A/N: No trigger warnings for this chapter.
Winstead Dale, age 17
District 11 Male
I breathe heavily as I continue down the row of kale plants, picking a handful of leaves per plant and adding the leaves to my basket. Kale is in high demand these days in the Capitol - they say it's some kind of superfood - and the vegetable's peak harvest season is springtime, which is why we're harvesting a lot of it in Eleven even though spring is when the Hunger Games take place every year. We don't get a break just because it's Reaping Day. My family is better off than many in Eleven and I'm grateful of the fact that I've never had to take tesserae, but that doesn't mean we can slack off.
"Hey Winstead, are you alright?"
It's my best friend, Abilene. Her family, the Ackermans, and my family are very close, and now she's jogging up to me with a concerned look on her face. Her basket is half-full of kale leaves, and she's carrying a water bottle in her other hand. I stand up from my work to smile at her, and that's when I realize how wet I am. My tank top is soaked with sweat, and when I put a hand to my hair I can't tell where the sweat from my hands ends and where the sweat from my hair begins.
"I guess I need a break," I say, frowning. I must look disgusting.
It isn't even that sunny right now, but it's very hot for a spring day, and my hyperhidrosis means that I sweat far more than most people. Sweating too much is an annoying condition to have because it means that when it's hot or sunny out I can't keep up with more energetic people like Abilene without getting soaked and dehydrated. I wish I could work harder and run faster, but there's nothing I can do about my hyperhidrosis other than rest a lot in the shade and drink a lot of water. Which I guess I have to do now or I'll keel over.
"Here, drink this," Abilene says sweetly, handing me her water bottle. "I'll get you some more cold water and a towel, okay? I'll meet you at the tree."
"Thanks," I murmur, too exhausted to say anything more as Abilene smiles at me before jogging away. I drink the water slowly, resisting the urge to gulp it down, and focus on breathing steadily. When the bottle is empty, I make my way to the large elm tree that I often find myself resting under after a long, sweat-filled day at work.
"You're doing great, guys, keep it up," I say as I pass some friends from school who work alongside me. Viridian looks up from his harvesting and gives me a thumbs-up and a smile. I smile back.
I reach the cool shade and sit down, leaning against the thick trunk of the tree. Despite getting some water in my system, I still feel a little dizzy and lightheaded, not to mention the fact that I'm still really sweaty. I sigh, wringing my shirt and grimacing at how gross it is.
Abilene reaches the tree in just a few minutes, carrying six plastic water bottles and a wet towel.
"Here," she says, making her way to where I'm sitting. "You should drink up. The Reaping is later today and I don't want you fainting in the crowd."
"I don't want that to happen either," I say, smiling gratefully as I take the towel and a bottle of water. I drape the towel around my shoulders - it's soaked with cold water, which feels great - and drink the brand-new bottle of water.
"How are you feeling now?" Abilene asks, sitting next to me. "Better?"
"Yeah," I say, wiping away my sweat with the towel. "I should get back to work."
"Winstead, you need to rest," Abilene insists. "And our shift will be over soon anyways."
"Sure," I sigh, drinking more water. "When I get home I'm taking a long, long, long, cold, cold, cold shower."
"Of course," Abilene says, grinning. "Well, I'm going to do a bit more work but we'll walk home together, okay?"
"Are you sure?" I ask. "I know you like to go for a run after work. You don't need to wait for me, I'll be fine walking home with everyone."
Abilene is silent for a bit as she ponders whether to walk with me or run on her own after work. I can tell that she wants to make sure I'm okay, so I add, "We can walk to the pickup area together like we always do on Reaping Days."
"Alright, I'll see you later, I guess," Abilene says slowly, though she's wearing her usual smile. "And stay there until the bells ring, I want to make sure you aren't dehydrated."
"Yes ma'am," I say jokingly. Abilene laughs and bounds away, leaving me in the shade with the towel and the water bottles.
I smile as I watch my best friend go back to work. I care about her a lot, and I'd hate to see her get hurt. She's always so sweet to me and everyone around her.
