A/N Hello, readers!
Sorry for the EXTREMELY late update. For real. I know, I suck.
Not much else to say, really. Here is District 6! I hope you enjoy it and, as always, reviews are very much appreciated! Make sure to read the end, I will actually say some important stuff! :)
Kara Gage POV
"Kara! Kara, wake up! Kara!"
The familiar loud, high-pitched little male voice penetrates through the fog of sleep surrounding my brain and I groan tiredly, rolling over and folding my pillow around the back of my head and over my ears to block him out.
"Go away, Cooper…" I moan quietly "Trying to sleep…"
Just as I feel myself drifting again the pillow is roughly ripped out of my grasp, triggering an annoyed sigh on my part.
"Cooper, what is it?" I ask, keeping my eyes closed as I speak.
"You know exactly what it is, Kara. Today's reaping day."
I slowly allow my eyes to flutter open, lifting my gaze to the clock on my bedroom wall. 7:30 am. I can't help but roll my eyes at my active little ten-year-old brother.
"Coop, it's only 7:30. The reaping starts at ten."
Now, it's Cooper's turn to roll his eyes.
"I know. But you and Bridget are always so stressed before the reaping, so I thought maybe we could do something fun to get your minds off of it. So, you know, maybe this year you won't yell at me when I tell you breakfast is ready." He replies with a grin, "Besides, Bridget and Emilie are already awake."
I grin sheepishly at the memory. He isn't lying. I remember that morning so clearly, the morning of my second reaping just one year ago. I was stressed and terrified beyond compare, even more stressed than I was the year before at twelve, because this time I had two slips. Some irrational part of me thought that twelve year olds were rigged to never be reaped (District 6 is the only district that has never sent a twelve-year-old into the Games before, male or female. Even the Career districts all sent at least one before they went all, you know, Career.) and so this year was obviously going to be a whole new ball game for me in my stressed-out thirteen-year-old mind. My brother had stepped into my room just as I had finished composing myself to say that breakfast was ready and I just lost it, knowing that we always leave right after breakfast.
This year I know better. Three slips really isn't much. My mother warned us not to take tesserae…it isn't worth it.
"Coop, I wouldn't have yelled at you anyway," I assure him, an amused smile on my face, "This year I'm not as afraid as last year. What are the chances I'll get reaped when there are eighteen-year-olds out there with hundreds of slips?"
I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth. Some of those eighteen year olds may be children of train accident victims who need to get food on the table. Like my dad.
He was in a freak train accident. I will never forget the feeling that rushed through me when my twin sister Bridget and I were pulled out of our class three years ago, only to be told that my father had been in an accident. I had assumed the worst, and broke down into tears until they finally assured me that he was alive but just "severely injured". Bridget had simply stared silently into space as is typical of my quiet, soft-spoken twin. We had gone to pull my brother, only seven at the time, out of his class and then gone straight to the train station to see Dad.
It can be quite scarring, seeing your father with a bloody, severed limb. Trust me. Now my mom is forced to work full-time. We rarely even seem to see her. Emilie was only four at the time, so she isn't as affected.
Cooper clearly remembers too, considering the somewhat stern look he gives me.
"Dabbie Porter's father was in the same accident as Dad. She's eighteen, and I heard she has a hundred and eleven slips in there."
His serious gaze then melts into a grin. He knows I often have a hard time not saying every little thing that comes to mind. It's gotten me into some trouble before.
"Yeah, yeah I'm sorry. You know how I am. Now, where are Bridget and Emilie and what are you all planning to do on this fun, fun morning?" I ask, actually feeling somewhat pumped for this pre-reaping tradition which is about to form.
"Board game battle. Whoever wins the most doesn't do any laundry, and the rest of us get to clean their room for the week?"
Typical Cooper. It's on.
"I'm totally up for that!"
Hunter Ford POV
I am awakened by a humming sound coming from the sky. Its volume increases, louder and louder until it seems to be coming from right above my head. That's when I recognize it. The sound of a hovercraft.
A Capitol hovercraft. A Capitol hovercraft that has come – that only ever comes – for one reason.
I can't even bring myself to think about it.
I jump from bed, scurrying over to the window to watch as the hovercraft lands in the square, which can barely be seen from the tiny window of my tiny room in our tiny house.
