District 3 Reapings
~Why should I have a heavy heart?
Why should I start to break into pieces?
Why should I go and fall apart for you?~
Veronica Alder (17), District 3
Veronica sighed to herself as she saw Uncle Donovan's messy desk that had white papers covering the black desk, she assumed the papers were probably useful for him, but she wasn't sure. She never really entered Uncle's study before. It was usually grabbing the white chipped mugs when they were running low on cups, but they were usually right by the door most of the time. Sometimes, Veronica was kind of grateful for since she really didn't know what her uncle enclosed in that room. It wasn't like she was a curious person after all, and there was no reason for entering his study anyways.
Veronica often wished that her cousin, Nanette, and Uncle had more cleaning and organizing skills, instead of just throwing things around carelessly. Like what happened if they threw away something important? It was just one of their flaws that she wished she would be able to fix. Veronica believed that everyone shouldn't have flaws, since they were probably designed that way, but the genes were probably at fault. Veronica sometimes wished that she was perfect, even though she knew no one was, but it didn't stop her from trying to be perfect.
"He really needs to clean up his mess," murmured Veronica with a hint of bitterness in her tone. Her amber eyes scanned the room which was probably in a decent state than his desk. His file cabinets were opened or had papers sticking out roughly. He seemed to throw his clothes on his couch and his brown sofa was barely peeking out of the mountain of clothes he seemed to have. Maybe if she asked politely, he would clean up his mess as if Uncle would actually listen to her criticism for possibly the billionth time now. It possibly didn't help if he loved to work a lot after Aunt died during the rebellion, by the Capitol for being a rebel in the rebellion.
"You really shouldn't be here," said Cousin Nanette wearily. Veronica looked down at her, and smiled slightly at her. Nanette's short frame almost made Veronica felt like a giant with her 5'9; something Uncle always speculated that she got it from her mother's side since she was roughly the same size of her or, so he said. Mom and dad died shortly after the rebellion broke out, causing chaos and a terrible government. At least now there was a better government instead of the dictated government back then when President Charlotte Carstairs was still president. The newly resonated President Charlotte Carstairs seemed like she would make a wonderful president, but she only been in the office for possibly a few weeks. Only time would tell.
"I was merely getting the mugs out unless you don't want clean mugs," she said, grabbing the five mugs that looked like there was quite a bit of a dark substance which was most likely coffee as Uncle didn't really drink anything, but coffee when he was home locked in his office working. The only way that he was capable to deal with his depression, and Veronica really thought the antidepressant pills could rectify him up into his normal personality, before this disease controlled his brain. Every problem has a solution, right? "I'm getting this done before the reaping, Nanette."
The reaping. Such a strange word to use, but it was the price to pay for rebelling against the Capitol, causing death on both sides. She was only seven years old when the Hunger Games were announced publicly; the punishment for the districts, shortly after the Capitol obliterated District 13. Veronica found the thought about killing others sickening, but surely there was another solution instead of these Hunger Games.
"Okay… Also, could I have some money to go to the town square?"
"For what? It better not for those sparkling trinkets that you love to collect so much," Veronica said with a hint of accusation in her tone. She was tempted to get her journal from her room, and that had an extreme fascination with not useful trinket, but did. It didn't hurt to try to see indeed. It didn't hurt to be sure that she scribbled it down, and she didn't pretend she did.
"Yes." Rude, Veronica thought to herself. Perhaps she should write that down, or maybe it was hormones that was coursing through Nanette's body due to puberty. Whatever it was, it almost made her to get her notebook. Her notebook was one of the very dear objects close to her. She loved writing things down, but she didn't treat it as a diary or a journal that held small stories that it seemed most of her classmates held. She found diaries an excuse to get blackmailed, it was usually about I have a crush on Maxon. I wish he would notice me, especially with his flawless skin and dreamy blue eyes. Or her personal favorite-I don't act like I miss my parents since they often mentally abuse me, but every night I cry myself to sleep clutching a photo. Veronica really hated those kinds of diary entries, and really wanted to criticize that the person was being hopeless. Life goes on, and spending time being a helpless person didn't help. At least robots can be fixed with different code that would make them perfection.
