District 8 female – Gabrielle Buiton, 14
That afternoon at the black market, my family ended up selling every last piece of gold that was stolen from the mayor's place and made quite a fortune. My brothers and parents were all extremely proud of our success, but I couldn't stop the feeling of guilt that always settled into me after a session at the black market.
Sure, I loved my family, but I often felt like I was a complete outcast from them. I was the only one in the family who wasn't overly enthusiastic about the whole stealing thing.
But the problem with it was that it made me an outcast outside of my family, at school. No one had explicit proof that I was in a family of criminals, but everyone knew that I was. It wasn't the best feeling, having everyone hate you simply because of your family.
But I didn't care. Not really. I didn't care about dressing up nice and being popular, anyway. I had my two best friends, Carly and Genna, and that was enough for me.
The twist to the Quarter Quell was announced the next morning, and then afterwards Charles announced that he and Paul were going to hang out with some of their friends. I knew Cyrus was going to be there, and wanted to go with them, but Charles said no.
"Please?" I begged him, but he shook his head.
"You're too young, Gabrielle," he said. "Why don't you go over to your own friend's place?"
I frowned at him, but he just shrugged at me before leaving the house, followed closely by Paul. I just sighed, before pulling on my shoes to go over to Genna's place. I knew she wouldn't be happy with the twist of the Quell, being that each tribute would be voted in by their own district, so I thought I should check up on her.
As I walked to Genna's house, my mind became preoccupied with the twist to the Quarter Quell. It was a cruel and twisted game orchestrated by the Capitol, and this year's twist made it even more sinister. Each district would now have to vote for their own tributes, putting friends, neighbours, and possibly even family members against each other. It was a heartbreaking realisation that the Capitol would stop at nothing to assert its power and manipulate our lives.
I reached Genna's doorstep and knocked on the door, my thoughts racing with anxiety and concern for my friend. The door swung open, and Genna's face, which was often angry, looked even angrier than ever. Without saying a word, she pulled me into a tight embrace, and I hugged her back, feeling the weight of my fear, and her anger.
"Gabrielle, did you hear about the twist?" Genna's voice trembled slightly, her eyes searching mine for answers.
I nodded, my voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah, it's... it's terrifying, Genna. I can't imagine what it must be like for everyone in our district. The Capitol wants to tear us apart."
Genna pulled away, her eyes welling up with angry tears. "I can't bear the thought of losing someone I care about. It's not fair, Gabrielle. We shouldn't have to go through this. The system is absolutely broken. Worse than even I imagined."
"I know, Genna," I said softly, trying to sound kind. The truth was, I didn't really care about this twist. I knew it wouldn't affect me or my friends. But Genna was obviously extremely mad and upset about it. "We have to stay strong. We can't let the Capitol break us. We'll find a way to protect each other, no matter what."
"Yeah, alright," said Genna, not uncrossing her arms. "It really is an awful system, though. I will do something about it."
"I know, Genna," I said. "I know..."
The voting for the tributes opened the following morning, so I went down to the town centre with my family, intending on just voting randomly. But then I saw Cyrus there.
With his girlfriend.
Lowise Prescott was a girl who was eighteen years old, extremely beautiful, and extremely kind. Everyone in the district loved her. Except for me. She and Cyrus had been together since they were in school, and everyone in the district considered them a great couple. But I hated Lowise because she was with Cyrus. I wished Cyrus would be with me.
So, without thinking, I wrote down Lowise's name as the female tribute, and some random boy as the male tribute, then walked back home with my brothers.
The guilt settled in as soon as I got home. Had I really just voted for a girl to die just because she was dating my crush? Maybe if Lowise was dead, Cyrus would realise that I could be more to him than just his best friend's sister.
But what if Lowise was put in the Hunger Games because of me? Did I cause her death just for a petty reason? I felt tears coming to my eyes at the thought of this. I really was an awful person. I was already a thief, and now I'd done this.
But it was OK because everyone else liked Lowise. So, no one else would vote for her, therefore I wouldn't have caused her death. OK. Everything would be fine.