Yeah. We're not very rich. Although I can't really complain because I come from a very loving family compared to others who are in our position.
The hovercraft stops in mid-air, floating above the square for several seconds before slowly lowering itself onto the ground. I watch the still machine in awe, wondering how human beings could have possibly created such a thing.
That's when they finally appear. The Capitol people, the most colorful and decorated people I have ever seen.
First one out is the escort, who I recognize vaguely from past reapings, reapings I was never fully apart of. She's tiny, the same height if not even smaller than the youngest tributes usually, the thirteen year olds. Both our tributes last year were thirteen.
Both died in the bloodbath.
I shake the gory, bloody memories out of my mind and focus my attention back on the hovercraft, where more people are coming out. Probably the people in charge of check-in, considering all the booth material they're carrying.
I watch as the mayor heads over to the escort, shaking her hand and walking with her to the stage with one hand positioned friendlily in the small of her back. The check-in people are setting up their booths several meters away as the hovercraft is driven away by the pilot, towards the back of the Justice Building where no one will see it.
But I'll still know it's there. I've always known it was there, ever since I was eight years old and started this reaping-morning ritual of mine. I'd simply glanced out the window, hoping to get an idea of the time due to the lack of a clock in my bedroom, and got distracted by the sight. I was fascinated – so this is where all the Capitol people come from. That's how they set up the stage and booths. And so, I decided to watch every year.
Maybe I shouldn't have this year, considering the way the sight of those thousand slips of paper being poured into the boy's bowl is making me feel. Six of those slips have my name on them – of course I was expected to take tesserae. We live in the dirtiest, grimiest, poorest section of the district. That being myself, my parents, my little brother and big sister. Six slips. And twenty-one for my sister, Chassie, in the female bowl right beside the male one, already filled to the brim with female names of girls all over District 6.
I force myself to turn away from the window when I realize how much faster my heartbeat and breathing have gotten.
Chill out. You're twelve. District 6 never sends twelve year olds into the Games, remember?
There's a little voice in my head, however, that doesn't let that thought win. A voice that whispers, "But, there's always a chance".
I force it down, deep into the farthest recesses of my mind, where it won't bother me again. That is, until the sight of those reaping bowls, up close and personal, brings it back to the surface.
I'm way too thoughtful for my own good. Overthinking is a problem of mine.
I turn towards my closet, which is basically just a hole in my wall since there is no door, and begin to skim through my very, very limited selection of clothes. Might as well get ready early.
Anything to get my mind off of those bowls, filled to the brim with names.
Kara Gage POV
"Yes! I win, suckers!"
I roll my eyes. Of course Cooper won the board game battle. We played all his favorite games! I sigh heavily, sliding an orange peel over to his side of the table. We always use orange peels as tokens to count up how many games each person won. Right now, Cooper's got seven. Bridget and I each have three and poor Emilie doesn't even have one.
"We always play the games you like! Of course you won!" I blurt out unthinkingly.
Cooper simply shakes his head with his usual smug smirk.
"Jealousy. It's a terrible thing."
He barely gets the sentence out before he's forced to duck, narrowly avoiding the orange peel I've sent sailing through the air in his direction. It hits Emilie, who is sitting behind him, making her giggle and plop the thing right on Cooper's head where it gets tangled into his blond hair. He frantically whips his hair back and forth to remove it, making Emilie and I both burst out laughing. Even Bridget lets out a soft little giggle, never one to laugh the loudest.
"Alright, so it's clear that I am the winner of this competition," Cooper says proudly, "therefore, no laundry for me this week! And after the reaping is over, one of you better get cracking on my room."
"Cooper, why are you bossing your sisters around? Just because your mother isn't here doesn't mean you're the boss."
We all whip our heads around to see our father standing in the doorway of the kitchen, trying very hard to be stern. I can see his tiny smile he is desperately trying to hide, grey eyes sparkling with amusement.
"Dad, I won the board game challenge. It was a bet! Right, guys?" Cooper turns to Bridget, Emilie and I for confirmation.
"Yeah, that was the bet," I agree.
"Yeah, but I think Bridget or Kara should have won," Emilie says, gazing up at me with admiring blue eyes.
Bridget simply nods her agreement.
Dad lets out a sigh.
"Alright, fine. But you kids need to get ready for the reaping now, it's almost nine."
