A/N Hey everyone!
Here is district 8, hope you all enjoy it!
Tech Bassyn POV
"And so, the Dark Days came to a close, the Capitol reigning victorious. The Treaty of Treason was developed soon after, which brought the Hunger Games into effect. Ironically, the very event that begins today."
The teacher stops reading from the textbook, her voice wavering at that final line. We all know she has a daughter. A daughter who turned twelve just a month ago; she's only a year below me at school.
School. That's where I am right now, sitting at a dirty wooden desk that's given me countless splinters just this month. Sitting in my chair that wobbles with every movement no matter how slight, and the windows that are constantly fogging with smoke from the textile factories outside. Yup, that's district 8, the air foggy and smokey and hard to breathe in. The hacking coughs of the elderly can be heard from a mile away. But its home. It's where I grew up, and where I'll always live.
I sigh as the teacher continues to drone on about the Hunger Games, a lesson that's covered at least three times a year – and that's not an exaggeration. I don't even know why we have to have school on reaping day. We're the only district that does. Everyone else gets time to freak out or distract themselves in private. Well, at least it's only half a day.
Brrrrrrring!
The bell rings, making me jump a meter out of my seat. Dismissed at last. I flee from the room, making my way through the crowd easily. Now, if I could just find my friends…
I gasp as a hand is placed on my shoulder, whirling around so fast I nearly give myself a whiplash.
It is one of my best friends, Weijl, grinning from ear to ear. A sly one, just like I am.
"God, Weijl, you scared the shit out of me!"
He laughs, "Well, that's what you get for popping out from behind my locker door last week and nearly giving me a heart attack!"
"That locker is falling apart, I still don't know how you didn't see me through all the holes and cracks in the wood."
It's true. Most lockers are so mangled, it's pointless to even have a lock; anyone could just steal things right through the door.
Weijll rolls his eyes with no reply.
"Come on, let's go find the others."
We walk down the hall towards our lockers, where the rest of the guys are probably waiting.
"So," Weijl asks, "What did your teacher talk about today?"
"Same old, same old. Dark Days, Treaty of Treason and all that fun stuff. She told us we all have to ask our parents about their most interesting reaping experience and write it down on paper with their signature to bring to class next week."
Weijl's eyes widen in shock.
"Dude, most parents take that stuff horribly! Make up a story and forge the signature or something, that's what everyone else will do."
"Are you crazy? I can't trick a teacher like that!"
"Ugh, you're such a goody two shoes for someone who loves sneaking up on people and being so sly."
I decide to change the subject. I've never been able to help my goody two shoes behavior.
"Whatever. What did your teacher talk about?"
Weijl rolls his eyes, catching my not-so-subtle change in subject, but doesn't push it further.
"We actually spoke about the twenty-first century today. Did you know that their hovercrafts back then had actual wings? I think they called them airplays or something."
"Wow, that sounds awesome!"
The lockers are in sight now, the moldy wooden things all lined up along the wall, crowded with eighth-graders hurriedly packing their stuff to rush home and get ready.
Layne is the first to come rushing over.
"Guys! Guys, oh my gosh, I just have the most brilliant prank to pull on the escort!"
Yeah, Layne is the prankster of the group. He actually goes all out, rather than being subtle and sneaky like Weijl and I.
I shake my head, baffled by Layne's statement.
"Layne, we can't prank the escort! Do you know what kind of trouble we could get in?!"
I can feel the fear rising just at the thought. Trouble at school is bad enough, trouble at home is worse, but trouble with the Capitol? I feel myself visibly blanching at the images coursing through my head.
Apparently, it doesn't scare Layne very much.
"But-"
"He's right, Layne," Weijl steps in, "Normally I'd tell you to ignore Tech, but this time he's right. It's too dangerous."
Layne steps back slightly, looking hurt. His shoulders slump sadly.
"You guys are so boring!" he whines, "Why can't we do something fun on reaping day?"