The reaping day was a week later, and while a lot of teens dressed up in their nicest clothes, I simply put on some plain black trousers and a simple white T-shirt. I couldn't be bothered to dress up elegantly, nor did I like that.
I got in line with the other girls my age, a lot of which were dressed up in the nicest dresses they owned, mostly passed down from their mothers, who wore them in the dark days, before the Hunger Games were even a thing.
I was glad that I ended up next to Carly instead of Genna because from what I could see of Genna, standing on the other side of Carly, is that she was fuming. She always was on reaping day.
The escort was some bubbly person from the Capitol who I knew I would not get along with at all. They wore makeup so cakey that I could not even see their actual face, and they were way too enthusiastic for my liking. They even told us the history of Panem and the Hunger Games with enthusiasm. It made me want to throw up.
"Alright... ladies first!" they said cheerfully after they were done giving the history of the Hunger Games. "The female tribute for the 25th Hunger Games... from district eight... is Gabrielle Buiton."
Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.
I cried.
Tears slowly rolled down my cheeks as I made my way to the stage. My legs felt like lead and my heartbeat was like a drum it was so loud. How had I been chosen?
But I knew why. It was because of my family's criminal activities. I was the only one in the family young enough to go into the Hunger Games, so the district had chosen me because of that. So now, I was going into the deadliest games that had ever been invented. I was terrified.
The male tribute was then announced as Patch Corvin. I recognised him as he walked onto the stage. They also sold things on the black market. Drugs. Although Patch was a lot older than me and worked with a friend instead of family. And he didn't cry as they walked onto the stage like I did.
Once Patch was on the stage, we shook hands, and then I was taken behind the stage into a goodbye room. As soon as I was in there my entire family came in to see me. I could tell that they were all definitely extremely worried for me, but they at least pretended to think that I'd come back home.
"Don't die in the bloodbath," André said to me. "It's where the majority of the deaths happen, and if you can survive that, you have a much higher chance of winning."
"OK..." I breathed.
After my family left, Carly and Genna came in to see me. Genna was furious, of course. Going on about the unfair system, and all that, but at least Carly gave me a hug and told me it would be OK.
Then, to my surprise, Cyrus came in to see me. Just Cyrus, not accompanied by any friends or his girlfriend.
"Gabrielle, I know there are going to be strong tributes in there. Older, bigger, and more willing to kill. But you are strong. You will win. I believe in you." Cyrus kissed me softly on the cheek, and I felt myself blush. "You're like a little sister to me, Gabrielle. I need you to come back."
"Thank you," I said, smiling at him.
But my heart felt like it was being torn apart.
District 8 male – Patch Corvin, 18
"How much money did you make yesterday afternoon?" Burton asked me after we served our first customer of the day.
"About a thousand, so five hundred each for Calico and I," I said.
"Damn, pretty impressive, then," said Burton. "You know we'll make more today, yeah?"
I nodded, but I wasn't really listening. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see two peacekeepers. The peacekeepers knew about the black market in district eight, but for the most part, didn't have too big of a problem with it because they knew they couldn't stop it. But for some reason, they all hated me in particular, probably because I was the best dealer in the district who made the most money. And now, the two on duty were staring dead at me.
"What are you looking at?" Burton asked me, following my gaze. "Ah, peacekeepers. They don't look too happy, do they?"
"Yeah, no, they don't," I said. "What are they going to do, though. It's a Saturday morning, it's not like we're here in the middle of the night."
"They're actually more relaxed at night," Burton told me. "None of them want to work the night shift. God, they're really not loving us, are they? Keep your head down."
"Never," I said, lifting my arm and waving at the peacekeepers, which just seemed to piss them off even more, which made me laugh. But seeing my laugh was just the last straw for them. Before I knew it, the two peacekeepers were storming over to Burton's stall.
"Corvin," one of them said sharply once they were close enough for me to hear them.
"God, Tom, are we not on a first name basis yet?" I asked.
"My name is not Tom," he snapped.
"God, I don't know, you all look the same in those uniforms," I shrugged. "Anyway, what's the issue?"
"You know selling that stuff is illegal," he said.
"And the rest of the people selling at this place are absolutely fine?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"They're not making an entire living off of other people's addictions!" the other peacekeeper cried.