I run my fingers along the yellow shoelace in my pocket. It's my good luck charm, reminding me of my sunny personality and my love for running. Abilene has the other shoelace in the pair, as a symbol of our friendship. It's pretty funny, the way we grew up together and did everything together, and still do. Maybe after work I can run with her, even though I sweat so much. I can always rehydrate when I get home.
"Hey, earth to Winstead," a voice sounds. I start, realizing that Viridian is waving a hand in front of me. "Whatcha doin', thinking about your girlfriend?"
"Abilene is not my girlfriend," I splutter, caught off guard by Viridian and his cheeky smile.
"Oh I get it, she's just a friend you think about a lot who happens to be a girl," Viridian says, grinning. "Hey, you feeling alright? You look kinda red."
"Yeah I'm fine, just sweating too much as usual," I say good-naturedly, glad that my friend changed the subject. "But I'm getting plenty of rest and water."
"That's good," Viridian says, nodding.
By the time my work shift ends, I feel a lot better. I still wish I could do more, but I've done all that I can considering my condition. I meet up with my family and the Ackermans - minus Abilene, who must have run off already - and we all start home.
Abilene Ackerman, age 17
District 11 Female
My sneakers hit the cracked pavement as I run. I'm pretty sweaty - not as sweaty as Winstead was earlier today, but I'm still working up a good sweat - but I feel great, the way I always feel when I run. It was a pretty short run from the kale fields where I work to my house, and I reached my house before anyone else, but I felt like running a bit more so after I dropped everything off I started my usual lap around my neighborhood. I'm about halfway through the lap and I still feel like I can run a lot more.
I turn a corner where the houses meet the fields and skid to a stop when I spot a small girl sitting on the ground in front of me. She's holding her ankle and has a look of pain on her face. I recognize the girl. Her name is Azalea, and I've lended her a hand a few times in the past. I don't know how old she is, but there's a good chance that she's twelve and this is her first Reaping. No matter what, though, she looks like she needs help.
"Hey," I say gently, wiping some sweat off my brow before crouching down and smiling gently at Azalea. "Are you alright?"
"I think I broke my ankle," Azalea says, frowning.
"Here, let me see," I say, reaching down and moving Azalea's hands slowly. I don't see anything on the surface, but that doesn't mean that there isn't anything wrong.
"Does it hurt more when you press down on it?" I ask.
"I don't… yes," Azalea says. I'm surprised at how forcefully she said yes, but I don't think too much about it. I loot around my pockets and find nothing but a few coins.
"Hey, I was on a run so I don't have much on me," I say, frowning as I pocket the change, "but I can help you get home. Do you think you can stand up if you put weight on your good leg?"
"I'll try," Azalea says, looking pained as she tries to stand up. I help her, and I end up supporting the little girl as she stands on one leg without putting much weight on the other.
"Alright, can you maybe take a few steps forward?" I ask. "And if it hurts to put weight on your bad ankle, just use your good leg and I'll help you walk."
Azalea tries to put her bad leg down, but she grimaces when she does so. "I think I need to see a doctor," she says, looking up at me sadly, "but I'm not sure if my family can afford it."
"Oh," I say quietly. I don't hesitate at all to pull out the coins I'm carrying. "You can have-"
"There you are, Azalea!"
Azalea's eyes go wide as a thin but angry-looking woman rounds the corner and glares at the little girl.
"Eep, gotta go!" Azalea squeaks, wriggling away from me and taking off like a scared rabbit. She's fast, and she's gone before I can even register what's happening. The woman chases after the girl, and I'm left standing there pondering what to do. I'm feeling confused more than anything. What just happened? How did Azalea run so fast with a broken ankle? Unless…
I shake my head. No, she wouldn't do that. Maybe she didn't hurt her ankle as badly as she thought she did, and I know that people can shake off their injuries easily if they're scared. Realizing that Azalea's probably scared right now, I run after her and the woman.
I catch up to them pretty quickly - I'm a pretty fast runner, after all - and the woman is gripping Azalea's hand tightly and looking at me apologetically.
"Hello," she says, clearly trying to look calm when she's holding onto a squirming little girl. "I really apologize for my daughter's behavior. This isn't the first time this has happened."
"What do you mean?" I ask, utterly confused now. "Wasn't she hurt?"
