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Chapter II The Reapings Part 2
District 3
It was always nice when her parents visited, but honestly they could be so annoying at times.
Penelope Fitzpatrick's parents milled about behind her, looking at her with worry that made her skin absolutely crawl with annoyance. Why did they have to be like this sometimes? Such worry warts. And they were distracting her from the gorgeous view out her window into the courtyard below.
"Poe, honey, don't you think it's time to put on your Reaping dress?" Her father asked. Simon Fitzpatrick, a middle aged shopkeep, had always doted on her. Poe really was daddy's little princess, it was true. Everyone told her she'd one day tire of that nickname, but as she grew older, Poe found herself enjoying the phrase more and more. Why shouldn't she be treated well by her father? Wasn't that what men were suppose to do. It took some effort, but Poe tore her sights from the window and flashed her father her most innocent, endearing smile.
"But daaaaaaddy. Just a few more minutes." She cried, eyes gleaming with just the hint of tears. She had perfected the action when she eight and knew it would always make boys do what she wanted. They always seemed so out of sorts when she did! Of course, it didn't work on girls. One mean girl from school had rudely told her beautiful brown eyes looked like "pools of muddy water" when she did it and that "no one would buy the innocent girl act" with her "freckled nose, plump, dry lips, and greasy hair."
Honestly, girls could be soooo jealous, Poe thought.
"We just gave you five minutes, Penelope. The bus for the Reapings is leaving soon." Her mother, Begonia, answered. Her mother could be so demanding. "Come, lets get you dressed before the guards come back."
Huffing angrily, Poe relented and got off the windowsill, humming and skipping to her new dress. Her parents always got her the nicest things. Of course they could afford it running District 3's only flower shop. They actually made good money off the snobs who liked to think they were Capitiolites, because where else was someone could to find natural beauty in the steel and concrete world of District 3? It's smog filled air from the factories had a habit of killing plant life, and the only thing that seemed to flourish were mushrooms and the roaches.
Her dress wasn't too shabby, she supposed. It was obliviously a step up from what they made her wear now. District 3 was a world without much color, so what passed for "standing out" color wise was shades of silver and white. A chrome colored dress lay draped over her table, freshly bought and tailored. And its shoulders were so poofy they reminded Poe of some delicious looking treat she'd seen Capitol citizens eating on TV. Marshmallows, that's what they were called!
A privacy screen had been provided for Poe, and she slid behind it to dress. "Can we go to the Reaping Festival after? I'd love to buy something for Plasmic."
"Who is Plasmic, dear?" Her mother asked. Poe rolled her eyes. She could already hear the worry creeping into her mother's voice.
"He's just a friend, mother." She assured her. "He's in the East Wing dorms and I see him every other lunch day. I don't know much about, but he's got such beautiful, brown skin and wavy hair. He looks a bit like Omar, but Omar is so much more dreamy. And his skin looks like chocolate. And I like curly hair, not wavy." She giggled to herself, an image of Omar flashing in her mind. Dark skin, amber eyes, and curly dark brown hair that just begged for someone to run their hands through it, which of course she had. When she was fifteen Omar fallen asleep at school after working the night shift at the factory. So when no one was looking, Poe actually had touched his hair. She spent the rest of her day gittery and delighted at their first time touch.
"Sweetie, you know you shouldn't be thinking about Omar." Her dad said. Now he sounded worried. Great.
"I promise I'm not." She lied, pulling the zipper up on her dress. She wish they gave her a mirror to look at herself, but breakable glass wasn't allowed near them. Stupid rules. Happily, she jumped out from behind the curtain, flashing a bright smile. "Ta da! How do I look?"
"Amazing!" Her father smiled.
"Wonderful." Her mother stated, looking a bit sad.
"What's wrong mother?" Poe asked. "Is it the Reaping? Everything will be fine! My name is only in that bowl like, what, seven times? I've never even taken out tessera! It'll be fine."
"I… thank you, Penelope. I appreciate that."
"Beside, even if I am Reaped, I bet Omar will come and save me."
With that thought, she bounced back over to the windowsill and looked down into the courtyard, watching the boys mingle outside during their free time. Her back to her parents, she completely missed the look of dread between them. A knock on the door interrupted them.
