just hope you aren't Reaped. It would be too much for me…"

"Nothing will happen," I replied, "And even if it does happen, we both know who will be the best candidate, don't we?"

I winked but my heart was racing. What if I was Reaped? What would happen? Could I win?

One thing was sure. Nobody would volunteer for me…

Bridge Carter (12) D12M

"There is a leakage in the roooofff!

"Boys should be aloooofff!

"I'm so magical that you'll go pooofff!"

I looked at my friends, expecting an applause for my amazing song, but they all just stared blankly at me. Slightly disgusted at their reaction, I decided to ignore it.

"So you think you are tough?!

"Blood you will cough!

"Fighting me will be rough!

"For me beating you will be enough!"

Shelly, completely out of politeness, applauded and smiled at me. Clara and Tristan just stared as if I was mad. This made me angry. Couldn't these people recognise talent when they saw one?

"You all are boring. I'll just stuff your heads with hay."

"Shut up kid," Tristan muttered, getting to his feet, "You're too small to actually beat anyone up."

"And too adorable!" Shelly said, grabbing my cheeks and pulling them in a very painful fashion. I cried out in pain and dug my nails into her hands, drawing a little blood. She shrieked and drew back her hands.

"You monster!" Clara shouted at me, running towards Shelly.

"I am sorry Shelly!" I gasped.

"It's okay," she responded.

"It's not okay," Tristan said and stomped up to me. My brother towered over me easily; he was sixteen after all. Before I could even decide to do anything, his hand struck me on the cheek. I fell on the floor due to the sheer force, my cheek was stinging, and tears were dripping from my eyes.

"First you waste our time with your idiotic songs and now you go on a murderous frenzy! I am tired of you Bridge! You are so annoying!"

That was enough. Jumping to my feet, I ran towards him angrily and pushed him back forcefully. He fell down and I jumped on top of him, punching him repeatedly. I didn't stop until Clara pulled me back and then punched me back and pushed me on the floor.

"Stop it! Stop it please!" Shelly cried and hugged me.

"Why are you siding with this demon?!" Clara shrieked.

"Because she is smart, you foolish woman!" I snapped.

Tristan was back on his feet and he gave me a death glare before walking out. I stared as Clara left too, leaving me behind with Shelly. Before I knew, I was howling like a young child, my arms around Shelly's neck.

"Nobody loves me Shelly! They are always- they are always picking on me!"

"No, no dear," she said kindly, wiping my tears and tilting my chin up so I was looking at her, "It's the Reapings. That's why they are worried."

"They are worried the whole year!" I cried out, my voice very hoarse then. I was tired of the way they treated me. As if I was scum. Tristan was perfect. He got good marks, he was good in sports, he was a good host in the school functions, he was handsome, he was intelligent, he was well-mannered, he was respectful, he was a Prefect! Prefect Tristan! Who would notice little Bridge, the boy of below average intelligence, mediocre scores, wild nature and no skills whatsoever?

Just then the door swung open and my step-dad walked in. Tristan was his son. I wasn't. Our mom was dead. My step-dad, Lignite, looked at Shelly and she walked out of the room. Lignite closed the door and then turned towards me, fury etched on his face. But I wasn't going to go down without a fight.

"What?" I asked.

"You hit Tristan?"

"Yes," I replied, "He hit me-"

"Enough!" he said, "Enough of this! No supper tonight. Got it?"

"Why? Your name is written on the food that I can't have it?" I retorted.

His eyes held such a rage that it almost scared me.

"You're not my son, boy," he said in a low whisper, "You should be grateful that I let you live in this house. But today, after the Reapings, you will leave. I kind of wish you are Reaped. Only your death will give me peace now."

A strange calm descended over me. So… he wanted peace? I smiled lightly at him and he frowned, probably suspecting something. Looking around, I saw my chair. Lifting it up, I threw it at him. Maybe he never predicted I could do that. He fell on his back and I lifted the chair again, and threw it down on him. Stooping low, I dug my nails into his throat, holding my other hand over his mouth. He pushed me off but then I rolled over, got up, and kicked him in the side before bringing the up the steel chair and hitting him on the head. He went still, blood oozing from his head, his eyes staring at nothingness.