Bridget and I both get up, both of our nerves clearly starting to kick in, and trudge over to the room we share while Emilie and Cooper help Dad clean the table.
"What are you planning to wear today, Bridge?"
She shrugs, skimming through the racks in search of a nice enough outfit.
"Maybe this?" she asks, pulling out a simple light blue dress.
"Love it! Seriously, it'll look amazing on you!"
She nods her head with the tiniest of smiles, and moves over to her bed to put the dress on while I take her place by the closet.
I push aside the various dresses, skirts and blouses in search of something to wear and constantly find my eyes shifting to a simple cream colored dress. I pull it out and instantly love it. I'm surprised I never wore it to any past reapings. I hurriedly put it on and stare at my reflection in the mirror. Bridget comes to stand next to me, and is surprisingly the first to speak.
"We look…we.."
"We look hot!" I can't help but blurt out.
Bridget looks at me with wide eyes. As much as I tend to blurt things out often, never have I ever said something that outspoken on reaping day, especially not before the names are picked. I crack a smile at her expression, slowly causing her to do the same and before we know it we've both burst into a fit of typical fourteen-year-old-girl giggles.
It takes us about a minute to catch our breaths, and I can feel my nervousness slowly melt away along with the giggles.
"Bridge, what are we so worried about?" I ask, my face still spread into a wide grin.
Bridget shrugs, an identical smile lighting up her face, "I don't know, Kara. I don't know."
"We really don't have that many slips. We'll be fine! There's no way we can't be." I assure.
I turn to look at our dresser, at the box full of differently colored ribbons laying tangled and knotted into each other, and an idea begins to form in my mind. I stare into our reflection again, at our blue and white dresses that are so similar to each other, and our identical platinum blond hair and pale blue eyes.
"Hey, Bridget. Here, put this in your hair." I suggest, pulling out a white ribbon that is only slightly paler than the cream color of my dress.
She takes it obediently, neatly tying up her hair. I pull out an icy blue ribbon, nearly the same color as Bridget's dress, and do the same. My twin smiles slightly at the sight.
"We're opposites." She says, her voice barely a whisper.
"Yup," I affirm, "I've got your blue, and you've got my cream. That way during the reaping, even though we'll be standing right next to each other but can't talk, we'll have that little piece of each other. Plus it shows everyone else that we're a package deal and stick together."
Bridget stares at me for a second, most probably marveling in the fact that I just went from calling us hot to uttering what was probably the deepest thought process I've ever had in the matter of five minutes.
"I think that sounds beautiful." She finally says.
Hunter Ford POV
I stare into the mirror at my reflection without much emotion. I'm wearing an old brown shirt and scuffed up jeans. Literally the first shirt and pants I could grab. I always thought dressing up for the Games was sort of pointless. I style my hair the way I always do – tousled up in different directions. My fourteen-year-old sister Chassie did that for me once last year. I hated it, but then her pretty best friend Kara showed up at our house and told me I looked "totally hot in an 11-year-old-boy sort of way". I've been doing my hair this way ever since (despite the fact that she apologized at least sixty-five times to Chassie for "saying something so awkward"). I spend about ten minutes on my hair – hey, it has to be PERFECT – before heading downstairs to greet the rest of my family.
The first person I see is my father, leaning tiredly over a sheet of paper which I assume is another job application. There are at least ten others, all carelessly fanned out over his half of the table.
My father lost his job last year due to the enormous wave of newer, younger employees applying for the job. He and most of the other men in his age group were laid off, leaving all of their families starving – including mine. Sometimes it still surprises me for a second when I look in the mirror at my slightly exposed ribs before I finally remember why they're like that. Anyway, to keep a long story short, my mother is now forced to support our entire family. She's often extremely stressed out and snaps at my siblings and I a lot more than she used to, but that's understandable. I never snap back at her when she does this – in fact, I usually give her a hug, which makes her all emotional.
I walk over to where my father is seated, reading over the job application as he continues to fill it out. Train Reparation Agent. Basically, my dad wants to fix trains since he can no longer actually operate them. I find myself picturing my father repairing some train that got busted, a train he once was in charge of operating , and then solemnly watching one of those younger eighteen-year-olds who took his place drive it off. The image saddens me, and I find myself opening my mouth to speak for no purpose other than to get it out of my head.
