Tullia is already bustling in the kitchen by the time I wake up. Not that it really surprises me; she's always been an early riser. And I can tell she's anxious about the Reaping because she usually lets herself sleep in for another hour. School let out last week and her job has given her the day off, so I know she doesn't have anywhere to be. Must be nice, but hey, money is money and we'll be damned if we're not working.
I join her in the kitchen and she directs me to a plate of hastily made pancakes. "Eat," she commands, so who am I to say no? I quickly scarf down my food and then get ready for work.
"Stay safe!" Tullia calls after me as I strap my helmet to my head, grab my bicycle, and shove it out the door. Thankfully, we only live on the third floor so taking it down the stairs isn't a problem. One of the elevators has been broken for months and I might be late if I wait on the other one.
Once I make it to the street, I hop on and bike as fast as I possibly can. The sooner I finish my route this morning, the sooner I get to go home and eat lunch.
I make my way over to the factory, park my bike, and head inside. Looks like a bunch of us decided to take the day off, which makes me inwardly groan because so much for finishing up early. Now I have to do everyone else's routes as well.
Thankfully, I get paired with Maurie, which makes things more bearable. He's my best work friend. He's always great for a fun conversation or a good shit-talking session where we rag on everyone else, but he actually gets things done.
"Ready to go?" I ask him. He flashes me a thumbs up. We hop on our bikes and pedal down the residential streets of District 6. Each of us takes one side of houses and throws the newspapers from our bags onto the doorsteps. Thump after thump, the rolled up papers bounce off the doors.
I actually don't hate this job. My supervisor is a pretty fair person and the pay isn't too bad. It helps to keep my family afloat, which is all that really matters in the grand scheme. I'm not a very picky person; I'll shovel horse shit if it puts food on the table and a roof over my head.
After finishing several streets, Maurie and I decide to take a break. "You worried about today?" Maurie asks me.
"Meh," I mutter. "No less than last year. Once you got enough slips in there, it stops making much of a difference."
That's true. There's been times when things have gone smoothly, and times when they haven't. Practically everyone I know has entered their names for tessarae rations at least once. Even those who can afford to live in the swanky neighbourhoods have gone through lean years. It's a rite of passage in District 6. Everyone knows the feeling of going to bed hungry, and nobody enjoys it.
"Bummer to be us, then." Maurie laughs bitterly.
Bummer it is, I think.
It takes us a while, but we finish up all the routes and bike back to the newspaper factory to drop off our bags. "See ya tomorrow, Canale!" Maurie calls over his shoulder as he bikes off in one direction and I head in the other.
There's still a couple hours left before we have to be in the District square, more than enough time for me to eat lunch. I head home and carry my bike back up the stairs. Sure enough, Tullia is waiting for me, curled up on the couch with a book.
"Have you left the house at all?" I ask.
Tullia shrugs. "Didn't need to. Don't have work, so I decided to catch up on my reading."
"That's just sad."
Tullia glares at me and I just snort. Score one for Cicero.
"For that, you can make your own lunch."
"Fine by me." I stick my tongue at her, before I'm suddenly hit in the face with a dish towel. Alright, I guess we're even now.
Lunch is a very simple sandwich with some deli meat and cheese. Basically, just throwing together whatever we have left. As I eat, I find myself looking at Mom's door. It hasn't opened since she slammed it shut last night. I have to ask myself if I care that much about Mom getting in trouble for missing the Reaping.
I decide I don't. She's a fully grown woman, she knows what day it is, and she can make her own damn choices. Meaning she can face the consequences of her choices too. I glance over at Tullia who is still engrossed in her book, or maybe pretending to be. I wonder if she's noticed too.
"Are you gonna change?" Tullia asks.
"Meh. Not that sweaty. It'll be fine." It's not a lie. But at the same time, I don't really care enough to look my best for the Reaping. It's so hot outside that I'd rather stand there under the boiling Sun in clothes I know I'll be comfortable in.