Veronica's notebook, however, really wasn't like that. She encased secrets or flaws depending on what she finds out about them. Most of it were just flaws that she found in the person. Uncle Donovan, for example, was written down as a depressed person who would probably be incapable in taking care of himself, if it wasn't for Veronica and Nanette whenever she was home and an act of lack of tidiness. Veronica already knew what caused Uncle's depression-his wife. He simply wasn't able to move on to do something else instead of mourn for her late-aunt. He was, however, simply unable to move on unlike Veronica. She didn't miss her parents much unless someone brought it up, which usually made her feel sad and hopeless just like dozens before her. Dozens of her classmates lost their parents so why would she be any different?
Her notebook was organized in 3 different categories-flaws, classmates secrets, and a small section in the back of her notebook was her goals to be perfect, with the first one was to improve her school grades to get at least an A in every class instead of her average 'B' and occasional 'C's. Veronica wanted to be perfect, maybe that's why it took her so long to make a decision.
"Are you listening to me?" demanded Nanette. Veronica's amber eyes looked at Nanette's dark green ones-something that Nanette gotten from her mother, Veronica's Aunt. It was hard to imagine that both of them were related, they looked totally opposite of each other. Veronica's skin was a darker shade than Uncle and Nanette's olive complexion.
"Yeah, I just spaced out a bit… I'll get you some money, and make sure you be at the square by noon!" She called out, which earned an eye roll from Nanette before she walked out of her sight. Veronica was fine with Nanette leaving, as long as she was on time for the reaping which she was usually. It wasn't like she was like every other teenager who disobeyed at every whim. Veronica would love to fix the other teenagers who never obeyed. Rules were rules after all.
~The bright colors fill my head
A million dreams are keeping me awake
I think of what the world could be
A vision of the one I see~
Breccan Herschel (17), District 3
Breccan looked at his friend, Emilia, while she picked up something-a flower, perhaps? He didn't know and by the way he could hear the stem breaking, he assumed it was a flower. It wasn't like he could see what it looked like, he lived in total darkness with the only expectation of the light perception whenever the light was bright enough. He couldn't remember what red or simply blue looked like, but he knew maybe one day he could find the difference between the two. It was a challenge that he would like to overcome.
"Here," She said. Emilia dropped something in his pale hand, and he knew exactly what it was-a flower. It was tiny flower that possibly bloomed only recently. "It's for good luck for the reaping. I won't need it, it's my last reaping. It's your second to last, and who knows maybe your eyesight can come back."
Breccaan let out a small laugh at the comment. The doctors told him it was permanent, because of all the acids and chemicals that were released in the air that day. There really wasn't a chance of his eyes being able to see again. Breccaan missed his eyesight sometimes, but he grew accustomed to being unable to see. Besides, he had some advantage of being blind, of almost having another chance of learning everything all over. Breccaan practiced many times to get it to perfection, despite him not being able to read or write anymore. He didn't mind.
"Thank you," he said. He tucked it behind his ear, and gave her a small smile in return.
"What are friends for," she responded. Her dark eyes looked at him, and he felt the urge to blush and admit something that he wouldn't have the courage to tell her: He had a crush on her. The way that she seemed to be the rain to his flowers. It wasn't like he could come up and say it to her without making a complete fool of himself. That was the part he certainly dreaded the most, so he stayed reticent. "We should be getting back. It's not like we could stay out."
Breccaan stood up and helped Emilia off the ground. He said goodbye and headed towards the direction of where his house was located at. It was the same exact paces: 100 steps to be precise. He heard a small cry coming from somewhere nearby. Breccaan abandoned his original route and headed towards the child whom was crying loudly. He hoped that he could make the child feel better, instead of ignoring the poor child.
Soon, Breccaan reached the child and knelt down right in front of the child. He spoke softly enough for the child wouldn't freak out.
"What's the matter?"
"I-I l-lost my mommy and daddy! I don't know where they are!" The child wailed on. The child sounded like a female, but he didn't want to judge the child in case he was wrong.
"Do you want me to help you look for them? I don't know what they look like, but I'm sure you could help me out," he told her gently.
Breccaan placed a hand on her hairy arm and gently lifted her up. He sighed as the tiny child continue to wail on, but he ignored it. There were two options here: take the child to the peacekeepers or help her find her parents, he chose the latter. It wouldn't be right to leave a child possibly five or six-years-old in the middle of the park. It wasn't like he could leave her alone and who knows a stranger might kidnap her.
"Do you know what your parents look like?"