"Visitings over." A woman announced, voice stern and uncompromising. "Time to go, Fitzpatrick."
Poe rolled her eyes. "Fiiiiine." She huffed. She wished it was a male guard who was accompanying her, but they never let her be near boys for long.
Which reminded her.
"Ooh!" She squealed to her parents. "Meet me after the Reaping so we can get Plasmic a gift! He looks like he's been really down lately. He refuses to make eye contact with me anymore. But I guess boys can be moody like that."
And with that, she sauntered out of the visiting room, humming to herself as she thought about what Plasmic would like as a gift and hoping she'd see Omar at the Reaping.
As District 3 was truly just one massive city, most families lived in tenant housing. The well off could afford to give each of their children their own bedroom, but for everyone else with multiple kids it was shared living space until they moved out or married into another family.
For Eddington Kotlin's family they were more so in the former. Not that space was an issue as he had no siblings. There was Twyla though, who Eddie considered family and had been living with them for three years, but generally that meant coming home from an night shift at the factory he could retreat into his room to decompress. It had been a hard, arduous morning of tedium as he worked the assembly line and he was eager to be home and move on with his day.
Even if today was the dreaded Reapings.
Eddie closed the front door quietly behind him, peering through the dark apartment and noticing that nobody was up yet. His father, who worked twelve hour shifts most days, was no doubt asleep, having worked a similar night shift as Eddie. His mother would be asleep as well.
Or so he thought.
"Eddie, where have you been?"
A light in the living room turned on, illuminating his mother Scala and her worried face. Eddie's eyes darted around, looking for Tywla, but catching no sight of her. His mother must have had the caretaker leave her in the seat for the night so that she could catch her son returning.
"Just a morning walk." He lied. His mother frowned. Her son was never a very good liar.
"It must have been a very long walk then." She replied evenly.
Sighing, Eddie folded immediately. "I was working a shift." He confessed.
"Why? You had last night off?"
"I did! But Lumin asked if I could fill in. He even let me take half his paycheck for covering! His mom was super worried about the Reapings today and Lumin said she gets crazy when she's like that! He said he didn't want his mom to be like that and she made him spend the night at home, just in case he got Reaped!"
Scala just sighed, exasperated with her son. "Sweetie… Lumin asked you to cover for him?"
"Yes!"
"And still wanted half the paycheck?"
"Well… yes. Of course. It's his job after all."
"Come here, sweetie. I want to hug you." Scala said, stretching her hand out. Eddie complied, taking hold of her hand and sliding into the well worn seat next to her. At 5'11" he was a tall for his age, but his mother pulled herself to the side so he could squeeze next to her. As he did, she took him into a hug and kissed him gently on the forehead. "Eddie, Lumin tricked you into working."
"He wouldn't do that." Eddie replied.
Scala, more wary, shook her head. "He might. I know Lumin's mother. The only thing she's worried about is where her next bottle is coming from. And he made you give up half the pay check?"
"Well… yes." Eddie said, feeling sheepish. He suddenly remembered that everyone at school made fun of Lumin for his mom.
"Did you have to leave his half at the factory?"
"No. He came and got it when the shift ended."
"So his mom let him out of her sight to get the check then?"
A silence. "Oh…" Eddie said finally. He felt like a fool. This wasn't the first time he'd been tricked.
"Eddie, my sweetheart, you're too trusting. You're fourteen. You should know better." His mother consoled, holding him tightly.
"I-I just wanted to help him.'
"I know sweetie."
"And us."
"I know that too." His mother said, giving him another kiss. "But you don't need to take up extra shifts for us. Your father has been doing well and we're doing ok. And I don't like you working the nights either. You know as well as I do that the medics don't work nights."
Eddie nodded gravely. His mother had been working a night shift when she was injured. It had paralyzed her from the waist down, upending their entire family. His father had to take extra shifts to support them, and Eddie spent most of his youth at home looking after his mother. Three years ago his father got a big promotion, which gave them enough income for some breathing room and to hire a live-in caretaker for his mother. Tywla had been with them ever since and his mother now insisted he get to have a "normal" childhood.
He really hoped he wasn't letting her down.
"Ok, I promise I won't do that again." Eddie said. "And that I won't trust Lumin."