"Of course not, how else would she have run away so quickly?" the woman huffs. "I'm sorry Azalea tried to take advantage of you. We may be struggling but it isn't fair to trick people out of their money."
"She didn't-" I stop short. Did the little girl really pretend to be injured in order to get me to give her my change?
"I'm afraid this has become a habit for her," the woman sighs, running a hand through her graying hair. "I love my daughter. I just wish there was a way for me to get through to her."
I'm still surprised, but I manage a smile, like I always do. "You know, if you're struggling, you can have these," I say, handing the coins I'm carrying to the woman. "I know it isn't much - I was on a run so that was all I had in my pockets - but I hope it helps."
The woman looks shocked, but she smiles at me. "Are you sure?" she asks. "It seems unfair for you to help us after what Azalea did-"
"I'm sure," I say, placing the coins in the woman's hands. I crouch down and smile at Azalea, even though the little girl looks nervous. "And Azalea, if you ever need anything, don't be afraid to be honest and ask."
"Really?" Azalea asks, her eyes lighting up.
"Don't give her any ideas," Azalea's mother says, looking stressed. "You've already done so much for us-"
"I'd be happy to help," I say, smiling. "My name is Abilene, and I live nearby. If you guys ever need anything feel free to reach out, okay?"
"Okay," Azalea exclaims, smiling.
"We'll keep that in mind," the woman says, sighing. "You're a kind soul, Abilene. I would hate to see you get hurt."
"Don't worry, I won't," I say. "Is there anything else I can help you with, Ma'am?"
"I think you should get ready for the Reaping," the woman says gently. "We're about to head home."
"Alright," I say, nodding. "I'll see you two around."
"Good luck, Abilene," Azalea's mother says, smiling at me. I smile back before heading back home, throwing myself into a run.
I feel great, even though it's Reaping Day. Life is wonderful and full of wonderful people, and the Hunger Games aren't going to get me down. I'm in a happy mood all the way home.
Florin La Rue, age 22
District 11 Escort
I don't admit it except to people I really trust, but over the five years I've been here I've come to really like District 11. The open fields are a welcome change from the claustrophobic buildings of the Capitol, and the Mayor, a nice old man named Garland Till, really tries his best to lift his District out of its poverty and harsh Peacekeeper treatment.
There's also Oregano Carraway, the Victor of the 40th Games. He's the same age as me, and I brought him home on my first year of escorting. We're very close because of this, but I'm still terrified of admitting to anyone that I'm head-over-heels in love with him. Firstly, Orrie, despite his kindness, is skittish and easily startled; I'm nervous about how he'd react if I confessed to him. Secondly, my parents would kill me if they found out I was in love with a District citizen who likes to work in the fields. Thirdly, if news of my feelings for Orrie got out there would be a shitstorm.
I don't like shitstorms.
"Florin."
I'm snapped out of my daze by a voice that brings me back to reality. I've been staring at Orrie for who knows how long, and now Gardenia Terry is glaring at me from the other side of Orrie with those cold eyes of hers.
"Yes?" I say, regarding the Victor of the 33rd Games warily.
Gardenia Terry, the Victor with the current record for number of direct kills in the Hunger Games, is the scariest woman I've ever met. She insists on mentoring every year, and every Games her advice to the tributes is the same: close your heart, become a cold monster, kill, kill, kill because the world is cruel and that's the only way to win. Everyone I've met, whether in Eleven or the Capitol, is terrified of her.
She's the only part of District 11 I don't like.
"Nothing," Gardenia says coolly, leaning back but still glaring at me. "I just hope you'll continue following my strategy this year."
"O-of course," I stammer. "Whatever you say, Gardenia. Your strategy is as good as any."
"And Oregano, I expect you to encourage the tributes to become monsters as well," Gardenia says, her icy stare turning to her mentoring partner. "We have varying degrees of success year by year and I hope this year will be a better one. We don't want our tributes to get hurt now, do we?"
Orrie is silent, and I take his hand and give it what I hope is a reassuring squeeze. He's looking down and shaking. I want to say something, anything to comfort him, but the truth is that I've always been a total coward. I'm too scared to go against Gardenia, the woman who sliced brutally through her victims' bodies without batting an eye.
"Orrie?" Gardenia prods.