"Well, I'm going to change," Tullia announces. I start cleaning up the kitchen as she disappears into her room. Mom's door doesn't open once. She probably isn't even home. I remind myself I'm not supposed to care.
"What do you think?"
I turn around. Tullia is wearing a white dress with a red floral pattern. It's the fanciest thing she owns, so much so that it basically never leaves her closet because she's terrified of it getting dirty. It used to belong to Mom once. I can't recall her ever giving her old clothes to Tullia before, but I'm not a snitch. Fancy outfits are expensive, anyway. Best to hand old things down instead of throwing them out.
"Are you sure?" I ask. "The square's gonna be packed."
Tullia does a little spin. "Yeah, but if I don't wear it now, I'll probably never get the chance to wear it again. Come on, Cici. Don't I look pretty?"
I sigh. She does. It's amazing how little effort Tullia puts into her appearance everyday but she could still be a model if she wanted. Meanwhile to this day I still get mistaken for her despite us looking very, very different. It's gotten beyond infuriating because I am very obviously not a girl but some people still don't get the message. Next time, it won't be a verbal one.
"Yeah," I finally say. "I'm sorry, you look great."
Tullia's eyes sparkle, but then her expression suddenly gives way to sadness as she looks over at Mom's door. "Do you think we should wait for her?"
"She isn't home."
"She left while you were working."
I feel a sense of darkness grow over me. "It's fine. She knows where she has to be and it's not our job to hold her hand. Let's just go or we'll be late."
Tullia nods and follows me out the door without a word. We join the masses headed to the Justice Building. I spot a lot of familiar faces as we walk. Classmates, colleagues, neighbours, or just people I tend to see a lot in my daily life. And yes, all the Peacekeepers too. Whether we like their presence or not.
I take in just how drab the buildings in Six are. Makes them perfect canvases, when I have a chance to pull out my paints without getting caught, but at the same time everything is just so ugly. Would it kill anyone to beautify the place every once in a while? I couldn't even say where our district's funds are going to, or if we even have any at this point.
Maybe that's a project for another time. I miss painting murals, whether I'm being paid to or not. Creativity has always been the perfect outlet for me, allowing me to channel my frusturations and anger into something vivid and beautiful. And it's a lot better for my body than punch a wall.
At the Justice Building, Tullia and I hop into the lineup of teenagers waiting to check in. It doesn't take too long, before we split off into the different age brackets. "Good luck," Tullia tells me before she heads to the 17-year-old section. I just nod in response.
It's so annoyingly hot.
The Reaping is always treated as less of an occasion for District 6 and more of a burden. Why would we ever be excited for it? We never win. We have no Victors. Hell, even District 12 got a win a few years back and we'll be lucky if our tributes even survive to the top half. The mayor just rushes through the Treaty of Treason reading in order to get things over with as soon as possible, which nobody blames her for. Everyone is just dying to head back home and move on with our lives.
She then introduces our Capitol assigned mentor, Gardenia Hopkins. Gardenia makes an attempt to smile at the crowd but it's obvious to everyone that she's faking it. I'm surprised she still sticks around after twenty-six years and no Victors by this point. Probably because she can't get a job elsewhere or something. Anyway, her sadness and bitterness is practically radiating off her and does nothing to lift the mood. Why would she be happy? She's a Capitolite stuck in the slums of Panem. A literal joke of a district.
Our current escort is Gardenia's daughter, Rolanda honestly looks just like a younger version of her mom that it's practically uncanny. Rolanda's grin looks a little more genuine. Give it time, I think. A few more years of nothing, of watching kids die, and she'll become just as jaded as Gardenia and the rest of us.
She reaches into one of the glass bowls and digs around until pulling out a slip she's satisfied with. We all watch with bated breath as Rolanda opens the slip and reads the name written on it.
And everything stops when I hear her voice.
"Tullia Canale!"
Here's the second chapter! And show of hands, who figured that Tullia was gonna be chosen?
Submissions are still open! I currently have 6 subs so far, a small handful of reserved slots, and plenty more still available! If you have any questions, you are always free to PM me.
See you all next chapter,
-Vr
