Lily Shepard, Citizen of District 6
"Your wife must have loved you deeply," I said softly as I gently brushed the foundation onto Mr. Deeth's cold, gray skin. "This doesn't come cheap." He didn't answer back, of course, maybe that was why I didn't mind working with the dead. They'd never answer back or do anything unexpected. Perfectly predictable.
His wife had ordered an open coffin, which meant we couldn't cut our usual corners, and the receptionist was called in to wash, dress, and make the dead look presentable for their funeral. The final stage was the makeup, which I found to be one of the more relaxing steps. It was almost like painting in a way on a soft, cold canvas. I almost enjoyed watching life almost get breathed back into them with each makeup step. I never enjoyed doing it alone, though. The room was full of covered dead bodies in the basement of the building where it was cold. Even bundled up with layers, I could still see my breath. It got lonely, and it could unnerve even the most steel-blooded person, and none of the other guys would come down in the early hours of the morning to make the dead look pretty. None except for Kit.
I smiled a little bit when I heard the door open behind me followed by footsteps and heavy, worn-out breathing. I glanced over my shoulder at Kit, his brown hair and clothes wet from the rain.
"Sorry I'm a little bit late," he got out in breathless pants.
I turned back towards the body. "I'm almost done," I said coldly, going back to my work. It had been five years ago since I begged Kit to keep me company while I cleaned a body after hours. I was a terrified fourteen-year-old who feared the dead rising up and eating me alive. Kit spent the evening mocking me but continued to spend every shift in the morgue by my side. Every time someone ordered an open casket, he'd let me know, and I knew without a doubt that when the evening shift came, he'd spend the evening talking about lighthearted topics to take away from the fact that we were surrounded by the dead.
I wasn't sure when exactly my feelings for Kit developed, but I was sure his company on those cold nights went a long way. He wasn't the easiest person to love or care for. When he first came to the funeral home, he was an argumentative, scrappy kid with authority issues. Not much had changed over the years, but he had mellowed out recently, and I liked to think it was my influence on him.
"Hey, you can't be mad!" he laughed, pulling out a chair and sitting across from me, placing his feet on the edge of the metal table. He had that mischievous grin on his face. "I got you a gift." He thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled free a small, folded-up piece of paper and handed it to me. I cautiously unfolded it to reveal a small watercolor painting of three pink and white lilies, the flower I was named after.
"Did…did you steal it?" I asked. Kit rolled his eyes.
"You're welcome, and no, I didn't steal it." I finally allowed the grin I was fighting to spread onto my face as I looked up at him.
"Thank you…it's beautiful-"
"You can hang that on your desk so you have something pretty to look at…or something," he shrugged. Below the surface, though, he seemed very proud of his gift, something he'd clearly been looking forward to gifting all day. I took one last look at the painting before folding the paper up once more and placing it in my pants pocket. I then looked back at Kit, who looked like he was about to burst at the seams from excitement.
"So, what did you steal?" Kit let out a big exhale of air and leaned forward, digging frantically.
"Right, so she had this little flower brooch on her dresser, definitely worth at least a bowl of soup at the market." He held out the brooch, the glossy coating shimmering in the candlelight. It was pretty, and the detail on the flowers was so intricate that it could have only been made by hand. Kit held up his finger as he placed the brooch back into his pocket. "But this is the showstopper," he said as he pulled free a small metal pocket watch with a chain. "It still works and everything. This could keep us fed for a month!" It was definitely a man's watch, and I felt my eyes move down to Mr. Deeth, knowing that it was probably his. Kit followed my gaze and shrugged.
"He's dead; it's not like he needs to tell the time anymore," Kit protested.
"Was that it?" I sighed. Kit gave a nod.
"There were some coins I found, but that's what I paid for your painting with." I hardened my gaze at him, and he returned the favor. "I had stolen it by then, so the coins were mine. I still paid for the gift fair and square." It was one thing I never understood about Kit. My father, Axel, owned the funeral home, so I had never gone hungry or had to fight for survival. Kit was pretty closed off about his life before he was hired as an apprentice, but my father always told me he lived on the streets for most of it, stealing and fighting for food and money. I guess old habits die hard as Kit still seemed to revert back to a survival mindset when presented with anything in the open that was of slight value. It was almost like he didn't understand the disrespect in stealing from the dead or grieving families. To him, what was theirs is now his, and that's all that mattered. I had given up trying to understand him and just accepted that without being in his shoes, I couldn't hope to understand why he did the things he did. I could only show support like he did for me.