I'd try to think of something else, but there's a good chance that my mind would find itself back in those reaping bowls in the square. Wouldn't want that, would we?
"Any luck?" I ask my father.
He turns to me with those tired eyes of his and shrugs, the tiniest of smiles on his face.
"I don't know, Hunter. I haven't handed in the application yet."
I can feel myself blushing, realizing how stupid the question was, before letting out a soft chuckle.
"Right. I knew that."
We grin at each other for a second before I go over to my mother, who's hurriedly preparing breakfast.
"Morning, mom." I greet.
"Morning, Hunter. Do me a favor, honey, please go get Chass and Byke and make sure they're ready." She says, barely glancing at me as she pulls five plates out of a cupboard.
"Sure thing."
I make my way upstairs to my sister's room, where she's carefully applying some sort of makeup to her eyes. Borrowed, surely. There's no way we can afford makeup anymore.
"Chass, you almost ready? Mom's about to put breakfast on the table."
She looks up from her mirror and grins at me.
"Yeah, almost done, Hunter. I just needed to put a little mascara on cause you know how short and unimpressive my lashes are, and I need them to be perf because Sage is gonna be at the reaping today and he's sooo good-looking while I'm soooo-"
"Okay, okay, I got it Chassie, I'll tell mom five minutes." I cut her off, laughing a little at her rambling.
I've been dealing with her talkativeness for years now and it never fails to amuse me.
She nods with a grin before turning back to the mirror, while I head over to ten-year-old Byke's bedroom to pass Mom's message for the second time. I end up running into him just as he's leaving his room, and he gives me a small smile before going downstairs to help Mom with the food. Let's just say when it comes to talking, Chassie and Byke are complete opposite extremes.
I join the rest of the family for breakfast, which is relatively quiet apart from my parents talking about work and finances and other things Byke and I don't fully understand, and finally we need to leave.
Chassie is still upstairs.
"Chassie! Come on, we need to go!" my mother yells towards the stairs.
She replies after a shirtshort period of silence, her voice muffled by distance.
"Sorry mom, I need to put my mascara on because Sage is gonna be there and.."
Kara Gage POV
The walk to the square is painfully long. Living on the outskirts isn't fun on reaping morning (or any time really), especially when you need to get to the square. We always have to leave a good twenty minutes or so before the arrival time – even more so on reaping day, when Bridget and I need to get signed in.
Although the walk is long, it's never dull. Especially with Cooper.
"So, guys, what kind of cake are we going to buy after this is over?"
I can't help but roll my eyes. "Cooper, we won't be buying any cake after this is over. We're poor and starving, remember?"
My father looks at me sternly. "Now, Kara…"
"I know, I'm sorry! You know I never think before I speak! Besides, I didn't mean it anyway…"
"Gosh, Kara! All you ever do is lie!" Cooper scoffs mockingly.
"Kara never lies!" Emilie says in my defense, "You're the one who lies, Cooper!"
Cooper bursts out laughing at this, "When did I lie, Em?"
"That time you almost beat up that seventh grader and told everyone he started it cause he was bigger than you!"
This time I'm the one to burst out laughing. I remember that day all too well, especially the look on the kids face when he realized that this puny fifth grader had just gotten him detention.
"He made fun of my hair!" Cooper cries defensively.
My father is smirking, clearly more amused about the situation than upset. Bridget speaks up for the first time before he can make a joke, though.
"We're here."
She's right. We've arrived at the square, already jam-packed with town kids and others who are fortunate enough to live closer to the square. I watch them all being checked in and can feel the nerves I had tried so hard to suppress come rushing back, the color draining from my face. But then I look over at Bridget with her white ribbon in her hair and instantly relax.
We're gonna be fine. Cooper and Emilie can't be reaped, and Bridget and I WON'T be reaped. Then we can go steal a cake if Coop wants.
The mental Image of Cooper being chased out of the local bakery, a huge and no doubt expensive chocolate cake in his hands, puts a smile on my face and pretty soon the nerves have all but disappeared. Not to be felt again until next year. And the year after. And the year after that. Oh God. I can't wait to be eighteen…
My thoughts are interrupted by a familiar voice.
"Kara! Kara, over here! Bridget!"
I whip around in the direction of the voice to see my best friend Chassie with her little brother, waving frantically to get my attention at the back of the check-in line.