"Well, good sir," I whispered, "Rest in peace."

He stared at me stupidly and I put the chair back in its place.

"Wait…"

I turned around. Did I actually…? No, I couldn't. I couldn't! I was a child! A mere child! I couldn't!

"D-dad?" I asked softly.

He did not respond. Obviously. Could I get away with this?

"Shelly."

Shelly had left the room. She knew dad visited me. What if she put two and two together? Should I get rid of-

"Bridge!" I almost yelled at myself.

What was I thinking?! Shelly, I couldn't do that to her! To anyone!

I kind of wish you are Reaped. Only your death will give me peace now.

"If that's what you want, dad," I whispered, tears going down my cheeks, "I-I'll go into the arena. That was your last wish."

It would be better to volunteer than to be caught by the Peacekeepers. Prison life is not for me.

I quickly changed into a blue T-shirt and shorts, combed my black hair, which really complemented my almost black eyes, and put on my blue sneakers. I looked innocent, when I looked at the mirror. How could I…?

But it was not time to ponder on that. It was time to execute my plan of escaping the prison. Volunteering really was the only option I had…

I raced towards the Square, ignoring that idiot Clara as she told me to slow down. The Square was right in front of my house. Trying to mix into the crowd, I stood in the line to get my finger pricked between two very tall people. I was short and I was glad about it right then.

The escort was boring. He was dragging everything unnecessarily. Holding out the girl's name's slip, he drawled out her name.

"Persephone Aster!"

The cameras found a sixteen-year-old girl. Maybe she was Persephone. She was swearing loudly and when a Peacekeeper approached her, she grabbed him and pushed him so hard he landed on his back. Unable to help myself, I laughed aloud.

Looking at her going onto the stage, only one thought ran in my mind. That she would be an interesting District Partner.

Persephone "Perry" Aster (16) D12F

I wanted to shove this man off the stage. He was dragging everything! Why was he so slow?! And he dared to choose my name!

I caught Caspian's eye. He was trying to look impassive but his bleak eyes told me everything. Would he mentor me?

Tearing away my gaze, I looked at Julio fishing for a name. This man was infuriating me now. Why did these people enjoy doing this?!

"Hurry up already!" I cried, "We haven't got all day!"

He gave me a stern look and then chose a slip.

"Drake Luvguard!"

I saw a short, twelve-year-old coming towards the stage excitedly. Was he mad?! He was twelve! He had been Reaped! And he looked as if his wish had come true!

"I volunteer!"

Looking away from the slightly angry and slightly sad face of the weird child, I saw the boy who volunteered. And almost collapsed. Slanted dark eyes, innocent face…

… The volunteer was a twelve-year-old. A child. A small, short child. He looked scared. His legs were trembling. But he volunteered. He was trying to look confident. But he wasn't. He didn't look confident. Did someone force him to do this? He was just a child!

Are you crazy?!" I cried out when he stood next to me. His eyes widened and he shook his head.

"Your name, boy?" Julio asked.

"B-Bridge Carter," he whispered. He looked really scared. I looked into the crowds only to find stunned faces staring back at us.

"District Twelve! Your tributes- Persephone Aster and Bridge Carter!"

We shook hands, and his was trembling very slightly. Pity washed over me. Poor boy.

"Did someone force you to do this, Bridge?" I asked.

"Circumstances did," he replied sadly, looking close to tears. It was getting unbearable for me.

But Bridge had already created history.

This was so fun to write! I love these two. I understand if you find Bridge to be slightly disturbing. His POV might even be weird, because initially he was all good and then, you know. But really, that was intentional. Oh well. Do let me know what you think of these two.

Also, in the last chapter, Daniel did not volunteer because he thought that Victory could learn how to use weapons in training. I know, irrational, right? But that was the case, and he was not spiteful towards his friend. He just had a… different way of thinking.

So thank you all for reading and have a great day!