"It's a good haul-"
"Right?!" he said with excitement. "There was more, but I guess she was a grieving widow…plus, I don't want to draw too much attention to myself." I smiled softly at the glimmer of humanity within his statement. He at least had a little bit of empathy.
Athena Carmichel, Citizen of District 2
I brushed a lock of Drusilla's blonde hair behind her ear and forced a smile onto my face. I couldn't keep my hands steady as I cupped her face in my right hand, feeling the tears that streamed down her cheeks. She had grown into such a beautiful young woman, and in this moment, she had never looked more grown up. Yet, when I looked into her blue eyes, I saw my little girl. The baby I held eighteen years ago, the little girl I had watched walk through those school gates for the first time. Now, I would have to watch her volunteer to die.
"You don't have to do this," I said with a sharp intake of breath.
"I don't have a choice…if I win-"
"We don't need the money…Drusilla, look at the house we've built together. Two years ago, we were on the streets, now look at us." She offered a small smile as she looked around the small house we called home, but it quickly faded as her face twisted into a sob.
"I fight people, Mom," she sobbed, her teary eyes meeting mine. "I physically fight men and women every night, and even then…I don't have enough for your treatment," she paused to let out a small whimper as I pulled her in for a tight hug, trying to ignore the harrowing bombshell she had just told me. "I need to win," she cried into my shoulder. We stood there for what felt like minutes, but I watched as the early morning started to seep through the fabric of the curtains and flood the dark candle lit room. Drusilla's sobs soon stopped, and we stood there, swaying in silence, enjoying what could be our final embrace.
"I'd give my life a thousand times if it kept you safe," I whispered softly into her hair. She pulled away quickly and wiped her tears away from her face as she scowled at me.
"I won't allow it," she hissed. "I am volunteering today, and in a few weeks, you can start your treatment and-"
"No one has to die?" she gave a confident nod as if in that moment, she controlled the whole world and its outcomes. The stubbornness was a trait I hated in her father but admired in her. She wielded it with such conviction and power while her father used it to abuse and harm. Her father was so convinced his daughter was going to be a Victor that he put our entire life savings into Drusilla's training to spite me. Now, our daughter would use that training to defend the person who should have been defending her.
"I can't lose you," I said firmly.
"And you won't," she said, her voice harsh and cold. She straightened her back, but I could see her trembling slightly. I reached out my arm when suddenly the Reaping siren sounded in the distance and filled the home. At that moment, I felt my heart drop, and my stomach turned as if my daughter was already being dragged away. I stepped forward, but she pulled back.
"I can do this," she said, her voice shaky and tears spilling from her eyes. "No one has to die."
Kit Sallow, 18 District 6 Male
"Kit?" the voice called softly to me through the haze and emptiness. It called a few times before I found the energy to turn my gaze to its keeper. When I did, I found Lily looking down at me, frantically sobbing.
"Lil?" I croaked, my throat dry and sore from my crying. Lily rushed to my side, taking my hands in hers. I was never one for physical intimacy, and with Lily, it felt strange, but at that moment, I was too distant to care.
"You're going to come home, Kit," she said softly. I could feel her body shaking through her hands as she let out a sob between each word.
"Am I?" I said distantly. "Is that why you are crying?" I looked up at her, and she let out a sigh.
"You won't be alone-"
"Gidget, the girl I was reaped with, I've seen her around school. Do you know she believes in fairies, magic, and the power of friendship…what if I get paired with someone like her?" Lily tilted her head and gave a sad smile as she tightened her grip on my hands. I pulled them away, turned from her slightly. "She's fourteen. The Games will chew her up and spit out a broken, battered body." She let out a sigh, pulled her hands away, and wiped her tears.
"You need to think positive, Kit," she said with a bit of anger. "You're one of the strongest people I know…mentally and physically."
"Means nothing," I turned to look at her. "You know, my mum was the strongest person I knew. So full of love in this shitty world. Fourteen years ago today, she sat in this very same room, same age too…and guess what?" I leaned in close to Lily. "She never came home."
