Chapter Seven.
Reapings Part Two.
Bastian Steppes; 17 years old.
District Eleven Male.
Bastian thought that his week couldn't get any worse. But of course, due to his wonderful luck, he had to face the reapings. He wanted nothing more than to tell them all to fuck off, but for now, he had to behave. His mother had made him promise that he wouldn't get into anymore trouble before leaving the house, and he had done his best to say yes. After all, there isn't much that you won't do for a crippled person. In a place like District Eleven, everyone knew that crippled people didn't have a great chance of making it past the day.
They couldn't take the next day for granted, like many people did. Like they did. The kids from the richer districts, the Careers. That was one of the reasons why Bastian hated Careers so much. They got everything, a good family and a good life, but in the end, they still choosed to train and volunteer for a match where they could give it all away. Just like that. How sad would it be if smeone can and took everything away from them, just like that. Oh, and wouldn't Bastian love to be that person.
But for now, he had to face the reaping. People passed throught him, but most kept their heads down. If there was a good thing that the people from District Eleven had and the others didn't, it was the fact that they knew who to stay away from. They knew that his family wasn't exactly popular with the Peacekeepers, or with the Capitol, for that matter. Bastian himself had been arrested more than one time. For speaking up his mind. But in the end, he also knew his limits. There were people that could suffer for what he did, and even Bastian wasn't completly detached to that. His family had already suffered enough for one lifetime.
Every thing he did, he did it for them. Yes, he might be a bit annoying from time to time, but he would do anything for them. They were still the people that were worth living for. Worth fighting for. And because of that, Bastian would never give up while he could still walk.
His little sister, walking by his side with his best friend Pepper on the other, an optimistic smile on her face. He had tried to understand before, but he just couldn't. Bastian and Spring, so different and yet so alike. His sister, who looked on the bright side of everything and never did once thought that things could get worse, because for her, they would only get better. Still, one way or another, she was the happiest member of the Steppes family. Bastian would have killed to know how she did it.
"Are you excited, Bastian? It's almost your final reaping! After next year, you'll be free to make the most of your life. That's so amazing!" Spring gave him a little smile, tugging at his hand.
Yeah. Fan-fucking-tastic. He couldn't absolutely wait to be an oficial slave to the Capitol, forced to work for them for the rest of his life, and they would make sure that his children would suffer the same fate. What made him more angry than anything was the fact that he couldn't do shit about it. Bastian hated it when he couldn't be in control. It made him nervous, and whenever Bastian got nervous, he spoke whatever the fuck was on his mind.
And boy, didn't people love whatever Bastian thought.
"Yeah. I absolutely can't fucking wait. That is, if I don't die before that. Because you know, finding death in this place is as easy as finding someone to get laid with." He did love his sister, but he absolutely adored to joke with her like this. That didn't mean that he wouldn't beat up any boy that dared to even whisper her name. She wouldn't be ready, not until she was like twenty or something. Fine, maybe eighteen. Considering that he had get laid before he was eighteen, it would only be fair to give the same chance to his little sister.
He wasn't that mean. "Language, Bastian. Your sister is only fourteen, bud." Pepper laughed. If it was someone else, Bastian would have told him to fuck off, since it was his own sister and he would figure out the right way to deal with her later. But it was Pepper, and he was Bastian's only friend and he knew that Spring hated conflict. And here, besides two of the three people that he cared about in the world, Bastian allowed himself to relax. Yes, they might be heading for the reapings, but so what?
Bastian would kill anyone that tried to ruin with. But like all good things, it must come to an end. Once they reached the square, the peaceful reality that Bastian could surely get used to quickly disappeared. That's why Bastian hated the Capitol. Why he hated the Games. Why he hated people like them. Because of them, all good things had to come to an end. Because of them, he couldn't keep anything that he truly enjoyed.
When the Plain Vanilla took his blood, Bastian didn't even look twice at her before leaving to his section in the back. Pepper was already there waiting for him, picking up a fight with another boy next to them, only to have the Peacekeepers break them apart. It wasn't worth it, at least, not in a day like this. Bastian could be many things, but if anything, he had respect for the poeple that were about to be sent of to their deaths. Which would most likely be black.