After a quick hug and "see you later" to my dad and siblings, Bridget and I rush to the line to join Chassie and Hunter Ford.
"Hey guys! Oh my god, I was starting to get scared that you wouldn't come but then I remembered that that's illegal and then I worried that the peacekeepers would find you and-"
"Hey, Chass." I interrupt with a giggle before hugging her.
Bridget just waves politely with a soft, whispered greeting.
I grin down at Hunter, who I noticed has done his hair the same way as last year after I complimented it.
"Still using that great hairstyle, are we? Now you look hot in a twelve-year-old-boy kind of way. They grow up so fast, don't they, Chass?"
"Too fast." She agrees, "Like, faster than a unicorn."
Hunter and I just laugh. Neither of us will ever understand Chassie's obsession with unicorns.
"Next!"
A Capitol attendant ruins the fun then, beckoning Chassie to his booth to be checked in. Hunter goes next, followed by Bridget. My check-in goes okay, the attendant simply giving me a soft smile before and after pricking me.
Bridget and I start to head over to our section before fully realizing that Hunter is twelve. Meaning he actually has a section too this year.
Chassie turns around to face her brother, putting her hands on his thin, bony shoulders that are just like the rest of his body. They're just as poor as us. Actually, were in identical situations, only difference being that their dad still has all his limbs. Kinda makes me wish the train company had decided to fire people before my dad's accident. Then at least he could have looked for a job, like Chassie's dad Martin is doing, instead of being stuck without one for the rest of his life.
"Listen, Hunter. You need to go over there with all the other twelve-year-olds. You won't be picked, but you still have to wait-"
Hunter cleverly cuts her off before she can start rambling, "I know, Chass. I've been to enough reapings. I'll see you later?"
Chassie smiles, "Yup, later, lil bro! Can't wait to party!"
Hunter laughs and they hug before he finally heads off to his section, jumping in shock as a boy with flippy blond hair loudly greets him with a high five.
Chassie laughs, "Oh, Aran. He just can't get enough of scaring Hunter."
She chuckles again just as I notice the tiny escort stepping onto the stage, lowering the microphone to her level so she can properly speak into it.
"Guys, we need to go! Shorty's gonna start talking soon!"
We rush over to our section, giggling and desperately hoping no one heard what I said, reaching it just as her high-pitched voice echoes through the stage with an enthusiastic greeting.
"Hey, D-6! How's about we get this reaping over with so I can party with the lucky winners later?"
"Lucky winners?!" I blurt out.
Only my section seems to have heard me, at least thirty different shushes filling the air to shut me up. I mutter an apology in embarrassment before turning my attention back to the little escort on stage.
Chassie just giggles and whispers one word in my ear, "Loser."
"Alrighty! Let's start with the girls just cause!"
I can feel my face warming up, my heart rate and breathing accelerating until it feels like my entire body will just spontaneously combust. I'm almost ready to bolt out of the square when I jump at the sensation of something touching my hand. I look up. Bridget. Bridget grabbed my hand, with her blue dress and white ribbon, everything about her contrasting heavily with me. Including the cool and collected look on her face that basically just screams It's okay. We'll be fine.
I stare at her for a while until I finally start to believe her. I smile – just barely – before turning back towards the stage, keeping Bridget's hand firmly intertwined with my own. Shorty has a slip in her hand.
A slip that, hopefully, doesn't have my name on it. Or Bridget's. Or Chassie's.
"Well. Our lovely lady of the day is…"
Not me, not Bridget, not Chassie…
"Kara Gage!"
The first thing that registers is the sudden emptiness in my hand – Bridget must have dropped it in shock. The second is a soft cry coming from right beside me. Chassie, all red-faced and teary eyed, who's staring at me with the most heartbroken, agonized gaze I've ever seen her wear. The third thing that registers is the name. Kara Gage.
Me.
I clench my fists, urging myself to fight the tears pooling in my eyes.
"Kara Gage, come on up, hon. Don't be shy!"
My fellow fourteen-year-olds make a path for me and look at me expectantly, pity written all over each and every one of their faces. I make my way through their path, step after step until I'm heading straight for the stage.
That's when I lose my battle against the tears.
My face contorts in anguish, the tears pouring from my eyes like tiny waterfalls. A single, heaving sob escapes me and I gulp in an attempt to swallow back any others. I hear more sobs coming from behind me, no doubt Chassie and Bridget.