Weijl sighs in exasperation.
"We can prank the mayor after the Capitol people are gone, alright? He's harmless. Alright?"
Layne nods enthusiastically, his eyes lighting up at the idea.
I roll my eyes with a chuckle in his direction as I head on to my locker, pulling out the key that opens it from my pocket. My locker is right next to Liaal's, another boy who is part of my circle of friends.
A boy who is looking pale, shaky and almost faint at the moment. It doesn't take much knowledge to know why. Reaping Day. Liaal has always been the queasiest out of all of us, the scaredy cat (I come into a close second in that regard, but shh! No one else realizes it because I keep my fear to myself). I put a comforting hand on his shoulder, and he jumps startled, not having realized I was there amongst his thoughts.
"Don't worry, Liaal. You're the least likely to get picked out of all of us, right? There's no way you're getting picked for those Games."
It's the truth, and he knows it. He immediately calms down, wiping away the tears that were threatening to spill. Liaal also happens to be the wealthiest one in our group, the only one who comes from the town area of District 8. He hasn't taken any tesserae. Layne is fairly middle-class; his parents and eighteen year old brother work non-stop in the textile factories which gives them enough money to get by without much luxury. Not quite town, but not quite slum.
I suddenly find myself falling, shoved over by someone. I wince as my back slams against my locker, the lock jammed right between my shoulder blades. I look up at my attacker, ready for some taunting words uttered by some 11th grader or something.
But all I see is my friend Haune, her face blank with shock.
"Oh my gosh, Tech, I am so sorry! It was an accident, I swear! I didn't mean to push you that hard."
She giggles with embarrassment as she reaches over to help me up, and I grin sheepishly up at her (yes, she's taller than me. Just wait till I hit my growth spurt.)
"No worries. I was just helping Liaal over here get over his Reaping Day sickness."
Haune looks over at Liaal, who's hardly paying attention, and pats his shoulder supportively. He doesn't react, lost in his own mind again.
"So, are you nervous for the reaping? I know I am. My sister is in there so many times. She didn't let me take any tesserae again, like last year."
Haune's sister is very protective, although they're only two years apart.
"I wouldn't worry too much," I assure her, "there are people with, like, 8 siblings who have to take tesserae. She only takes some for you and your mom."
Haune nods grimly. Her father passed away three years ago, just on time for Haune's sister to not be forced into taking tesserae for him.
Yeah, basically Weijl and I are the only ones with tesserae. But I have the most, since Weijl is an only child and only needs to take for himself and his father (his mother died when he was two). I have three people to buy for.
We were always poor. So poor, in fact, that my mother killed herself when I was 4. She couldn't handle the poverty, the struggle any longer. She had been living with it since the day she was born. At least that's what my older sister, Electra, told me. She was ten at the time, and took care of Spark and I ever since.
Needless to say, I was the one who comforted everyone last year. Using my shitty situation as reassurance. Looks like I'm doing it this year too.
We walk out of the school together, talking about anything and everything; school, friends, family, life.
Anything but the reaping.
Makenna Flax POV
Blond locks curled to perfection. Pale, violet blue eyes that seem to be thousands of feet deep, filled with intrigue and mystery. A thin, beautiful body that even world-class models struggle to achieve. The perfect height, even – 5'7. That is what the girl standing in front of me looks like. I reach out to touch her, to feel her smooth skin and the fabric of her silk pajamas.
Only to have my fingertips bump softly against cold, hard glass.
I smile, and the perfect girl before me smiles back.
In case you haven't figured it out yet, that girl is me.
See, the thing with me is; I am the definition of perfect. Perfection is my middle name, and I truly feel that I am the only person in this district, in all of the districts, hell even the Capitol, who has achieved it. Barely even trying, I might add.
I should technically be in school right now, but I rarely ever go to that wretched place anyway. I've been too smart for school for about ten years now, and my parents have given up on trying to force me to go.