"I-I'll do my best," Orrie says, not looking at Gardenia.
"Gardenia, please," Mayor Till says sternly, even though I can hear the fear in his voice. "I expect you to have a working relationship with Orrie and Florin. How can you expect to have one when they're terrified of you?"
I smile in relief at Mayor Till's intervention, but my smile quickly fades when Gardenia's stare moves to the Mayor.
"With all due respect, Mayor," Gardenia says, "many working relationships are based on fear. It's a cruel world we live in, and therefore, in order for our tributes to survive, they must become cruel. I'm just doing my best to help our tributes come home."
"What do you know, it's time for the Reaping to begin," Mayor Till says, standing up. He places a comforting hand on Orrie's shoulder as he walks past. "Orrie, thanks for being the one to deal with Gardenia this year. Let me know if you need anything."
Orrie nods stiffly, and when Mayor Till moves on I hasten to smile at the Victor. I hope my smile is enough to reassure Orrie as Mayor Till begins his usual somber and succinct speech. He lists District 11's three Victors, introduces Gardenia and Orrie, and turns things over to me.
Every year, my parents expect me to act excited for the Hunger Games, and since I'm too scared to disagree with them I follow their orders and play the part of the overly enthusiastic escort. Capitolites like this angle better, and Orrie and Mayor Till know it's an act anyways.
I walk energetically to the center of the stage, wishing District 11 a happy Hunger Games and saying the usual "may the odds be ever in your favor". I'm wearing a bright pink tuxedo patterned with flowers, a matching flower-patterned tie, and a crown of pink flowers. My hair is dyed dark green, and my skin is dyed spring green. At least my appearance expresses how much I like District 11.
"I'm happy to be here, as always," I say, smiling and hoping that all this acting is worth it in the end. It isn't a lie that I'm happy to be here, at least.
"Of course, I'm very honored to be your escort, and I hope that this year will be a winning year for all of us," I say happily. "I'm going to do my very best to bring one of our tributes home, but I can't do that unless we meet our tributes, can I?" I chuckle to myself, even though the entire District, including the Reaping Areas shown on the screens in the City Square, is silent.
"Without further ado, let's meet our girl," I say. I walk over to the girls' Reaping Bowl, fish out a slip, and walk back to the microphone.
"District 11," I say, unfolding the piece of paper, "your female tribute is Abilene Ackerman!"
I watch the screens for movement, and sure enough, a girl steps out of the seventeen-year-old section of one of the Reaping Areas. She's remarkably beautiful, wearing a purple dress with her hair half up and half down. She has tan skin, dark brown hair, and brown eyes that are wide with fear. The girl walks to the stage set up at her Reaping Area stiffly.
"Are there any volunteers for Abilene?" I ask when Abilene reaches the stage. I count to twenty, but there are no volunteers, as expected.
"Alright then, let's meet our boy," I say, walking over to the boys' Reaping Bowl and choosing a slip of paper from it. I unfold the slip as I walk back to the microphone.
"District 11, your male tribute is Winstead Dale!"
A fair-skinned boy practically jumps out of the seventeen-year-old section in the same Reaping Area as Abilene's. His hair is wet, and his black button-down shirt, with its sleeves rolled up, looks damp as well. The boy runs onto the stage and gives the Reaped girl a big hug. I raise my eyebrows at this turn of events - maybe the two Reaped tributes know each other. It seems likely, considering that Winstead is holding onto Abilene and whispering something to her.
"Are there any volunteers for Winstead?" I ask, but there are none. I take a deep breath and straighten my tie. If Winstead and Abilene really know each other, going into the Hunger Games together will be difficult for them. I'll have to do my best to make sure that they are as prepared as possible, and that one of them will make it out alive.
"District 11, your tributes for the 44th Annual Hunger Games, Abilene Ackerman and Winstead Dale!" I exclaim.
Normally I would ask the tributes to shake hands since they're from the same Reaping Area, but since Winstead and Abilene are still hugging I decide against it. The District gives a round of polite applause, and I turn things back to Mayor Till, already wondering how I'm going to help mentor two tributes who probably have a history together.
