Dancing through a dream
Underneath the stars
Laughing till the morning comes
Everyone that leaves has a heavy heart
Oooh, won-derland I love
Aisling Dagnè
District 1, They/Them, 18
(6 Months Prior the Reaping)
...
It's early on a Friday morning and I find myself among every other teenager. Some are sitting down and talking with their friends, others are practicing their hand to hand combat. Although they are doing different things, we are all here due to the brainwashing of our families and The Capitol to fight for the chance to volunteer our lives away. I never used to feel the urge to join in and begin parrying someone with a sword but that urge has developed as I've grown older. The urge to be rich and famous and paraded with glory is something everyone wants and I'm no exception.
However, I don't think I would ever like to be in The Games, I train in order to build myself as a person. As much as I'd like the glory of a Victor, I know the pain and the suffering that comes with it and I think that's something a lot of others choose not to think about. I've always been different to most kids in District One, if it wasn't my extreme intelligence then it was at least the ability to be kind. Kindness is something that is usually hard to come by from people in any of the Career districts, most of us are power hungry and greedy and will do anything to fulfil those needs. Including throw our children into a death game.
I head toward the gymnasium and take a seat in the bleachers, people start to file in shortly after. Most in groups, gossiping with each other. I guess the one negative of being different is that I've never been good at making friends and I've always tried my best to avoid people. Once everyone takes their seats, the leader of our academy, Austin Creed, takes to the centre of the room and is followed by the Mayor of One.
"Hello, hello and welcome." He announces, silencing the applause that sprouted from his presence. "Today I am here to announce the volunteers for The 24th Hunger Games!" Another round of applause comes from all the other 18-17 year olds, hoping to get a chance to be in The Games that they've fought so hard to win. "We'll start with our female. This person has displayed a good mix of both intelligence and weaponry and they are a very good addition to our academy. It's Aisling Dagnè!"
Me? But I didn't want to volunteer? I never once put myself forward for this and I clearly stated I never wanted this. Austin ushers me toward him and my legs begin to move before I can think and I clumsily trip over the bleacher in front of me, everyone begins to laugh at me and a million different emotions dominate my head. I pick myself up, tears blurring my vision, and take a stand next to Austin. Fear, embarrassment, guilt. How will my mother react? Will she be mad that I'm leaving her alone? A thousand questions are filled inside my head. Could I ask to not do it? I finally tell myself that I'll talk to Austin after the male is announced and steady my breathing, trying to look as confident as possible. However, confidence is most certainly not how I am feeling in this moment of tension.
"Robert Smith!" Is called and a serious-looking dark haired boy walks silently from his isolated seat. It seems District One has selected two anti-social volunteers, I can't blame them, typically we're more focused on training rather than popularity like the others trainees. Still, sometimes I care about those kind of things, sometimes I wish I was just a normal kid who went to a normal school and hung out with normal people who weren't training to murder others. There's no such thing, though, expect maybe in The Capitol but it's no use putting my expectations at that level.
Austin congratulates the two of us and I watch as the other trainees dull expressions look back at me as they clap, eyes digging into my head, trying to find out in what way am I better than them. I let them stare, hopefully I'll be out of this nightmare soon anyway once I get the chance to talk to Austin. He quickly turns, his long, blonde hair flipping violently and I chase after him.
"Mr. Creed, Sir!" He turns around, stopping me in my tracks. Here goes nothing.
Robert Smith
District 1, He/Him, 18
(Reaping Day)
...
I stare blankly at my bowl of cereal, well, really it's just milk now. I swirl it around with the use of a spoon and use it to distract myself from what is really going on. I'm about to enter The Hunger Games.
Oh here we go again.
I sigh aloud, I've had an internal argument with myself about being a tribute ever since I had been selected as volunteer. There were times before where I had wondered what I was getting myself into, where I had wondered if I was wasting my childhood on such a pointless act. However, every time those thoughts invaded into my brain, I'd fend them off with the thought of being a Victor.
Because that's who I am, right? A Victor. Robert Smith, the Victor. At least it's who I will be, who I hope to be. There's nothing else left for me except that title, besides maybe a grave in the tribute cemetery and a bit of mourning from my family. All I want is to win. To be free from the pressure of training and the anticipation of the arena. I want to just be Robert Smith, I want to have unique interests and motivations, I want something else other than sleep, school, academy.
I smile to myself, longingly thinking about it, but I'm interrupted by the snicker that comes from in front of me. I focus out of my head and catch Skylark, my older sister, grinning at me from the opposite side of the table.
"Imagining being Victor?" She teases and I roll my eyes. Although I know she means well, I feel that's the only thing anyone views me as. Even my own family. Will I ever be able to get rid of that word Victor?
"More like manifesting it." I chuckle. I'm confident in my abilities and skills, I do think I deliver the whole package but there's others who have thought the same and then suffered the pain of death in the arena. I just need to focus on the crown.
"Mom and Dad have already left for the centre to get some groceries at the market on their way. We should probably get going." I nod and take a deep breath, grabbing my blazer and heading out the door. I take a look at our two-story cottage that sits by the small river that flows around District 1. For once, I appreciate the sight that is my home and take in every second of it before I begin the walk to the Reaping - Skylark by my side.
We have to jog a little to make it on time but I quickly join the line, waving goodbye to Skylark. "I'll see you in a few minutes!" She shouts back to me, referring to the goodbyes. I wait in line a couple minutes until I reach the front, a Peacekeeper snatches my finger and pricks it in the fraction of a second. She then directs me to where I'm supposed to be. I take my place among the crowd, letting myself fit in. This will likely be the last time I'm not in the spotlight for the rest of my life, I want to cherish it.
I'm interrupted by a screeching noise of our escort welcoming the district. It's the same one as last year, she introduces herself as Elvera but I don't really care and let my mind drift a little as she plays the usual video. "Before we start the reaping, let's welcome our mentors... Opal Lusth and Layton Gem!" Two of our Victors enter the stage, it seems Pluto Rose still hasn't been found. Although, I'm not surprised, I heard some rumours that last year's Victor was attacked a few weeks ago. "Let's start with the ladies..." She rustles around a bit before picking a select paper. "Mariyah Singh!" Before Mariyah can even be found by the people recording, a shout comes from someone.
"I volunteer as tribute!" Their voice quivers slightly on 'tribute' but their face doesn't show it as it appears on the District One screen and they quickly make tueir way up to the stage and next to Elvera. "Aisling Dagnè." They speak into the microphone and everyone applauds. I didn't really know them before we were both selected to volunteer, I guess the two of us sort of just hide in the shadows of the academy and keep to ourselves.
"And for our male..." She tuts, attempting to grow the tension. Really, everyone already knows who's going to volunteer. Me. "Nicholas-"
"I volunteer as tribute!" I shout, already walking to the stage. Let's do this.
A/N: I really am taking my time with this, let's hope for quicker updates soon. I think I'm slowly finding motivation. Anyway, thank you Gomex for Aisling and Iomhar for Robert, they were fun to write and here's to hoping I wrote them well.
- Neb