His mother laughed, "Ok sweetheart." She said. "I love you."
"I love you too." Eddie replied. They stayed cuddle on the seat for a while, and before long both had drifted off into sleep, if only for a few hours until the Reapings.
The bus ride to the Reaping was dreadfully dull. Poe and forty something girls had been crammed into outdated vehicle and forced to wear shackles, which jingled violently and loudly whenever they hit a bump, crack, or pothole in the road.
And District 3 had a lot of those.
When they finally got to the Justice Building where the Reapings were held, Poe was eager to stretch her legs. As she exited the bus, she couldn't help but feel dully that District 3 was truly just an ugly mess of a place. Grey, drab, and everything always seemed to be wet. Today was no exception, but at least the smog wasn't too bad. You could even make out a few rays of sunlight.
"Move it. Stay in line and don't break off." One of the guards said, hand on a baton. Poe rolled her eyes. These guards like to act tough but she thought she could take them. Still, it was kind of nice being led by them. It made her feel special and important as her and the other girls were marched to the Reaping check in, bypassing the enormous line of girls and boys Reaping age who had to wait to be checked in. Poe remembered the year of her third Reaping had been absolutely awful as she had to wait four hours in an unnaturally hot and muggy day. By the time she was in her section for the Reapiing her clothes had been absolutely ruined and drenched in sweat.
Now she got to bypass them all. That was kind of nice at least.
Check in was swift. A Peacekeeper let their group cut ahead and he exchanged some words with the guard and nodded gruffly. Poe oogled him, lips pursed in disappointment. He was a fairly ugly man, with fat lips, terrible stubble, and sweat stains across his white Peacekeeper uniform. Without much care, he grabbed the hands of each of the girls, stabbed their finger, and made them bleed over a scanner. A face would pop up on a screen next to him and, once he confirmed it was the same person before him, he would nod and they'd be in.
Poe grimaced at the pain when he pricked her finger. Her blood was scanned and her DNA and identity confirmed. She saw her face pop up on the screen next to him, bright red letters underneath her face and name.
JUVENILE CONVICT
"Next!" The man barked, waving her away.
"How rude…" Poe muttered, sticking her pricked finger in her mouth to stop the bleeding.
Once all the girls were scanned, the Peacekeepers waved them through and went back to the regular line. The guards led them onto the Reaping field, set up just in front of the Justice Building, as it was for all Districts. The guards turned to them and gave them her most severe look.
"We aren't allowed to stay with you girls, but don't worry, the Peacekeepers in there will keep an eye on you. So behave. You'll find they're a lot less… cordial than us. Since you're all convicts, you'll be in the front. Stay in line, keep your mouths shut, and this will all be over soon."
Most of the District was already assembled when they entered, so they wouldn't have to wait long. Most of the other kids stared at them, eyeing them suspiciously and whispering amongst themselves. Poe didn't care too much, but as they passed by the seventeen year old section – where she was supposed to be – she caught a glimpse of an enemy.
Evangeline Gauss, that harpy, was standing with a few other girls, huddled together and eyeing her. One of her lackeys, that flat chested Miriam Bishop, glared at her angrily. Evangeline only looked fearful when their eyes met and she immediately looked away. Poe smirked. At least Evangeline seemed to have learned her lesson.
But where was Omar? The Peacekeepers didn't let her hover around the boys section to look for him. Ah well. He'd probably find her after the Reapings were done. Nothing would keep them apart.
It was a dull wait at the front and rather annoying that the Peacekeepers never took their eyes off them. Behind their tinted helmed faces, Poe couldn't tell if they were guys or girls. Probably guys. For whatever reason most Peacekeepers seemed to be boys. Some days she thought about falling in love with one, a big, strapping man in uniform with a pretty smile and arms that could hold her tight. They'd kiss and make love and laugh at the world, and he'd take her away from District 3 and move to District 2 or the Capitol and spend the rest of their lives deliriously happy and they would never, ever have to see dirty District 3 ever again.
Poe suddenly started to giggle at the fantasy. A Peacekeeper turned his head to her, but said nothing. She just waved at him.