The small child scrunched her face up in a thoughtful look before she responded, "Mommy has dark skin, very curly hair and looks like a giant! Daddy has paler skin, and he looks like a ghost-" she let out a small chuckle which Breccaan smiled at the image that floated through his mind. "His hair looks like the sun and his eyes are chocolate including mommy's."
"Don't worry we'll find them," he reassured her.
They spoke in soft voices while Breccaan slowly walked with the young girl as she made sniffling noises, but it was soon abandoned when the little girl let out a shriek of delight and darted off somewhere. He could feel the ghostly feeling of where the girl's small hands were in his sweaty palms and smiled. At least the girl founded her parents though which brightened his day even though his day was already brighter.
He heard a few footsteps coming his way; probably the child and the parents coming to congratulate him of finding their daughter. The footsteps stopped in front of him. A soft voice spoke,
"Thank you for finding Yrene. She ran off somewhere, and we were unable to locate her."
"Not a problem. The least I could do for a child," he said to them.
He felt a large hand on his shoulder and the father spoke in a hoarse voice, "You're a good lad. A real gentleman at that."
"Thank you."
"Be safe!" The mother cried out and Breccaan turned on his heels and walked away, headed towards home.
~Taking control of this kind of moment
I'm locked and loaded
Completely focused my mind is open~
Celaena Millir-District 3 Mentor
Celaena rubbed at her eyes, hoping to be more awake. She'd spent most of the night planning on how to take her mother ring back which was now hers. She trudged sleepily to the bathroom, glancing at the calendar right beside the eggshell-white door that led to the bathroom. Her eyes widen when she saw the date and moaned. It couldn't possibly be Reaping Day already. The thought just made her want to shrivel up and die, which sadly wasn't an option since she made a vow to herself a little over a week ago that she would bring someone home. And she hadn't forgotten about it.
Though the thought of flipping off the Escort, and take care of the tributes made her a little bit of excited for the reaping. She always loved her tributes despite her disabilities-mostly about her dissociation whenever one brought up the Hunger Games or The Dark Days; that was where she had struggles since there was no one to guide her. Her buddies were sometimes there, but they all had lives of their own, and besides they only got together once every two weeks to gamble their belongings away. The only way to cope with each of their pain because of the Dark Days, some of them forged PTSD because of it.
"Cell, where are you?!" came a feminine voice. It was one of her old friends-Lisle Halloway. She hadn't spoken to her since she was eighteen-years-old, shortly right after she won the Hunger Games and gotten back after her Victory Tour. Lisle and Celaena used to be close when they were teenagers, became inseparable right after Lisle moved to three. Lisle was from District Eight, she moved here because of the Universities and high schools located throughout the district. Lisle claimed it was because of the huge amount of University offers the District had, which made her move and she came from a rich background, to pay her passport and fee to move.
Celaena rolled her eyes at her old nickname that she loathed very much. Lisle claimed it was such a mouthful to even pronounce, and she always loved learning about cells. She spoke in a loud tone, "In here, Lisle!"
Lisle barged into the room, without any signs of knocking, though Lisle never cared about privacy, especially if one was changing. Celaena always assumed it was the household she grew up too and how different three was compared to eight. Lisle hadn't changed much when she last saw her-Lisle still held her chubby fram, he dark eyes framed by black glasses and she pinned her hair back into a messy bun. She parted her lips and spoke or yelled, "Celaena! What are you wearing? A nightgown after noon? Reaping is in one hour!"
Celaena scoffed at her comment. Lisle still hadn't changed-obsessed with time and promptness, unlike Celaena. She would rather miss the event than attend, much like she always did when someone wanted to invite her to something. Normally, she always received an invite for a bookclub which she refused. She didn't like books and she was sometimes afraid of what the people would say.
"Yeah, I'll just put on a simple black dress because I'll most likely send them to their deaths," responded Celaena with bitterness. Or suffocate the Escort, depending which came first, she silently added, but she didn't even dare to speak that.
Celaena grabbed a black dress with spaghetti straps and walked slowly to the bathroom to get dress. She threw on the outfit and brushed her auburn hair.
"Happy?"
"Yes! Now let's go!"
Celaena groaned, but followed her old friend out the door and towards Town Square where the reaping took place.