Actually they've pretty much given up on talking to me at all, ever since Julissa came along.
Julissa, or "Lissy" as my parents and her friends like to call her, is my ugly and annoying nine-year-old sister. Stealing all the attention since the day she was born, when I was an adorable eight year old. I remember trying to talk to my parents, doing all I can, while all they did was coddle and feed their new baby girl. Never making any time for their older, superior daughter. Things just got worse from there, when Julissa always sucked up to them and acted all sweet to get what she wanted. If I called her out on it, I was yelled at. Favoritism, much?
I think you have a pretty good idea of how I feel about my sister.
I open my huge closet, flipping through the various gowns that are hanging there. I never wear anything else, really. Pants? Skirts? Rags, like some people in the district have enough nerve to wear? Never. Not for me. I deserve nothing but luxury, which luckily my parents were wealthy enough to provide me with over my sixteen years of life. Now, if they could just stop giving so much of it to Julissa…
I freeze when a huge, amazing gold ball gown catches my eye. How have I never worn this before?! It is absolutely exquisite!
I immediately rip it from its hanger, carefully sliding it over my head. I gaze into the mirror, beaming at my even-more-perfect reflection.
Now all that's left is the shoes.
I open my second closet (yes, you read right, one closet is not enough for me), where thousands of shoes are stored, all high-heeled and expensive. I haven't worn flat shoes since I was about seven years old. Even the tiniest of heels is enough.
Shoes of every color lined the floor; warm reds and oranges and pinks fusing with colder blues and greens and purples, along with black and white and every shade and hue in between.
My gaze flickers to a pair far on the left, gold like my dress. Two of them, actually, one sparkly and the other simply shiny. I almost take them.
Almost.
Because, how could I wear gold shoes when my dress is gold? Way too much gold, right? Which is never good.
And so, I turn my attention to another two pairs of the same models and brands except silver rather than gold. That's more like it. Silver and gold go beautifully together.
Just as I am about to slip the silver shoes on, I hear a familiar and annoying voice.
"Makenna, dear, are you almost ready?"
My mother. She must be sick, or mistaking me for Julissa if she's actually talking to me.
"Yes, I am almost ready! What, you think I'm that incompetent? Why don't you go beautify Julissa, or try to. She and beautiful could never go together."
I hear her gasp behind my bedroom door, probably horrified at my words. After all, who would dare insult her darling Julissa, who apparently is so much better than me that she managed to steal all the attention from me that I deserve?
"Just-just come down as soon as you're ready. Okay? We should go soon."
Don't tell me what to do.
"Yeah, whatever."
I touch up my makeup one last time and grab a small charm bracelet I've been planning to use as my token after putting the shoes on and head downstairs to join my family for the reaping. I stop dead in my tracks about half the way down.
Julissa. She's wearing one of my old dresses. A pale pink one, with a bow in the back. I remember wearing it when I was eight at the reaping, just a month before she was born.
"Um, what do you think you're doing in that?" I yell, outraged at the sight.
Both my mother and sister jump at the sudden sound of my voice, startled.
"Mom gave it to me." Julissa claims.
God, I hate her.
I turn to face my mother, my face burning with anger.
"You have always been tall for your age, so you were Lissy's height when you were a year younger. I thought she would look-"
"That dress is mine! She has no right to wear it! Why must she always get the attention! Why does she always have to try to outshine me!"
Julissa's eyes, the same pale green as my mother's, widen.
"Oh, no that's-"
"Just stop!" I interrupt, not in the mood to hear her attempts at damage control.
My dad remains silent throughout the whole argument, as usual. He never speaks to me, only Julissa. It's not like mother though. He literally ignores me.
"Girls, girls, it's just a dress." My mother cuts in, "Makenna, it doesn't fit you anymore. Might as well make it a hand-me-down. Lissy, let your sister know beforehand next time I give you one of her dresses. Okay?"