It feels like an eternity before I finally reach the stage. The escort beams up at me in delight.
"Ooh, she's gorgeous isn't she! A blond beauty, this one, and those eyes! So jealous! You've got a model as your female, D-6!"
I try to smile at the crowd, but it doesn't feel right. I'm sure the smile looks fake, dead, completely untrue. Suddenly, a bloodcurdling scream fills the air, from someone in the crowd. I look in the general direction of it to see Bridget curled up on the ground, kids my age crowded all around her, Chassie knelt beside her sobbing.
Oh, no. Not again.
We discovered about 5 years ago that Bridget often feels my pain. We aren't sure why that is, and why I can't do it too, but it's undeniably true. It happened for the first time when I fell down the stairs at the age of 9 and Bridget was crying just as hard as I was, and clutching the same knee and elbow in pain. It happened again when we were 11 and I slipped on ice, bumping my head. We both suffered the same degree of concussion, according to the local medic. It happened again when we were 12, this time a case of emotional pain when I almost had a panic attack during an oral presentation.
Apparently, it's happening again. Except this time, she feels double the pain. Mine and hers.
I could do nothing but watch as the peacekeepers push through the crowd, lifting Bridget from the crowd and carrying her away to God knows where. And watching her, I notice something.
Her ribbon has fallen out of her hair.
Hunter Ford POV
I have never seen so much chaos at a reaping in all my twelve years of life. Even though it only lasted about five minutes. I watch as a shrieking, sobbing Bridget Gage is carried off by the peacekeepers, my sister still knelt down on the ground in tears.
I cannot believe Kara Gage has been reaped. The girl who complimented my hair just last year. The girl who came over almost every weekend and who's laughter could be heard from all the way across the house and who could never seem to think before she speaks in the most innocent way.
She doesn't deserve this. None of us do.
On stage, the escort is practically bursting with excitement.
"Such drama! How exciting! But this reaping ain't over yet, D-6! It's time to choose our Y-chromosome tribute!"
She then skips on over to the male ball, reaching up and plucking a slip from it swiftly and coolly.
"Well, okay then! Our handsome gentleman of the day is…"
The square then falls completely silent, except for some soft sniffling that is most probably coming from Chassie and Kara's family, as well as Bridget still wailing somewhere in the background. I'm holding my breath, almost afraid that if I make any sort of sound the name on that paper will suddenly be mine.
"Hunter Ford!"
I can't move. I can barely breath. Aran gasps beside me, face white as a sheet.
She called my name. I have to go up.
I feel my motor ability returning, my legs slowly moving in unison to carry me to that stage. I feel nothing. I hear nothing. All my senses have turned off except my sight, and all I see is that stage. Calling me, beckoning me forward towards my inevitable death.
No. Not inevitable. I will get myself out of there. I have to. There's no other option.
But, Kara…
I look up at her teary, terrified eyes and suddenly I could hear again. I hear my sister uncontrollably sobbing, along with my brother and most probably my parents as well. I hear Bridget, who's starting to act up again due to her sister's reaction to her district partner. Me.
I turn away from her, lowering my gaze to the floor. It just hurts too much to look at her right now.
"Wow, a twelve-year-old! Your very first, D-6! And who knows, maybe he'll also be the first twelve-year-old victor?" she inquires, winking sassily at the crowd.
No one reacts. This is probably the worst, most painful reaping this district has ever had.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Shake hands, beautiful children!"
I look up at Kara, shaking her hand firmly. We lock eyes, and I swear in this moment, we've become allies. A non-verbal promise to keep each other safe until the very end. Who knows? Maybe we can pull a Katniss and Peeta thing, minus the whole rebellion issue of course. Maybe.
Kara pulls away first, her face crumpling up again with tears. She turns and runs off the stage before the peacekeepers can get to her, and I just stare after her as the peacekeepers shove me along to my tribute room.
It is in this room that I begin to plan my game strategy. I need to survive this. I just have to.
Kara Gage POV
I sit in an unnecessarily luxurious chair in the tribute room, completely incapable of holding back my sobs. They echo almost embarrassingly through the room, and I'm sure Hunter can hear them from his own room right beside mine.
Hunter.
How am I going to be able to kill my best friend's little brother? Sure we can team up, but eventually one of us won't be able to survive even if we're the only two left. We'd have to separate…and Hunter's only 12 and…
Chassie would never forgive me.