The Reapings finally began half an hour after her arrival. District 3's mayor took the stage, looking haggard and grey as usual. Poe always thought he seemed more a skeleton than a human, and each year the lines on his face grew deeper and his hair grew thinner. He walked with a cane to the microphone, voice scraggly and tired as he read through the Treaty of Treason, announcing all the evils the Districts had inflicted upon the Capitol during the Dark Days, the subsequent annihilation of District 13, and the creation of the Hunger Games. When he finished, the Escort came to the microphone. She was dressed in a brilliant golden dress and, this close to the stage, Poe could even see that she had some sort of gold dust makeup on and diamonds tied up throughout her hair.
"Happy Hunger Games!" She announced with a brilliant smile, showing off teeth that were dyed gold as well. "Well… let's have at it! Why don't we shake things up this year and draw the boys firs?. Wouldn't that be exciting?"
No response form the sullen crowd, but that didn't stop the escort from enjoying herself. She moved quickly to the massive bowl, filled with sheets of papers with the names of District citizens. With an excited squeak, she stuck her hand in, gave a dramatic show of rummaging around for a while before, with a triumphant shout, pulling a name out.
"How exciting, everyone ready?" She announced with glee. She cracked the seal on the paper and unrolled it. It was deathly silent over the boys section as she did so, every face filled with consternation and dread. Poe was amongst them.
'Not Omar. Please, please, please not Omar!'
"Eddington Kotlin!"
'Oh, thank goodness!'
There were many sighs of relief from the boys section, followed by searching glances as they tried to locate the unfortunate boy. Eventually, there was a lot of shuffling in the fourteen year old section and a boy emerged, face pale white in shock and eyes wet with tears. The Peacekeepers moved quickly and were soon moving him to the stage.
Poe gave him a good look over. Too young for her, and pretty plain looking to boot with his brown hair and eyes. His skin was a caramel pretty though, and Poe thought he was pretty tall for a fourteen year old, maybe almost 6'. And he was kind of muscly. She never thought muscles were a bad thing.
When he got to the stage's stairs,, Eddington's legs seemed to stop. The Escort was there though, practically dragging him up the steps. They eventually returned to the microphone and the Escort shoved it in front of him. "You're Eddington Kotlin, correct?"
"Y-yes, ma'am." He replied, voice as shaky as the Mayor's. "B-b-but every-everyone calls me Eddie."
"Eddie! How delightful! And so respectful too!" The Escort compliment. "Manners are always important, I say. Now, how about the girls?"
She left the thunderstruck Eddie by the microphone and sauntered over the girl's bowl. She pulled a slip of paper quickly, unsealed as she walked back to the microphone, and enunciated each syllable of the name with some flourish into the microphone.
"Penelope Fitzpatrick!"
Being in the front, the Peacekeepers were on her immediately, dragging her onto the stage and putting her next to the microphone while Poe was still reeling from the news. They couldn't have called her name. There must have been some sort of mistake! The Escort was saying something but she couldn't hear.. Poe just gaped at her in shock. Next to the Escort, Eddie looked quite nervous. Poe realized that the Peacekeepers hadn't actually left the stage and were hovering around her.
"My dear, can you please confirm your name." The Escort said again.
Poe swallowed hard. "Poe." She breathed.
"I'm sorry? Is that a nickname?"
"Yes."
"Oh… well, isn't that interesting one."
"What is that suppose to mean?"
Poe guessed she asked that with quite the tone, because the Peacekeepers had a hand on her and were giving a signal to wrap things up.
"Well… that was certainly rude of you. Ladies and gentlemen, your two tributes for the 58th Hunger Games: Eddie Kotlin and Poe Fitzpatrick!"
No cheers followed them as the Peacekeepers grabbed Eddie and her and dragged both off stage and to their unknown futures.
DISTRICT 4
District 4 was a district defined by its oceans. When Panem thought of it, images of full nets of fish, crystal blue waters and sandy beaches sprung to mind.
For Cean Fischer, who actually lived there, it was a bit different.
Like most citizens of the district, Cean didn't live far from the ocean, but his view of it was far from the picturesque beaches and luxury that Capitolites imagined. His family lived in a little hovel by the docks, a four room shack made of driftwood and rusted sheet metal from the hulls of decommissioned ships. The area always reeked of fish, which were hulled to shore every morning, gutted, frozen for transporting, and the carcasses thrown into the ocean. His father had worked such a job, and Cean did for a while too, until one too many close calls and he had adamantly refused to return to the sea and its treacherous waters and unknowable dark, watery depths.