Julissa, of course, nods her head like the obedient little monster she is, while I simply storm out the front door, not in the mood to look at any of them.
I can't wait to see their faces when I volunteer.
Tech Bassyn POV
"So, then, he ran straight to my house and was all 'I almost died, yo!' and I was like what –"
"I'm just so afraid. I mean, two years ago both our tributes were twelve with only one slip. I've got two!"
Two separate conversations are going on as we walk to the square. One consisting of Layne telling some tall tale that's probably half made-up to Weijl, the other of Liaal pouring all his emotions out on Haune.
I'm simply listening, alternating between the two conversations. I'm never in a chatty mood right before the reaping, even back when I wasn't eligible.I tend to only go back to normal once both tributes have been picked, almost instantly actually. Especially this year…29 slips.
"Wait, I'm confused. Who ran away? You keep jumping back and forth through time and space and I have no idea what's going on!"
"Liaal, don't worry about it! The chances of you being reaped are extremely thin!
"Jesus, Weijl, listen! My brother ran away! Anyway.."
"The chances of those twelve-year-olds getting reaped were even smaller and look what happened to them!
I can see the booths in the distance with their long line-ups splayed out before us. I cut into my friends' conversations immediately.
"We're here."
All conversation comes to an abrupt halt as we line up behind a tall, skinny girl in a grandiose gold gown that not even Liaal can most probably afford.
"Someone likes to show off her wealth…" Weijl mutters bitterly under his breath.
Apparently the girl heard him. She turns around, her face twisted into a fierce glare.
"Excuse me? Who do you think you are? You think I shouldn't be allowed to show pride in my wealth? I AM PERFECT AND DON'T YOU EVER TRY TO TELL ME OTHERWISE, UNDERSTAND? I AM A GODDESS. ALL THE OTHER TOWN PEOPLE, AND PEOPLE IN THE DISTRICTS 7 AND UP ARE SIMPLY LAVISH PEOPLE. SAME GOES FOR THE CAPITOL. BUT YOU? YOUR LITTLE FRIENDS? PEASANTS. ALL OF YOU!"
By the time her outburst is over, she is red in the face, fuming in anger. Layne and Haune have both somehow hidden themselves behind an unaffected Liaal who knows she just counted him in her group of "lavish people". Weijl, meanwhile, is grinning from ear to ear.
"I truly and deeply apologize, my lord. Carry on your day."
The sarcasm is practically dripping off of his words.
The girls simply huffs and turns away on her heels. Making her way to the latest booth that has been emptied.
"Next!" two attendants shout at once.
Weijl and I both make our way towards a booth. The man smiles softly at me throughout the whole procedure, but doesn't say a word.
Once we're all in, Haune goes off to the girls' section of the thirteen section, right across from us where we can still see each other's reactions and make faces at each other like we did last year.
"Welcome!"
The entire crowd hushes immediately at the booming sound of the escort's voice, a tall and muscular man who barely looks human under all his muscle. He also has dyed green skin, a tribute to some ancient comic series they say.
"Let's get this show on the road! We'll start with the girls as usual!"
He hobbles over to the reaping ball as best he could with the little range of motion that his huge muscles allow, pulling out the first slip his hand contacts before hobbling back to the mic. He clears his throat before reading the name out loud.
"Sylvetta Tanner!"
Straight across from me, in the thirteen section, Haune pales and nearly falls over onto the girl beside her. It take me a while to figure out why until that last name rings through my mind once more. I gasp.
Haune's protective older sister.
Makenna Flax POV
A small blonde girl from the fifteen section steps forward, looking extremely shaken. It's time. Time to prove my perfection to all who ever doubted me, like that group of acne-ridden, prepubescent boys in the check-in line. Ugh.
I step out of my section, the other sixteen-year old girls around me gasping in shock.
"I volunteer!"