Winstead Dale, age 17
District 11 Male
I sigh, leaning back as my friends leave the Goodbye Room. I'm still sweaty, whether it's from the heat or my fear, and I fan myself, trying to cool myself down. All I can think about is how I'm going to do whatever I can to protect Abilene.
The door opens, and my family walks in. Georgia, my fourteen-year-old sister, almost tackles me with a hug, but then she sees how sweaty I am and sits down next to me instead. Mom and Dad take their seats as well, and I smile at my family, hoping to let them know that even though I'm in the Games I'm going to keep my head up.
"I'm going to do my best, guys," I say. "I'm going to learn how to use a weapon, and if I have to kill in order to protect myself and Abilene I will."
"Please, just take care of each other, okay?" Mom says with tears in her eyes. "I don't want to lose you both."
"I'll try my best," I say. It isn't a lie.
"Mom, Dad," Georgia says, "will I have to marry Barric now?"
"Of course not," Dad says, giving my sister a quick hug. "What makes you think that we'd force it to happen?"
"I know you and the Ackermans wanted your kids to get married," Georgia responds slowly, "and now that either Winstead or Abilene are going to die, does that mean that it's up to me and Barric now?"
"No!" Mom exclaims, ruffling Georgia's hair. "I know you and Barric are like siblings. We wouldn't want to take that relationship away from you."
"How do you know about that marrying thing, anyways?" Dad asks with a pained smile.
"I… I'm sorry," Georgia mutters, looking down. "I should be saying goodbye to Winstead, not getting into your business."
"Stay strong, okay sis?" I ask with a smile as I give Georgia a hug. "I'll do my best to make it home, but no matter what happens, you'll be okay."
Georgia sighs as she hugs me back. "Winstead, do you really mean it when you say you'll learn a weapon?"
"Definitely," I say, nodding. "I want to be able to defend myself and Abilene in the Arena."
"It's a good idea to learn a weapon," Mom says gravely. "I've watched a few Games in the past where a few tributes refused to touch weapons. Winstead, you have a good heart, but not touching weapons is going to get in the way of your survival. So learn a few things during Training, okay?"
"I will," I say. "I promise. And I'll be by Abilene's side until the very end. I care about her too much to ever abandon her."
"I'm glad that you two are going to take care of each other," Dad says, squeezing my shoulder. "Winstead, we'll all miss you, but I know you're going to do your best and keep your head up."
"Of course," I say, nodding vigorously.
The Ackermans visit me after my family leaves. They ask me to do my best for both myself and Abilene, and I promise that I'll do that much. Barric promises to be there for Georgia, and I find myself smiling at how much the Ackermans care about me like they're my family as well.
Then the Ackermans leave, and I'm left alone in the Goodbye Room, determined to be there for Abilene throughout the Games. These are hard times, but I'm positive that we can get through them together.
Abilene Ackerman, age 17
District 11 Female
As the Dales leave the Goodbye Room, I lean back in the couch and close my eyes. I'm exhausted from work, running, getting Reaped alongside Winstead, and being visited by friends, my family, and the Dales. I try to smile like always, but I can't help but worry about going into the Games with Winstead.
I know he's going to take care of me and I'm going to take care of him, but I also know that I'm not ready in any way for the Hunger Games. In my seventeen years of life I've never had to experience hunger, death, or tragedy. I'm utterly unprepared for being responsible for someone's death, and I don't want to think about touching a weapon. I promised my parents that I'd learn how to use a knife, but I don't think I can actually use it to kill someone. All my life I've been helpful and supportive of people, seeing the good in everything and everyone. How can I turn that around and kill?
Come on, I think to myself, trying to bring me out of my uncharacteristic sadness. Look on the bright side. You can do this. You'll be with Winstead every step of the way.
I smile as I think about my best friend. With him by my side, I can do anything. There's no point in worrying and being negative, so instead I take a deep breath, preparing for what comes next.
A/N: Many thanks to curiousclove for submitting both Winstead, our District 11 Male, and Abilene, our District 11 Female! What do you think of Winstead, Abilene, and Florin? If I wrote your character, how did I do? Please let me know what you think of the characters and the chapter in the reviews!
Up next will be the District 12 Reaping, which will introduce Isadora Fink and Mero Coutel.
Thanks for reading, and may the odds be ever in your favor!