He wouldn't be able to escape the sea forever. There were precious few job opportunities in the District that didn't revolve around it and the Fischer family didn't have the money to be picky, or for Cean to stay out of work for long.
'But I guess surviving a storm and capsized ship buys you some sympathy.' He thought. He was sitting outside his home, watching the shoreline and the incoming ships, eating the last bits of his breakfast. His mom could cook anything, he thought, as she even managed to make the turned sour mussels good.
A few children ran past, laughing and in good humor as they raced to the docks to greet the incoming fishermen. Cean remembered being like that, with his sister Gulla and others. Both of them had rushed to the docks to greet parents who were returning from a long haul, eager to see what they had caught. His father would also bring back some sort of gift for them too, seashells they had gotten caught in the traps and fishing nets they pulled behind the ships. Cean even still had the collections.
The last bits of his father and sister, both of them taken when their ship went down. Cean hadn't even seen them die. They just vanished into the ocean and its unfathomable depths.
A playful knock to his head stirred him from his dark memories. A figure was extending out what passed for a window of their home, a playful smile on her face. "You're up early." Sirena said, hoisting herself through the open window and setting next to him.
"The Reaping." He explained, feeling his body go rigid. "I never sleep well before it."
"Neither do I." Sirena confessed. "But hey, at least we have some training right?"
Cean shrugged, chewing another mussel. "I guess." He replied. District 4 had become a Capitol favorite in the past few years and had the beginnings of a training academy. It wasn't much, and their Tributes were nowhere near as fierce Districts 1 or 2, but they were getting there. Cean and Sirena got some training in school as the Trainers tried to spot talent. Cean wasn't super skilled, but had discovered he did ok with a spear
At least against training dummies, which wasn't saying much.
Sirena remained silent. She knew Cean had these moods. How could he not given all he had been through? Not only was the sinking of the ship his father and sister were on that he survived forever on his mind, he had even tattooed the ship onto his arm, refusing to forget. Sirena knew all about it and heard all the nightmares Cean had about it. And now that their parents were dating, Sirena was committed to making sure he could improve.
Cean remained silent though out of nerves. It was happening more and more recently, but he felt himself grow flustered whenever Sirena was around. Sometimes he'd catch a glimpse of her and just be overwhelmed with… well… feelings…
Which weren't ok at all since his mom was dating her dad and they lived together. They shared a room! It was awkward and made fifteen year old Cean feel even worse.
A horn sounded on the horizon. Then another, and before long a whole chorus of returning fishing ships were sounding off. "They're back." Sirena remarked. "I've got to get down there to help out. We'll catch up later though, yeah?"
Cean nodded and waved at her as she ran off to the docks, trying to ignore how nice her hair looked in the morning light.
Steel rang against steel on the screen before Mara, the two Tributes sweaty, exhausted, and haggard. Mara Bonavich had watched this scene hundreds of times, memorized every little detail and every little mistake made by both parties. One of the Tribute rushed, screaming and slashing wildly, the other dodged easily and countered, her spear slicing through arm.
Next to Mara, her friend tensed up. "Mara…" Jenny whined. "We don't need to watch this today."
"Yes, I do." Mara corrected, giving her a stern look. Jenny, Mara's friend and younger by two years and easily cowed, fell silent and watched the screen reluctantly. Mara returned her attention to the screen, annoyed to have missed a few seconds of the 40th Hunger Games. The scene was of the top eight and the combatants were District 4's male tribute and District 8's female tribute. 4 was losing badly. He hadn't properly rationed and was now paying the price in combat. His bigger muscles counted for less compared to the girl from 8, who had been a dark horse that year and taken out two tributes already. She was a master with the spear, and the commenters loved to liken her killing to "needle work."
And the boy from 4 was getting stitched up very badly.
A jab and a parry. A slash and a bat away. Their duel continued, each second the girl from 8 getting the upper hand. As the boy from 4 stumbled back, she let out a shriek and stabbed out with precision, the spear connecting with flesh. It tore through the boy's shoulder and he stumbled back in pain, dropping his weapon.
