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ANTics

The Reaping of Webster High

OLIVE

"Attention students! Please report to the auditorium. Sit in the roped off areas that are labeled with your class."

All the students in Geography looked up at the PA system. Roped off areas? I thought. What?

It seemed like other people were thinking the same thing. The teacher looked confused, too.

A boy in the 10th grade stood up first and walked out the classroom, heading for the auditorium. We all followed. I stayed back, waiting for Fletcher and Angus. They gave me confused looks. I gave one back.

We walked silently to the auditorium. The whole school was so quiet; you could hear a pin drop.

Angus, Fletcher, and I reached the auditorium. Well, scratch that. We actually reached the end of the line. We had no idea what was going on inside, or why there was a long line, quickly filling up with students.

I heard the sound of boots running out of the office. I turned around, and saw Chyna heading to the back of the line, chewing on her hair. She never chews on her hair.

"Chyna!" I called out. "Over here!"

Chyna looked around the line to where we were standing. She chewed her hair even more and slowly walked up to me.

"H-h-hey Olive."

"Do you know what's going on?"

Chyna started to examine the floor tiles.

"Mumble…mumble…mumble…"

"What?"

"The Most Beautiful Melody!"

I gasped. Uh-oh. We were in trouble.

"Excuse us, but what's the Most Beautiful Melody?" Angus asked. Fletcher nodded. "Tell us what's going on."

I sighed. Then I told them the whole story – from start to finish.

Fletcher's eyes were wide by the end, and Angus was staring at Chyna.

By that time, we had made it into the auditorium. There was a table there, and a woman was scanning IDs into a computer. I handed my ID to her. So did Angus, Fletcher, and Chyna. When she gave us the OK, we headed to the section that said 'A.N.T.s' and sat down.

FLETCHER

Skidmore walked up to the podium and tapped the microphone.

"I want to thank everyone for coming," she said. "It seems like we have a little…problem."

She told everyone the story form Olive's book. By the end, people were screaming, shouting, and crying. The four of us consoled everyone else. People glared at Chyna, making her feel uncomfortable.

The fairy, Melody, walked up to the podium next.

"I have looked in the Book of Sins, and have decided your punishment." Melody waved her hands in the air and started to write. "The Webster Games!"

People sighed in the relief. That didn't sound so bad.

Angus raised his hands. "What's that?"

Melody chuckled and waved her hands again. "Two people from each of the twelve classes, a boy and a girl, will be reaped from these." She waved her hands and 24 giant glass balls appeared. They were labeled with each of the 12 classes. They each had slips of paper in them.

"They will be prepped and trained, and then they will enter a themed arena, in which they will fight to the death. The last one standing, or alive, will be showered with riches. So will their class."

The noise came back. There was a lot more crying this time.

"People are allowed to volunteer, as long as they're from your class!" she said, hoping to lighten the mood. She did, but just a little bit.

I nudged Chyna, who was sitting beside me. Her eyes were glazed over, and had a faraway look in them.

"Each class will also have a mentor. That person will be the smartest, and have the smallest amount of sins in the book." She picked up a piece of paper and started to read from it.

"Algebra: John Sawyer.

Shakespeare: Walter Grays.

Chemistry: Petunia Orlando.

Biology: Orion Capers.

Music: Ember Queens.

Theatre: Madge Undersee.

Geometry: Katniss Everdeen.

Art: Peeta Mellark.

Photography: Delly Cartwright.

Creative Writing: Cato Hadley.

African American History: Rue Steinberg.

A.N.T: Olive Doyle."

We all high-fived Olive. "Good job," I whispered in her ear. She doesn't have to die.

Melody clapped her hands. "OK! Now for the real fun!" She walked over to the first glass ball and stuck her hand in.

"Algebra: Clove Walters, Jack Sparrow."

Clove's face was set like a rock. Jack was crying. They walked up the stairs to the stage and sat down on the chairs supplied for them.

Melody stuck her hand in the next ones.

"Shakespeare: Glimmer Parton, Gloss Rene."

Both Glimmer and Gloss high-fived. They were the bullies of the school, and had gone to jail several times for hurting people. I shivered. The tributes better watch out for them.

The same went for the next two.

"Chemistry: Holly Fox, Phoenix Earls."

"Biology: Jane Dowel, Hector Sanchez."

I was getting restless, wondering which A. they would call. I turned to see Chyna's face pale.

"Chyna?" I poked her shoulder. She shivered. "Cameron…" she grumbled. Oh, no! I totally forgot that Cameron was in danger too!

Melody finally got to the theatre class.

"Theatre: Lexi Reed, Cameron Parks."

Lexi let out an ear piercing scream. Cameron's face turned to stone. Neither of them moved.

"Lexi? Cameron? No dawdling, now."

They still didn't move. Lexi kept screaming.

"ALL! CHYNA'S! FAULT!"

I think that was when Chyna realized what was going on.

"Cameron! Cameron, no!"

Chyna got up and ran toward the stage. Melody frowned and waved her hands. Fairies in white suits appeared. They forced Lexi and Cameron up, and took them to the stage. Two more put Chyna back in her seat.

Chyna started crying. "It's OK, it's OK. It's not your fault." I pulled her into my chest.

Paisley also got called for the Creative Writing class. Then, it was time for the A. to be chosen.

I crossed my fingers. Please don't pick me, please don't pick me.

Melody reached into the first glass ball. Time went slower.

"Chyna Parks."

I almost choked on my saliva. Olive screamed. Angus was dumbfounded. Chyna accepted it. She got up, walked up to the stage, and sat down in a chair.

Melody smiled and then reached into the second ball.

"Fletcher Quimby."

This time I did choke. Olive was in hysterics. Angus tried to comfort her, but seemed to be crying also.

A fairy in a white suit escorted me to the stage. I sat down next to Chyna and Cameron.

"Let's give it up for our tributes!"

No one clapped.

"Anyway, each of these 24 people will be copied. The copies will be sent as replacements to their homes, and will live the lives of the dead."

I looked at Olive. She held up 3 fingers and spread them widely apart, so that it looked like a W.

The Webster sign.

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