"And for the female, we have Amina Conlan! Come up, dear!" A dark skinned girl walked to the stage, walking quickly to the escort's side. Brave girl, Bastian thought.
At least they would have someone decent to represent their district. Or so did he thought. "Bastian Steppes!"
"Oh, fuck you, Chalk Face."
Oh? They wanted him? Bastian guessed that he would have to introduce them to his fists. He didn't move. He stood still. If he wanted them, they would have to come at him. Once the first Peacekeeper came to him, Bastian punched him straight in the jaw. But of course, they were too many for him. As always. When they dragged him to the stage, Bastian kept fighting. Because that was like he wanted to be remembered. Like a fighter.
Amina Conlan; 17 years old.
District Eleven Female.
Unlike many other girls in District Eleven, Amina was completly relaxed. After all, why wouldn't she? It was a beautiful day, the sun shining brightly, and the future had never looked so bright for her. What was a reaping, for someone like Amina, that had everything she could possibly want in life? Well, not much. There were thousands of girls that could be chosen at today's reaping. When she was a little girl, her parents had always told her that if she was a good girl and didn't do anything to upset the Capitol, then she wouldn't be reaped.
She would stay home, with her family and her friends, allowed to live the rest of her days in peace. And so she did. Until now, Amina Conlan had done nothing else than what people asked of her anduntil now, it had worked. She was safe from the reaping. One more year, and she would start living her life at its fullest. But that surely didn't mean that she couldn't have a bit of fun, from time to time. After all, what was life without a bit of fun? Boring. An endless boring history, that no one would care about in the end. And Amina couldn't let that happen.
She wanted to be remembered, as something good. Someone important, someone that did her best to help others and give them advice that would help them make a better future. But that didn't mean that her opinions were always absolutely nice, though. Whenever she thought of something or saw something bad, for that matter.
That was her life, and anyone that didn't like it, could go and mind their own business. Because right now, this was a good day. And no one in the right mind would dare to ruin Amina's good day. Amina looked around as she passed her family's plantation. It was reaping day, yes, but some people had to work today or they wouldn't have any food for the next wee. It was simple. Some worked, some ate. Amina only happened to have been born on the right side of District Eleven, unlike many other people.
"I'll be in the back, alright? When the reaping ends, we can go over to my house. My parents won't be there." They had been walking for a while now, mostly to enjoy the sun and the beautiful day, but also for each other's company. Gerrit was her fiancé, but like with every other good love story, there were people that didn't aprove of it. Her parents thought that she was too young for it, and her friends thought that she was probably being too trusting to offer herself to someone older, but Amina couldn't care less.
She loved him and he loved her. What else would she have to do to make them understand? Show up pregnant at their doorstep? She hoped not. Because in a month, she would turn eighteen and would finally be able to marry the love of her, without anyone getting in the way. "I won't hide from them, Gerrit. I'm not a street rat, like them. I'm going to be your wife and besides, you know they love me. What's the matter?" Finian passed throught them, a young girl in his arm. Probably another one night stand, but Amina being Amina, had to know if the rumors were true.
"Finian!" She called, and ran to his side, dragging Gerrit with her. "Can I have a minute with you?"
Her friend smiled. "Of course," He turned to the girl next to him. "Ran along, Merida, I'll catch up with you later, okay?" He winked, and the girl smiled and left. Finally. Now she could know the truth.
"You're with that girl? I mean, I have been hearing so much about the mysterious girl that stole Finian Calart's heart, and she ends up being some street rat from the fields? Constance and her little bitch group were right, after all." Finian blushed, but he seemed quite annoyed.
"Amina, I don't think that's really your bus-" What? She was being his friend, giving him some advice to stop him from turning his reputation to dust, and he was still being rude? Oh well. District Eleven might be a poor place, but like every other, there were people that couldn't mind their own business. Amina wasn't too proud to be included in that group, but well, it was better to be one of the people that talked rather than the one that people talked about.