Mara's jaw tightened. It was over. The boy was going to die.
"Mara… why are you watching this?"
Mara didn't turn away from the television, eyes fixed on what was coming next. "You know why." She replied. Behind her, a weary sigh from her younger sister.
"Don't let mom see you watching this." Elpis said. Mara heard her shuffle out of the room, annoyed. She didn't need to be told that mom shouldn't watch this. She had lived it so many years ago while pregnant with Mara.
It was coming. The boy was on the ground, breathing heavily and bleeding out. He let out a strained grunt as the girl ripped the the spear from his shoulder. She stood over him, spear raised and her boot firmly on his neck to hold him still. His chest was exposed, the spear angled towards it.
The boy let out out a defiant, choked scream.
The girl stabbed downwards.
And that's how Mara's father died.
Jenny wasn't looking, but Mara refused to take her eyes off the corpse of her dad. She had watched this so many things in her life, a life that had been largely defined by this moment. Her dad had been Reaped before the Academy began in earnest and went into the Games with no training. Before that he had met Mara's mom when they were both eighteen and they fell in love. Then she had gotten pregnant, which they were both deliriously happy about.
Then her dad was Reaped for the 40th Hunger Games, and it was the end of that life together.
Now at eighteen she was set to follow in her dad's footsteps, though unlike her father she wasn't going in without training. When the Academy had first opened, she was one of the first to volunteer. She had five years of training under her belt and was demon with daggers and knives.
And more importantly, unlike her father, she would not lose.
The District 4 Justice Building was made of a beautiful marble with Dorian columns lining the outside. Thus, the Mayor could read of the Treaty of Treason with a beautiful background.
Mara stood on the field before the Building, face made of stone while her nerves were a mess She hoped it didn't show. It was about to happen. Had her dad felt like this before he was Reaped? He hadn't known he would be, but Mara could imagine the anticipation of standing there, unsure if your name would be pulled from the bowl.
At least she looked her best. Her mother and step-father had sprung for a nice turquoise dress with orange seahorses sewn into the hem of it. They had tried to buy a dress with dolphins on it to match the tattoo she had on her cheek, which covered a particularly nasty scar from a fishhook when she was eight, but Mara refused it. Beside that, Mara thought she was a rather pretty girl. Tall, slim and muscled, with blond hair cut short to her shoulders and brown eyes many called "soft."
The Mayor finished reading the Treaty and stepped back, allowing the Escort to begin the Reapings. "Ladies first!" He said with a smile. He stuck a hand in the Reaping bowl, each finger with a ring and valuable gem on them. He pulled the slip out and opened it, his rings clinking against one another as he did so.
"Elpis Bonavich!" He announced.
Mara almost laughed. They had Reaped her sister. Her mom must be having a panic attack.
"I volunteer!" Mara shouted clearly, stepping out from the crowd of eighteen year olds.
She was on the stage shortly, led by a Peacekeeper escort. There were some claps and cheers as the walked, and Mara briefly caught the eye of Elpis, her face inscrutable. Mara took the stage, gazing out over the audience. For a brief moment she could imagine her dad. She looked out, trying to find her mom's face like he must have, but there were too many people and the adults too far away.
The Escort pulled the second name quickly, delighted to hear that Elipis' sister had volunteered. "What a story that wil make!" He remarked as he pulled a name from the boy's bowl. Slip in hand, he unfurled it and read off clearly Mara's partner.
"Cean Fischer!"
Mara didn't know that name. Of course, there were hundreds of Fischer's running around the docks. Cean was unknown to her. From the fifteen year old section, a boy appeared , face blank and sea green eyes downcast. He didn't look totally inept, Mara thought, but she was happy there were other Careers she could join.
Cean took the stage, voice cautious as he answered the Escorts brief questions. Satisfied with the Tributes, the Escort proudly asked them to shake hands. Mara extend her hand first, a show of authority. Cean, cautiously, took her hand and shook, grip soft.
"Just my luck to get Reaped." He muttered, as they were led away into the Justice Building.
Please review with your thoughts! We still need a few tributes if anyone can help!
Up next: Districts 5 and 6