By the time she got there, the square was already packed with crowds. Of course, Celaena and Lisle got there early to where the parade was starting. The parade District 3 had was short and only consisted of a few things: musicans, dancers and a sign that said Good Luck! Celaena got up close with Lisle clung next to her. Drummers pounded their drums, with a few dancers danced by in a line and a sign appeared with black letters. It was the same thing every year, so she didn't really pay attention to it.
~You've been rejected
And now you can't find
What you left behind~
Reyna Candon-District 3 Escort
Reyna forced herself to smile, but she couldn't bring herself to even smile. All she wanted was to curl up and die. It was one of those days where she literally had to peel herself from her bed to even get to the train station on time, and even than it was pushing it. She didn't know why she existed anyways. Besides she was a mistake, and everyone probably already knew that.
"Why aren't you smiling? You're supposed to be happy," someone chided which pissed her off. It was probably one of those bitches who believed in sunshine and rainbows all the time. As if she would be explain it. It was like there was like a block that she couldn't openly talk about her emotions and she hated it. She wanted to scream and say how she felt, but all she could was to utter, "I'm fine."
Reyna shrugged it off and turned to her attention to her bandaged wrist. Last night, she had to visit the hospital after cutting to deeply, though she was surprised that she didn't bleed out from the gaping cut in her wrist. Perhaps, there was still some part of her that was holding onto for dear life and she wasn't all ready to die? That just sounded absurd. He family and friends abandoned her and she was pretty damn sure they wouldn't care if she killed herself. She wished that she would be able to cover it up, but somehow her outfit didn't have long-sleeves like she requested, but short ones that showed all her cuts and scars.
Reyna let her thoughts drift her away, she thought of how Panem would react if they found out an escort was dead. Probably won't even fuss. It wasn't like anyone would care enough if she died.
"Miss Candon? You're supposed to be out there in fifteen seconds," someone told her. Reyna sighed and walked slowly to the doors. She took a seat right next to the Mentor who only rolled her eyes and looked to where the audience was. Smile. Reyna forced herself to smile, to play the part. She was an actor, possibly a very good one with all the lies she told to everyone, but she didn't like acting.
Reyna sighed as she walked to where the Mayor was standing at, never letting her forced smile fade the entire time. She only had to keep this facade up for a few more minutes before she escorted the tributes inside and wait for them once they all said goodbye to everyone. She found it a very boring thing to do, but it left her alone with all her depressing thoughts; which she was grateful for even if she was scared to be alone.
"Thank you. My name is Reyna Candon, though you probably already know me, but it's protocol. Um, we have a video than see who the tributes would be this year." She hated of how depressing it sounded and probably acted like she was a snotty bitch who had money and was above everyone. Gods, of how that wasn't the truth, but she couldn't bring herself to say anything enthusiastic. That required energy which she lacked, besides it didn't seem like she ever had energy.
The video blared on, which she didn't even notice. She kept staring at the stoic crowd, especially the young ones specifically. She always hated when she reaped a twelve, thirteen or fourteen-year-olds; she considered them young ones who didn't deserve to die. She shifted her thoughts to the task in front of her, she didn't even remember when she walked to the Reaping bowls, but she didn't care.
Reyna dipped her hand into the bowl on the right: the females. She grabbed one and pulled it out. She read it loudly, "Veronica Alder!"
A small gasp was heard from the fourteen-year-old section, but the seventeen-year-old group shifted to let the girl through after a minute passed. The girl was tall, possibly taller than she as. The girl-Veronica walked with her eyes on the stage, possibly determined to survive. Reyna brought herself to the left side of where the boys names lied. She grabbed a white slip and spoke,
"Breccaan Herschel!"
Another seventeen-year-old walked out, but this one was different. He had a white cane with the bottom tip painted red, as he walked down the aisle. Reyna pitied him, since she assumed he was blind and that made factors even worse for him. He stopped at the staircase, and someone guided him up gently, she smiled truly at that form of kindness.
Reyna looked towards the audience and cried, "Our tributes for this year's Hunger Games- Breccan Herschel and Veronica Alder!"
She took them in the back, letting her facade drop. Thee peacekeepers took them in separate rooms and now this was a waiting game.