I mean, sure, she's one of the most easy-going people on the planet. But family comes first. It's almost like an unspoken rule in District 6; blood before friendship. Family over anyone else. For her, the one who must come home is Hunter. I'm only second choice.
My thoughts are interrupted by a knock on the door. I turn in that general direction, choking out a soft "Come in."
The door slowly creaks open to reveal Bridget, who looks twice as horrible as I feel. My identical twin's face is blotchy red from crying, her eyes equally red and swollen from having shed too many tears. I am almost certain that I am a mirror image of her. Except for one thing. My ribbon is in my hair, while hers is now tied around her wrist.
"How'd you get the ribbon back?" I whisper, my voice raspy and weak from the recent sobs.
She stares at me for a second, puffy eyes narrow with confusion. Almost as if she expected me to say something else.
"Chassie gave it to me. She picked it up after the Peacekeepers took me away." She says calmly.
Her voice sounds much better than mine, contrasting heavily with her tired, broken-hearted exterior. We stay silent for a moment, neither of us knowing what to say. Eventually, she breaks the silence.
"Well…the odds certainly weren't in any of our favor today."
That line right there, is what breaks me all over again. It makes me think of my mother with her full-time job that makes her so tired all the time, and my father with his stump of an arm that will never grow back. I think of Cooper, who surely regrets not letting me win the board game this morning, of Emilie who knows nothing except that she most probably won't ever see me again, and of Bridget who might have to feel every bit of my likely-to-be-painful death. And finally, Chassie, who is now forced to watch her brother and best friend compete in a fight to the death together. Its too much for me to handle, and I soon find myself throwing my arms around Bridget without even realizing what I'm doing. We cry together for a good five minutes until I can hear her gasping, overwhelmed by the doubled amount of emotion coming at her. I try desperately to keep my emotions in check for her sake just as the rest of the family walks in with their tear-streaked faces.
"We just came from Hunter's room. We figured you and Bridget would want to be alone." My mother says.
She looks exhausted, having most certainly just come from work. The dark bags under her eyes say that much. Suddenly, Emilie materializes from behind her, wrapping herself around my waist and soaking my dress with her tears. But apparently, she's crying for a whole other reason than everyone else.
"Will you be back soon? I'm gonna miss you, Kara!"
My heart sinks. I have absolutely no idea how to handle this. I hear Bridget gasp a little, and immediately calm myself down. The words escape without warning, as they so often do with me:
"Yes. I'll be back before you know it, Em."
I smile falsely down at her, already feeling the regret that comes so often after lying to someone you love. Emilie then leaves me to go hug Bridget instead and Cooper comes forward.
"Guess you're off the hook with cleaning my room." He says.
I try really hard to laugh at his joke. I really do. But I just can't. And neither can he, apparently; his voice breaks with every second word and his eyes are filled with tears. He attempts to smile and fails, a single tear running down one cheek. He hugs me for a long time before pulling away, sniffling and wiping at the tears that keep on coming. He doesn't say anything else. He doesn't have to.
Finally, it's my father's turn. His eyes are relatively dry compared to everyone else's and he hugs me with a smile on his face.
"Make us proud, Kara. You know we love you, no matter what. Keep Hunter safe, but try to come back to us. Even if it takes losing a limb." He gestures to his stump-arm, making me giggle softly.
"I'll try. I promise."
My voice is filled with determination. I will fight till the end.
The Peacekeepers come for my family, then, dragging them out of the room as they shout final good-byes and I-love-you's in my direction. The door slams closed, only to be opened again by a hysterical, for once completely speechless Chassie.
I sigh, accepting the hug she offers me wholeheartedly. I hug her back, staring over her shoulder at a random point on the wall. Trying to remain detached, trying not to think of her frail little twelve-year-old brother sitting in the room right beside mine. I need to protect him.
But I need to help my family more.
I'm sorry Chassie, I think to myself as we slowly pull away, trying desperately to smile at each other through our tears.
But I need to get home to my family. They need me.
Blood before friendship.
Hunter Ford POV
I'm staring at the wall, unfeeling. For once, not even thinking. Just staring. Listening. Listening to Kara as the sound of her sobbing penetrates into my room, only slightly muffled by the wall between us. I can't deal with it. Any of it.