Lily's face twisted in horror as she pulled away from me slightly. "Your mother was a Tribute?" I gave a small nod.
"Porsche Summers. I have my dad's name…not that he wanted me anyway. I know, it's shocking…I actually had one loving parent." I bit my bottom lip as I looked at my lap, wincing at the feelings that swelled inside of me. "The only thing that kept me going when I was out on the streets was the knowledge that someone, at least at one point, cared."
"I love you now," Lily said sympathetically. I turned to her and smiled, at least the best I could muster. It hurt to see her broken and sad. It hurt more that I had to leave her. For years, she had been my only family, my only support, and now I was leaving her alone. Who was going to keep her company when someone ordered an open casket, or protect her when she eventually got a boyfriend? I wouldn't be there. I'd never get to see her off to her first date, or attend her wedding, or hold her first child. I never thought about those milestones for myself, but Lily, more than anyone, deserved to be happy.
"I know," I said quietly. "When my mum died, I thought I'd never have a family again, yet I earned a sister in you, and I'll forever be thankful for that." Lily didn't return my smile; it was almost as if something in her eyes died as they started to swell with tears.
"S-Sister?" she whispered.
Drusilla Carmichel, 18 District 2 Female
I gazed out of the window as the crowds at the platform vanished and were replaced with a blur of green and blue as we entered the small bit of countryside between District Two and the mountains. My reflection was faint, but I could see how exhausted I looked. Beside me sat my District partner, Flavius Beckham, an attractive but overly naive boy. He could fight, though; he was undefeated in the Training Academy, and I was glad he was on my side. The one thing worse than not bringing home a victory in Two was killing your District partner without cause. If we were the only ones left, it was on, but until then, we were unspoken allies with the same goal: To bring another Victory to District Two.
"This is it," he sighed, leaning back in his chair before a smile spread across his face. "I can't believe we're actually here. Look at the buffet and the furnishings…a little touch of what it will be like as a Victor, eh?" I offered a small, polite smile as I turned my attention away from the world outside.
"It's all a bit overwhelming at the moment," I replied, looking at the elegant chandelier that hung from the ceiling and the red velvet chairs with mahogany frames. The chairs alone probably cost more money than either of us had seen in our lifetime.
"It definitely is," Flavius said with a nod. "But that's the aim of the journey to the Capitol. Get your head straight before the cameras are on you…after that, it's showtime." Since we were chosen as volunteers a year ago, we had been tutored by Brutus and Enobaria monthly on how to mentally prepare yourself for the Games. The pre-games were all about planning, training, and perfecting your public image. The fighting aspect could wait until the Arena.
"Are you still up for allying?" I asked him, changing the conversation to the Games themselves. Flavius gave a shrug.
"That was the plan we decided on…my feelings on the matter haven't changed." I gave a nod as I mentally checked that little box. We couldn't pick our partners, but we could pick each other as allies. We were safe with each other, at least until the final two.
"Perfect. I say after dinner tonight, we watch the recap of the Reapings to get a better idea of our partners and the other Tributes."
"Are we planning to be part of the Career pack?" I shrugged, leaning back in my own chair.
"I think it depends on the pairs we get put in…maybe we'll luck out and get paired with each other or some other Career, but if not, I think it's best we stick to a smaller group of just the four of us." It wasn't without its risks. It left the Careers from District 1 and potentially District 4 to form their own oppositional group. However, if we created the usual Career pack, there would be six extra people involved. A group of twelve Tributes was almost laughable and would fracture before the end of the first night, maybe even before if our partners were against killing. Four people could move through the arena easier, and mine and Flavius' personal alliance would be enough to keep the other two in line.
Flavius gave a nod and opened his mouth to say something when the doors to the car opened, revealing a small group of Peacekeepers and our Escort, Glitz. His gaze fell on both of us, his expression calm yet stern.
"Flavius Beckham, if you would follow us, please. It has been requested that you are both placed in separate sections of the train," Glitz said as the Peacekeepers filtered into the room.
"Is that normal?" I asked as we both rose to our feet, uneasy and ready to defend ourselves. Glitz shrugged.
"It is a Quarter Quell; things are a bit different this year."
"I'm not in trouble, am I?" Flavius said, his voice cracking slightly. Glitz just laughed in response.