The blonde girl, Sylvetta I guess, stops dead in her tracks. With a huge sigh of relief, she runs back to her section, choking out a relieved 'thank you' as she passes me.
I step onto the stage with my chin held high. I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that I can win this.
"Well. Hello. And your name is…?" the gross, unnatural-looking escort inquires.
"Makenna. Makenna Flax."
"Well, Makenna, congratulations! You're officially part of the 102nd annual Hunger Games! Think you can win it?"
I scoff. What a ridiculous question!
"I know I can win it." I reply.
"Such confidence. Awesome! Now, it's time for our boy tribute."
The name is drawn just as quickly and awkwardly as before, the very first name that could possibly be picked. He clears his throat again, as if it makes any difference in the raspy tone of his voice.
"Tech Bassyn!"
No response from the crowd. At least not at first. That is, before the horrible wailing starts. A boy in the thirteen section is screaming, crying, has thrown himself on the ground in a puddle of tears.
Sucks not being perfect, doesn't it.
In an instant the peacekeepers have him, lifting him up from the ground to half-drag, half-carry the flailing boy to the stage. They dump him onto the ground, leaving him to pick himself weakly from the ground.
I take a good look at him. He's tiny, even for his age, with short brown hair and eyes. Wearing an old grey shirt that way too big for him and black pants and boots. Very familiar, too…
Oh. He's one of those boys from earlier today, one of the two who didn't attempt to hide from me although his face was white as a sheet. Ha.
"Hey there, Tech. Congratulations! You think you can win this?"
The boy, Tech, does not make a sound. He stands completely motionless, shaking like a leaf and looking like he will vomit at any second. As long as none of it gets on me.
"I'll take that as a solid yes! God, I love when they get so excited they're speechless like that! So awesome! Alright, shake hands, kiddos."
I look down at him, shaking his hand for just barely a second in disgust, before turning away on my heels and heading towards the tribute room.
My last glimpse at district 8 before immersing the rest of my life in luxury.
Tech Bassyn POV
I don't think I have ever cried this much in a span of fifteen minutes in my life. I lay on the lavish couch of the tribute room, drenching the tiny cushion with my tears.
Why? Why did this happen? Of course, I knew it was a possibility but why? Haven't I been through enough?
Just before I can dissolve into another sobbing mess, the door opens, revealing all four of my friends. A red-faced, fuming Weijl. A pale-faced, teary-eyed Layne. A downright sobbing Liaal.
And finally, a completely hearbroken, haunted Haune. She does not shed a tear, but her face is blank. Shocked. Completely emotionless.
Layne speaks first.
"We're not pranking the mayor anymore. There's no point without Tech there."
He breaks down at that point, turning away, embarrassed at this uncharacteristic display of emotion. This, of course, triggers Liaal to cry even harder. He follows Layne, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder as they both sob.
Weijl doesn't cry. Not even a bit.
"Tech. Don't try to act brave when you're over there. Don't even try. I know you're a scaredy-cat, almost even worse than Liaal. Don't be something you're not."
Thanks, Weijl. Really appreciated.
"But. I know what you really are. You're sly. You're sneaky. You may be scared, but you sure as hell don't show it. Use that…and I know you can win it."
I nod my head, shielding my tear-streaked wreck of a face from him as much as possible.
Haune remains silent, staring into space. I can't help but wonder what horrors are going through her mind.
The peackeepers come then, immediately taking them away. Weijl calls out one more phrase that sticks out from the shaky, generic good luck wishes.
"Kick that Makenna girl's ass, Tech!"
I plan to.
They're gone then, Haune's terrifying expression burned in my mind. I'll probably never know what was going through her mind.
The room is quiet again just as quickly as it became noisy with the presence of my friends. I hate it. The quiet is dangerous. The quiet leaves me alone, with only my own thoughts to torment me.
It doesn't stay very long, though.