Amina had build this life for herself, and she wasn't about to let anyone ruin it. "Well, just a little bit of advice from your oldest friend. Don't let people see you with her, if you don't want your life ruined. Good luck at the reaping, Finian."
Once Finian was out of sight, Gerrit turned to her. "Was that really necessary?"
"Of course it was," Amina said. "I coudn't let my best friend ruin his life because of some ugly thing, could I?"Gerrit could not agree with some things that she did, but Amina knew that he understood her. That's why she loved him, and he loved her back. Because they understood each other, and at the end of the day, they only had each other. And that was a bond that no one ever could truly break. Not even death.
And surely not a stupid little reaping. Amina had faced the reapings before, and she was still there. Alive, well, and happy. Not even the Capitol could take that away from her.
Once the reaping oficially started, and they were all in their rightful place, Amina couldn't help but notice that things didn't look so happy anymore. Thousands of District Eleven people, all quiet, waiting for the death setence that would be delivered to two of their children, that almost surely wouldn't make it back. Suddenly, Amina's day wasn't looking so bright anymore.
Her life was good. She had everything that she could possibly want, but now she was the female tribute.
No, not me. Why me?
Right now, she had to focus. She had to push her emotions aside, and deal with them later. Right now, it was all about making a good impression. Because good impressions would get her far, and emotions wouldn't.
Blaine Parker; 17 years old.
District Three Male.
Blaine was standing in front of his house, watching everything around him. It was almost like some kind of goodbye to the house that had been his home for six years. Blaine hated goodbyes, but still, he felt like this was necessary. In the world of Panem, they lived in a dangerous reality. One where their home could be taken from them at any minute, and they couldn't do anything to fight back. But still, Blaine admired his people and everything that they did to make sure that the reaping didn't get to them.
In the reaping day, people stood together. United as one. Because in the end, no matter how mad their loss was, they always had each other. And a place that they could truly call their home at the end of the day.
Bullshit. The Capitol could come at any time and tear them apart, Blaine was sure of that. People just tried to make the world a better place than what it truly was and in the end, they were disappointed. Blaine might not have much, but he did that have that one good thing on his side. He didn't expect much from anyone, so he wasn't truly disappointed when they gave him nothing back. Life in the District Three was the same for every teenager when the reaping day arrived.
No matter who they were, or what they did, if their name was called at the reaping, they were complety fucked. Without a single chance of making it out of the bloodbath, that was how the rest of Panem saw the tributes of District Three. Yeah, maybe there were a few exceptions, like Beetee Latier, who had use the skills that he had picked up on his family's factory, and fried six tributes at once with his skills.
But that was him, and not everyone could be Beetee Latier. Most tributes were screwed as soon as their name was called at the reaping, and the people back home could do absolutely nothing to help them. They could cheer if they won, and cry when their body came back from the Capitol. Nothing else, nothing more.
The world was truly a filthy horror show. That was why Blaine prefered to keep a distance between the other people and himself. If he didn't look out for himself, then who would? No one. He had learned since he was a little boy that if you didn't have your own back, then no one would. He was happy when people allowed him to remain on his own. He could make a life from that, a life of his own, where no one would ever decide what he should or shouldn't do.
Well, fuck that.
Liting up a cigarette and taking one last look at the house, Blaine started to turn away. It was time to leave, time to face the beast that the Capitol was about unleash on them. He was about to leave, when someone called for him. Of course. Because Blaine Parker couldn't be allowed to smoke his swet cigarette and take a walk to the reapings alone, without someone getting in his way. Well, well, wasn't it his favorite person in the world?
"Blaine," Blaine couldn't help but be amused at the look on the man's face when he saw him with a cigarette. "You should get a coat, son, it will rain soon." He was a small man, afraid of everything. Even afraid of his own shadow. Blaine found it amusing at times, how easily he could scare Darol.
"Mind your own business, old man. When I'm cold, I'll get a fucking coat." Darol started at him for a moment, probably trying to find the right words to tell him off. But like always, he didn't found anything.
"Like I thought. I'm off to see who they deliver the death sentence to, so don't expect me home anytime soon. Who knows. Maybe I'll get reaped and put you out of the misery of having to live with me. See you, old man." He turned away, and joined the people making their way to the reaping on the road. Whatever. He wasn't sure if the man was his real dad, anyway.