"Of course not. The Capitol admires you both for your courage and sacrifice. I can assure you the amenities are the exact same as this car." With a sigh, my District partner turned to me and leaned in close to my ear.
"Remember the plan," he whispered before he walked towards the Peacekeepers. And just like that, the door shut, and I was left alone.
Kit Sallow, 18 District 6 Male
It felt like they took the last bit of my District away from me when they forced me into a separate area of the train from Gidget. It's not that I cared for her that much. I felt sorry for her, but I had never been one to form deep connections regularly. I cared more for what she represented, my home, something I may never see again.
I stabbed aimlessly at the sponge cake on my plate as Caesar Flickerman interviewed this year's Gamemaker, Lucius. It was a beautiful cake decorated with strawberries and raspberries, two things I had only ever seen in artwork. I always wanted to try them but, given the circumstances, I was without appetite.
"Well, now folks, it is time that everyone has been waiting for: the drawing of the pairs!" I looked up at the screen and felt my shoulders tense as Caesar walked across the set to a section that displayed two large glass bowls similar to the ones used at the Reapings. "The Tributes have been randomly divided across these two bowls. We will pick one name from each bowl, and the two Tributes chosen will make a pair. Excitingly, the Tributes within the pair will both be eligible for a joint victory." He leaned forward towards the camera and whispered, "So without any further delay, let's meet our first pair!"
I put the cake down on the table in front of me and leaned forward, cupping my hands in front of my mouth. Lucius walked over to the first bowl and swirled his hand around before clasping one of the slips. He then opened the slip and brought the microphone to his lips.
"Drusilla Carmichel from District 2!" The audience cheered as a video of a stern blonde girl volunteered, much to the delight of her District. She was pretty but clearly a Career who had made the active choice to be here. The idea of such a thing made my stomach turn. The way she carried herself with confidence and purpose as if killing children on Television was her life purpose. The clip ended with her confidently announcing her name to the crowd and was once again replaced with Caesar and Lucius.
"Wonderful!" Caesar laughed. "And let's see who Drusilla will be fighting side by side with." Lucius gave a nod as he shuffled over to the second bowl and picked out a slip from the top and unfolded it.
"Drusilla Carmichel paired with…Kit Sallow of District 6!" I scrambled for the remote control and turned off the screen, my breathing rapid and eyes wide with fear. A Career could very well be my ticket home, but I knew what they were capable of. They were cold-blooded killers who did this for fun. They enjoyed killing people like me. I never claimed to be the most moral person alive, but I would never hurt someone for fun.
Fourteen years ago, I watched as the girl from District 2 smashed my mother's skull, knowing it was broadcast to an entire nation. Now one of those cold-blooded murderers was my only hope of going home.
Drusilla Carmichel, 18 District 2 Female
I gave a sharp exhale when I heard my name announced, bringing my knees up to my chest to try and calm the shaking. For years, I had trained for this; I'd put my life on the line, and it could all rest on who the next name they called was.
"Kit Sallow of District 6!" District 6, transport, I thought as they started to run a clip of the boy. He was a bit shorter than me, with fluffy brown hair and small, blue eyes tearful with fear. He looked underfed and scrappy. He had the appearance of a survivor at least, but not much of a fighter.
His clip faded to black and was replaced by a small graphic of mine and Kit's faces next to each other, which quickly moved to the corner of the screen as they moved on to the next pair. I kept my eyes on Kit's face for the rest of the show, only moving my gaze when they revealed Flavius' partner, the eighteen-year-old boy from District 9, Clay. A skinny, short boy with thick curly black hair.
It was hard to say until I met him, but I felt hopeful about Kit. Maybe with a little bit of training, he could actually pull some weight in the alliance. I leaned back in the chair, relaxing ever so slightly now I knew who I'd be fighting alongside in that arena. Slightly more confident that I could actually go home.
Lily and Drusilla's mother will have the odd POV here and there throughout the story. They will provide an outsider's view into the Games and the public perception of the pairs. What the Tributes experience and what the Capitol shows the Nation will be very different.
Submissions are now closed and hopefully by the next chapter I will have most of the Tributes so I can reveal the pairs and showcase some of your characters.
Be sure to let me know what you think and I'll see you in the next chapter.