Just seconds after my loud, crazy group of friends left the room, my family walked in. That being just my two sisters. Dad is probably too drunk to even stand, just like he's always been since Mom died. If not for Electra, we'd probably all be dead now.
Well, I'm pretty much dead anyway..
Electra, now nineteen, does not shed a tear. I've actually never seen her cry, although she says she did a lot after Mom died. This life has hardened her, made her tougher than anyone else I know.
"How you feeling, Tech?" is all she asks.
Depressed. Doomed. Overwhelmed. Nauseous. Terrified.
"Alright."
Electra frowns at me, knowing me too well to believe me. That's when the emotions spill out, raining tears down my face all over again. Electra always manages to do that when I'm trying to be strong, and I've always hated it.
"I'm so scared, Electra. How am I going to win this? There will be Careers, and eighteen year olds and – and –"
Electra hugs me, allowing me to cry into her shoulder.
"Don't worry about all that. You're sly, remember? Just stay out of sight. Trick people into letting you survive. You'll be able to do that. Right?"
I lift my head and nod in understanding. I am sly, and I will be able to do that.
"Thanks, Electra."
She simply nods and kisses the top of my head, leaving eleven year old Spark to jump into my lap.
"You'll be fine, Tech, don't worry! I know you can win it!" she exclaims with a grin.
Spark kisses me swiftly on the cheek before hopping off of my lap and hugging Electra around the waist. The Peacekeepers come shortly after to take them away.
Leaving me once again with the silence.
But this time, the silence feeds me positive thoughts. Maybe I can do this. Maybe I'll be able to win the games, just like Electra and Spark said I could.
Maybe, just maybe, I have a chance.
Makenna Flax POV
This is it, I think to myself, finally, you'll be free of those loser parents and attention-stealing sister of yours. All has gone according to plan.
But, of course, that isn't quite true. The whole reason why I'm even sitting in this gorgeous room is because my family is supposed to come and see me. Ugh. Let's get this over with.
Right on cue, they walk in. Not all of them, just my mother and sister. Of course, my dad went home right away. I didn't expect anything less from him. If only he'd taken Julissa with him. Then I would finally all of my mother's attention, for the first time in 9 years.
Surprisingly, my mother speaks first.
"Makenna…why? Why would you do this?"
She looks horrified, completely dumbstruck. Of course she doesn't expect me to win. She and my father have never been able to see the perfection in me. Pitiful.
"Why wouldn't I? I'm perfect! I always have been! Why wouldn't I take advantage of that?! Win the Hunger Games, and live a life of luxury!"
My mother puts her face in her hands, sobbing, making Julissa jump back a little.
"This is all my fault!" she sobs, "It's my fault you're like this, it's all on me…I've tried so hard to help you and it's all on me."
I'm completely baffled by my mother's behavior. Why would she cry over having made a perfect child?
"Mother, you should be glad to have me as your daughter! You've given birth to a perfect child! Why aren't you happy with that? Why did you have to try to make another child when you already had perfection under your roof? WHY? WHY DID YOU DO THAT? WHY DOES SHE EXIST?" I cry, pointing a shaking, accusing finger at Julissa, who's still wearing my pink dress with the bow.
The little demon child gasps at my words, her face crumpling in despair and tears flowing down her face. Surely an attempt to regain our mother's attention, as usual.
And she succeeds. My mother, still wailing, grabs her by the hand and pulls her out the door, nearly plowing down the peacekeeper who was on his way to retrieve them.
She'll regret it. They both will. My mother will wish she had never given birth to Julissa, and the latter will wish she had never been born. All this after I win the Hunger Games, and prove to the world that perfection really does exist.
And that I am the one, the only one, who possesses it.
A/N
So, there you have it. District 8! How's that for a quicker update. Just barely a month later. Sure beats three though, doesn't it?
We're almost there, guys! Nine days left of school and then I'm free to write as much as I want, so stay tuned for District 9!
Reviews are love xox