They were many, and some already knew him. They knew better than to talk to him, because Blaine Parker was better on his own. His cigarettes were his bet friends, and the people around him were his enemies. Some still turned around whenever the smoke got to them and gave him dirty looks, but Blaine didn't care. This was his alive, and anyone that didn't like it might as well fuck off.
He would deal with it later, like he always did. Or maybe he wouldn't, and he would forget all about it over a bottle of whisky. Either way, that was a problem for later, and not for now. Now he had to face whatever the Capitol was going to throw at them. Somehwere down the road to the square, Quinn and Erin caught up with him. The later gave him an hard look. She hated when he and Quinn smoke, since it was apparently bad for their health. Yeah, who the hell cared about lungs in a place like District Three?
Blaine didn't, and cigarettes made him feel good, so he wasn't about to go on and stop smoking. Erin quickly snatched the cigarette from his mouth, and smirked while putting off. "Hey, that was my last good cigarette! You owe me one now."
Erin cocked an eyebrow. "It's bad for your health. Besides, look," She pointed at a few Peacekeeers near them. "If they catch you with one, you're good as dead, my friend."
"Well, if they catch me with one, I'll just say you gave them to me and screw your pretty girl reputation over. How does that sound?" Erin kicked him playful at the side, and Quinn followed her lead.
"Hey, no kicking my girl, man. Or I might have to kick your ass too."
Erin rolled her eyes. "Please. Like I couldn't handle myself, babe. Oh well," Erin sighed as she walked to a Peacekeeper, to let him take her blood. "I'll see you guys soon."
Quinn followed him to the boy's side, and right there, the reaping started. "Let's start with the girls!" Blaine had only one girl that he cared about. Erin was almost out, she needed to stay safe. Please, Please...
"Nerinea Aravis!" A pretty asian girl, with straight black hair, laughed it off and smiled, leisurely strolling to the stage. When there was the optimistic side of District Three, Nerinea was surely a part of it. Or she was complety mad. Or maybe, a little bit of both of them. Who knows.
"And now, let's pick a lovely young man to join Miss Aravis!" She smiled. Blaine could almost taste it. "Blaine Parker!" He wasn't too suprised when his name was called. Not really.
He was so dead. No, not yet. He wouldn't go down without a fight. He wouldn't give them what they wanted.
Amaryllis Carmellia; 16 years old.
District Twelve Female.
"Amy, what do you think will happen today?"
Amaryllis tried to stop herself from answering back. Always a smile, even when she wanted to do much more than that. Her smiles would get her somewhere that other things wouldn't. So, being herself, Amy smiled. "Well, two unfortunate teenagers will get reaped and we will wait for one of them to come back. And please, darling, Amaryllis will do the trick."
Paislee, one of Amaryllis' best friends, was lying down on Amy's bed, two dresses next to her. She was still having trouble picking one, but oh well, that was what Paislee was here for. Helping her pick which one suited her best for the reaping. "But you don't think it will be us, do you? Or Asher. Or my siblings."
That were five slips in thousands, for Amaryllis. If there was ever a chance as small as this one, it was the chance of being picked for the reaping. "Of course. I mean, we of the Merchant side have the smallest chances of anyone in District Twelve. If there's anyone that won't be reaped, it's us. Trust me, I know." Amaryllis would have loved to change that sentence to If there's anyone that won't be reaped, it's me.
But right now, her job was to help her friend feel better, and if there was one thing that Amaryllis was truly good at, it was making people feel better. "So, which one do you think suits me better?" She picked up both dresses, trying to decide which one would make her gold locks look better.
"The blue, without a question. It goes with your eyes, and with your hair. But well, you have so many that it would probably take you a whole week to choose." Amaryllis sighed. Paislee was right. Unlike so many people in District Twelve, she had too much to pick from. Wait... That didn't mean that other people were like her. Seeing the look that her friend was giving to her dresses, Amy finally made a decision.