What did we do to deserve this? Why us?
Before I could even think of an answer to that question, the door opens. I brace myself, expecting to see my family in hysterics.
It isn't them. It's the Gage family, all of them minus Bridget, who is either still recovering from her "attack" with the Peacekeepers or in Kara's room. Probably the latter.
Why are they here?
Astrid, the mother, speaks first, almost as if she read my mind.
"We thought Bridget and Kara would want to be alone for a little bit, and besides you Fords are like family to us."
I nod, knowing how close our families are. Family comes before anyone else.
But I am not related to these people by blood.
Blood before friendship. I can't blame them one bit for wanting Kara home over me, just like Chassie wants me home over her best friend. Blood before friendship.
"Try your best, Hunter. We'll be rooting for you too, you know." Autto, the father, says.
Try your best, but don't win. Unless Kara dies before you, that is.
I shudder at the thought.
I smile up at him, trying my hardest to mask the dark thoughts that are clouding my mind.
Cooper nods in agreement, with a sad smile in my direction. Being only a year younger than me, we often hang out together whenever our families get together, although we aren't nearly as close as Chassie is with the twins, especially Kara.
They leave then, after some short hugs and words of encouragement are exchanged. As much as I love them, I am happy to see them leave. The awkwardness in the room was just too painful.
That's when my family comes in.
Byke immediately wraps his arms around my neck in comfort. He almost never speaks, but he is probably the most comforting person around when you need it. I hug him back, and he leans in slightly closer, resting his head on my shoulder.
Chassie is a complete and utter mess. She stumbles into the room with her dress stained with dirt and wrinkled, face blotchy and red from the tears which continue to flow from her bloodshot eyes. She stops a few feet in front of me, and immediately chokes up with sobs. She throws her arms around me – and inevitably Byke as well – and I rub her back, half-heartedly trying to offer comfort.
It's difficult to comfort someone else at a time when you can barely comfort yourself.
Eventually she pulls away, still sobbing, and leaves the room without another word. As talkative as she normally is, she tends to become increasingly mute depending on the amount of pain she's in. I don't blame her for leaving the room after a long wordless hug. Probably going to do the same with Kara and then run home.
My mother and father come forward, both looking exhausted and grief-stricken.
"Come home to us, Hunter. Please." My mother begs, the black circles under her eyes immediately catching my attention.
She'll have to work even harder to support the family now with one kid gone and the other tangled in grief.
"I will, mom. I promise."
My father smiles slightly.
"Stick with Kara for as long as you possibly can. You should be fine, just stick together!"
I nod. Kara and I will be allies. We decided that mutually the second we realized we'd be in the Games together.
They both hug me tightly, Byke finally releasing me with a final squeeze, and they leave the room just as the peacekeepers come in to summon them.
I lower my gaze once the door is shut, trying very hard not to think about the days to come. I stare down at my hands, one of which has a ring resting on one finger. A big blue ring, my grandfather's. I haven't taken it off since the day he passed away when I was seven. Guess I've found my token.
I can hear the peacekeepers now, and they open my door with Kara in tow. We lock eyes once again, and she nods, taking my hand in hers and squeezing it tightly in her grasp.
We're a team now. And, together, we will make sure that this year District 6 comes out victorious.
A/N: Well, that's all! Hope you liked it. But before I go there's some things I want to say.
First, I am EXTREMELY SORRY for the late update. I was insanely busy and I promise I'll try really hard to make sure that I never go this long without updating again. Almost three months, gosh.
Second, I feel like it's always the same people reviewing this story, *cough grimbutnotalways and Firebird128 cough*. So, I'll be providing some incentive to review. The more you review, the more likely your tribute is to do well in the story. Yes, I'm picking my winner at random, but the rest of the order will be mostly based off of the forms you all submitted along with the review count. So, please just review. I'll also be more open to suggestions from those who review more often, so it benefits you even if you don't have a tribute! I'd offer sponsor points but I feel like I'll lose track of who has what so yeah xD Thank you to those who have reviewed, though, even if it was only once. I appreciate each and every one of them!
So, anyway, hope you liked this and I will definitely try to have the next chappie up in less than three months. Or even less than one, for that matter.
Please review, and thanks for sticking with me!
Candy ~ (thanks for the nickname, Firebird128! Haha.)