"OK, well, what are you going to do, arrest me?" I asked.
"Oh, don't worry, we have a better plan to get rid of you," the first peacekeeper grinned, and I raised my other eyebrow.
"Oh yeah, what's your brilliant plan?" I asked.
"Just wait, Corvin," he said, "Just you wait."
I sold at the black market every day that week, excluding Monday, because I never worked Mondays, it was my day off. And I didn't even get to relax. I just had to get schoolwork done (which meant doing the bare minimum for about five minutes right after school), then spend the rest of the afternoon caring for whichever parent I was staying with that week.
On Friday, the day before reaping day, I noticed the peacekeepers were watching me once again as if I was doing something wrong. Well, obviously I was doing something wrong. It was illegal to sell drugs. But they just hated me more than every other seller at the market.
"You know those peacekeepers hate you?" Calico said to me, looking over at the peacekeepers.
"Really? Hadn't noticed," I said.
"No, but they've threatened everyone in the District to vote for you," she said. "As in, vote for you to go into the Quarter Quell."
"What?"
"Yeah... you're going into the Hunger Games," she said. "It's because you're so aggressive with the difficult customers. They don't want to deal with you anymore, so they threatened to take away the tesserae of people who didn't vote for you..."
I scowled. "Well, great."
The reaping day was the next morning, and I was staying at my mum's place, changing over that afternoon. However, if I was supposedly going into the Hunger Games, I wouldn't be changing over. I'd be getting on a train and going to the Capitol.
I dressed into an oversized grey hoodie, baggy jeans, and sneakers that morning before supporting my mum out of her bed so we could go into the town centre together. She was not in a good state at all.
I sometimes did feel bad about my parents' drug addictions. They were both so addicted and yet I was still selling the thing that was killing them to other people, ruining other people's lives. It was a horrible thing to do, but I needed the money.
I arrived at the town centre with my mother and led her to the section where those who weren't eligible to be voted into the Games stood, then walked over to the crowd of teenage boys on my own. I looked over to where the girls were, and Calico was frowning at me. I looked back to the front, where the District 8 escort was making their way onto the stage.
I always found the Capitol makeup quite ridiculous and found myself chuckling at the sight of it on this escort, despite how dire the situation of the reaping was.
They gave us a long history of Panem and the Hunger Games and all the boring stuff that everyone already knew, before finally, finally, looking down at the tablet thing that would show them the names of those who had been voted into the Games.
Perhaps the peacekeepers had threatened everyone to vote for Calico, as well. Perhaps she would be going to the Games with me. We'd make a good team, but at the end, when it was just the two of us... I couldn't kill her. I'd be OK with killing random kids so I could win, but Calico was my best friend. I couldn't kill her.
Thankfully, I would never have to deal with that problem, because the girl voted into the Games was a young girl named Gabrielle Buiton. I saw her at the black markets quite often, because her family were all thieves who sold there.
She looked terrified as she walked onto the stage, though, and I couldn't help feeling a little bad for her. As far as I knew, she was only thirteen or fourteen years old.
"Alright, now... time for the male tribute," said the escort, looking back down at the tablet. "The male tribute from district eight is Patch Corvin!"
I sneered, then made my way up to the stage. Once I was on the stage, I spat out at the audience. I wished I could spit right in the faces of those peacekeepers.
I shook Gabrielle's hand, then made my way behind the stage into some goodbye room, so my friends and family could come and say goodbye to me.
To my surprise, both of my parents came into the room, together. I walked over to them as soon as they came into the room, but before they could say anything to me, my dad passed out, and then my mum passed out at the sight of my dad passing out.
I bit the inside of my gum as they were both helped back to their feet and escorted out of the room. God, they both needed to stop taking drugs. Calico came in then and wrapped her arms around me.
"Good luck, Patch," she said, her tone bright. "I know you'll come back. Burton and I will keep the business going and... good luck in the arena. I'll be rooting for you."
"Thanks, Calico," I grinned. "I'll see you soon."
Would I, though?
A/N: I just have to say... the fact that I have to kill 23 of these tributes is actually breaking my heart. I am getting very attached to all of them.
Anyway, enjoy your week.