~Let me be apart of it all
Share your dreams with me
You may be right, you may be wrong~
Breccaan Herschel (17), District 3
Breccaan was guided by someone, possibly a peacekeeper into the room where his cane clanked when it hit an object. He felt around and felt like a chair, so he sat down while he waited for people to show up, and say goodbye to him. He didn't know what was going to happen to him, and he probably wouldn't make it until the end of the bloodbath, but he refused to even think that. He could get out alive, right? Besides, not all hope was lost, and there was a glimmer of a chance he could win even with his disadvantage.
The door opened, and he heard a footsteps heading towards his direction, quite a bit of them. His family shown up!
"I was surprised to see you reaped. I really hope you could make it back alive," spoken mother. He bit his lip while trying to keep his tears under control. He didn't want to seem like he was crying, but it was hard to keep from being emotional. His family was his life. Breccan spent most of his life with them, right after he became blind to adjust and help around, even after he gotten a job at one of the factories. "I have something for you in case they don't allow you your cane."
Breccaan held out his hand, and something silk was felt. It was a small piece of his grandmother's dress that she used to wear before she passed away. He stuffed it into his pocket, and smiled gently.
"I hope so too," he said. "Xavier, please keep out of trouble." Xavier was his little brother, and he usually brought home gossip which Breccaan would be eager to listen; but Breccaan was afraid that Xavier would get himself in trouble, and something bad was going to happen to him.
"I could always ask if someone else could be in your place," Felicity said optimistically. "I don't think it's right to send a blind person to his death."
"Felicity, you know you can't," father whispered to his youngest daughter. "We just have to hope for the best."
There was a pregnant pause in the air which remained until Madison, his other sister, spoke. He almost forgotten that she was there. Breccaan would probably miss her the most as she did tutor him the best she could right after she got home from training as a teacher.
"Remember the odds of winning. Despite it low, and you're at a disadvantage. You could probably beat them."
The peacekeeper opened the door, and Mom spoke loudly while she walked away, "We love you!" Then the door slammed shut, leaving him alone sitting in the chair.
A few minutes passed before the door opened. There was a single person, and he assumed it was Emilia, since he didn't socialize with anyone much besides his family.
"I see that flower didn't get you good luck. I'm going to miss you. You'll come home hopefully," Emilia admitted. She let out a sob which Breccaan felt horrible about. He shouldn't be in this kind of position, but he was. He wanted to tell her that he had a crush on him, but he couldn't bring himself to it.
"I'm going to miss you," he said, wiping some tears that were trickling down his face.
"Miss you too. I should probably get going before they kick me out," she said. He heard her footsteps fading and the door creaked open then slammed shut, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
~I could curl up and hide in my room
There in my bed, still sobbing tomorrow
I could give in to all of the gloom~
Veronica Alder (17), District 3
Veronica looked at the mahogany door that had a noticeable crack to it. It needed to be fixed and possibly a new paint job to go with it. She didn't know what was taking Nanette and Uncle Donovan to show up and say goodbye to her. She should be able to make it home, and she also kinda pitied her district partner of being blind. She knew it wasn't his fault, but he probably could die in the bloodbath because of his disability.
The mahogany door slammed open and Nanette with her short frame appeared with her worried Uncle right behind Nanette. Nanette's eyes were bloodshot and her eyelashes glimmered with fresh tears streaking down her cheeks. Veronica was going to miss them both. These were the people that raised her.
"I thought you were safe!" sobbed Nanette as she clung to Veronica's clothes. Veronica wrapped her arms around her, and whispered to her gently,
"It's going to be okay. I'll come back."
Veronica peeled Nanette off her, and Veronica walked over to Uncle Donovan who had bags underneath his eyes. He probably just got off work from working a graveyard shift once again. He told her, "I'm going to miss you. I don't think I could live with myself if you die also! First your parents, then my wife and soon to be you, if you don't come back." He let out something that sounded eerily like a sob. He handed her something which Veronica took. It was her journal and she smiled.
"I'll come back. I love you both," she said to them, once the three minutes were up. The door slammed shut and Veronica looked down at her feet, already knowing that no one else was going to visit her. She didn't have any friends, and she only considered Nanette as her friend, so she was left alone.
Almost 2 months without an update, dang. I actually didn't start working on this in late June. Depression kicked in and out, so that's tough. My spacebar on my physical keyboard broke so I have to use the screen to put a space so I can't type as fast as I could. What did you think of these 2 tributes? I'll see you next time!
Also, the district 9 spots opened up because of some circumstances.