"You can have it." She throwed the red dress to Paislee, winking to her. "We both know that Asher has his eyes on you, and we don't want to disappoint our friend, do we?" Paislee looked like someone had told her that she was free from the reaping for the rest of her life.
"Yo-you mean it?" Amy had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. If she had it, why wouldn't she meant it? Everyone in District Twelve knew that Amaryllis Carmellia wasn't someone that was about to go and change her mind. When she decided something, it was done. No matter what, nothing could make her change her mind.
"Of course I do. Now go and change, we need to get to the square before the reapings start. Being late is bad for our image." Mostly mine.
Paislee gave her a quick hug, and ran off to Amy's bathroom, the red dress in her hand. "Thank you, thank you, Amy!" Ugh. If Amy was to hang with her, that little habbit would have to go. Her name was Amaryllis, not Amy. That feeling. Amaryllis did anything for that feeling. In the humorous place that was District Twelve, Amaryllis was above all of them.
Just like she had done with her friend a few seconds ago, Amy fixed their lives. She gave them the purpose, and fixed it while they couldn't do anything on their own. In the dark that was District Twelve, Amaryllis liked to think of herself as the light. But still, it didn't hurt to have people on her side. A little kiss here, a dress there, and they would end up kissing her feet at the end of the day. People were so easy to manipulate. So easy to move around , like a toy.
District Twelve saw Amaryllis Carmellia as a saint. Their mouths would surely drop if they ever got to know the real her. But Amaryllis liked it that way. Image was everything, and image had gotten her where she was right now. But in the end, she would always choose herself and to save her own skin. She would murder to whole of District Twelve if it meant that she would get to keep her life. She mattered, and the others didn't. Simple as that.
As soon as Paislee came out, looking as happy as ever, Amy checked her hair one more time and they were ready to go. It was quite boring, having to kiss every single person goodbye before leaving for the reapings. It's not like she wasn't seeing them again, anyway. Just an hour, and she would be back into her home. The walk for the reaping went quicker than Amy thought. Some people saying hello, someone asking her if she thought they would be reaped, and others wishing her good luck. But in the end, all of them found their way back to her.
Amy grinned to herself. The light of District Twelve, indeed.
As soon as they reached the square, Asher and Weylyn reached them. She winked at Asher, and in that second, Asher's eyes light up when he looked at Paislee. Amy knew that Asher was madly in love with her, and that Paislee was in love with Asher. Since the boy would do anything for her, it wasn't that much of a trouble to join the two of them together. A little kiss there and here, and Asher would do what she wanted and stay with Paislee. Amy was truly proud of herself. Her parents, her family, her friends. She kept them all together, all by her side, no matter who she had to manipulate to do it.
This was her life, and no one was going to take it way from her. "Ohhh, guys. Good luck!" Amy brought them all together for a group hug and smirked when they left, each one to their side.
Oh, yes, this was the life.
Once the mayor finished his speech, and the escort walked in, Amy took one good look at Asher, at her friends. They all need to be safe. yes, she believed they would be safe. "For the girls! Amaryllis Carmellia!" The square was silent. For a moment, Amy was quiet, waiting for the chosen girl to take her place on the stage. But then she realized it. It was her.
And then, for the first time in her life, Amaryllis Carmellia broke. She could only notice the tears streaming down her face, be-because it couldn't be her, right? She had done it all, she was good, she had a life ahead of her, she was a good girl. What did she do to deserve this? Nothing. "NO, IT CAN'T BE ME! I did nothing wrong, pl-please!" The peacekeepers came for her. No, this couldn't be it. Amaryllis Carmellia wouldn't end like this. Without thinking, she made her away past the other girls, pushing and punching her way out. C'mon... please. Just a little more.
She was about to get to the lower square, to her friends and family, when they grabbed her. Amaryllis fought, kicking and punching her way out, and even managed to bite one. District Twelve was shocked. Their saint had finally broke. It was only on stage that Amaryllis realized it. This wouldn't be the last they would see of her. She was Amaryllis Carmellia, and hell she would make it back. No matter what.
A/N: The reapings are done! So close to the Capitol! xD Let me know!