Anahira Wero, 18
District 2 Female
It was time. Reaping Day was a week away, which meant it was time for the Academy trainers to announce the selected volunteers. The main training gym had been turned into a makeshift auditorium and it was filled with sweaty teenagers. It was less than pleasant, but I wasn't bothered. It was a stench I was used to.
Everyone was whispering excitedly and several of the top-ranking tributes were standing near the microphone, bragging loudly to each other. I took a seat near the back and swept my dark curls up into a ponytail. I just wanted to get this over with.
"Hi Anahira," a cheerful girl said as she sat down next to me. I smiled at her. It was Chloe, my closest friend at the Academy. Like me, she didn't train to volunteer - she trained to stay fit and connect with people. Chloe was a person who craved community; something I was blessed to be born with.
"Hi," I whispered back.
"Attention everyone!" Dean O'Malley roared. The room fell silent as everyone scurried to their seats. Dean O'Malley was a strict man no one would ever dare cross. He was the husband of District 2's own Rourke O'Malley, who would occasionally help with training sessions.
"All of you have put in excellent work this year," the Dean continued. "But several students stood out above the rest. After much deliberation, the Academy is proud to announce Blue Amata as our male representative!"
Cheers rose from the crowd of trainees and I applauded politely. I didn't know Blue very well, but everybody knew he lost his twin sister last year, at the hands of the eventual victor, Johanna Mason. It wasn't a surprise that he'd be following her into the arena.
"And our female representative will be… Anahira Wero!"
I froze. My name echoed around the room, which was suddenly silent. But some applause eventually picked up as Chloe grabbed my shoulder.
"Congratulations!" she said, giving me a light shake. It was just enough to bring me out of my stupor.
"Thanks," I mumbled.
"What?" someone shouted. I saw Siobhan McAllister stand up. "She's the volunteer? The tattoo freak?"
"McAllister, take your seat immediately," Dean O'Malley spat. "Wero is a capable tribute despite what she wears on her skin. You would do well to show some respect."
Siobhan sank down into her chair as the Dean called an end to the meeting. Most students gathered around Blue or went back to their training, leaving Chloe and I alone.
"This is huge!" she said excitedly. "You're going to volunteer!"
"Yeah…"
"Aren't you excited?" Chloe asked.
"I am… I just didn't expect it to be me." I was telling her a half-truth, but she didn't seem to notice.
"I have to go," I told her suddenly. "I have an appointment in an hour and I have to get ready."
"Oh! Okay. Have fun!" She waved to me as I ran for the locker room.
I felt bad for lying to Chloe, but she wouldn't understand why I was hesitant. I wasn't popular, like Siobhan and Blue. I was the tattoo girl.
But I was proud of my tattoos. Culture was hard to keep alive in Panem, but my people kept the coals burning. Only a small population of District 2 were Māori, but we were close-knit and happy.
Our tattoos - tā moko - told the story of who we were. Our ancestry, our strengths, our prosperity… all of it was printed on our bodies. And I was lucky enough to be one of the people who created those tattoos.
I always loved to draw, even when I was little. Becoming a tohunga-tā-moko - a tattoo artist - was hard work, but I knew it was my calling. But tā moko, and Māori culture in general, wasn't going to make me any friends.
I started training at the Academy to meet people, and to prove I wasn't some tattooed freak. Some people liked my tattoos and asked me how I got them, which led me down the path of being a professional tattoo artist. Nearly every tattoo a District 2 citizen had was done by me.
I ran a finger across my lower lip, touching the moko kauæ there. This tattoo was done by Arona, the tohunga-tā-moko who taught me everything she knew. She'd done it two years ago, when I finished making my first taiaha - my weapon. I was honored to receive it, but what it meant still hung heavy in my mind.
Was I going to embrace my Panem blood, or my Māori blood? Was I going to volunteer?
Everyone likes to think they're brave, but they aren't. I wasn't brave either. I was spineless. And I was going to volunteer.
Diesel Calator, 14
District 6 Male
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Dynamo asked. He was holding his skateboard against his chest, peering worriedly down at the cement below us.
"Nope," I answered, not looking up from where I was adjusting the truck of my board a little. "Hey Aria, do you want to go first?"
"Nah," my other friend said with a laugh. "If anyone is going to faceplant, I want it to be you."
"Rude," I grumbled. But I stood up and placed one foot on my board.
Finding this empty pool had been nothing short of a miracle. Barely anyone in District 6 was rich enough to have a pool and those who did would never let us skate in it. But Aria found a house the other day that was up for sale, and that had a pool in the backyard. An empty pool.
I went right up to the edge and looked down, planning my tricks. Then I shoved off and went sailing down the side. The rush of the wind in my messy black hair and the adrenaline pounding through my body was heaven. Whenever I was on my board, I knew I was doing what I was meant to be.
As I zoomed back and forth I threw in a few tricks, flicking the board backwards and grabbing the edge, and then twirling it beneath my feet. Aria and Dynamo cheered me on from the edge of the pool.
Finally, I flew over the edge and came to a halt. I was breathing hard but I was buzzing with energy.
"That was awesome," I breathed. Aria laughed.
"It looked awesome," Dynamo said. He edged closer to the pool and then pushed off.
Dynamo was a natural skateboarder, but he lacked confidence. It was something Aria and I were trying to instill in him. I wanted him to be the best skater he could be. We were the most dynamic skating trio in District 6.
Suddenly, Dynamo's foot caught the edge of his board as he tried to flip it. He went down, hitting the cement hard. Aria was immediately sliding down into the pool to help him. But I hesitated for a moment, Rylan's bloody face flashing in my mind.
"Diesel!" Aria shouted. "A little help?"
"Yeah, hang on!" I gasped, shaking the image out of my head. I skidded down the side to help Aria haul Dynamo to his feet.
"I'm fine guys, don't worry," he said, flexing his fingers and rolling his wrists to make sure nothing was broken.
"Did you hit your head?" Aria asked.
"No," Dynamo said. "I'm going to have a bruised elbow, but that's it."
"That was definitely your best attempt at a tough grab," I said. It was a pathetic attempt to cheer him up and he saw right through it.
"Except for the fact that I wiped out," he said bitterly. Aria nudged his shoulder
"Hey, we all mess up sometimes. Except for me, because I'm perfect." She flipped her hair and whacked me in the face with her red locks, which made me grumble and both of my friends laugh.
"I think we should call it a day," Dynamo said. "I'm getting hungry anyways."
"Sounds good to me," Aria said. "We can meet up here tomorrow."
"Tomorrow is Reaping Day," Dynamo reminded her. The mood instantly soured.
"The day after, then," I decided. "I'll see you guys later."
We all scrambled out of the pool, grabbed our boards and went our separate ways. I took the long way back to the community home, as usual. I didn't want to pass Rylan's house.
Rylan was the guy who got me into skateboarding. We were super close and we hung out all the time. Rylan taught me everything he knew and we loved to race. Rylan usually won, and when I finally beat him, he ended up bloody and severely injured.
Nova and Axel, our other buddies, blamed me. I never bumped Rylan, but I didn't notice when he wiped out. Nova and Axel hadn't spoken to me since, and Rylan told me to go away whenever I tried to visit him.
But I was over them. If Rylan actually loved skateboarding, he would have come back to it. He was letting his fear control him. I would never do that. The thrill of danger was what made life worth living. And now that I had friends again, I had everything I needed.
Adera "Addie" Laurier, 16
District 6 Female
This was the hottest summer District 6 ever experienced; that I could remember, at least. And the heat of the oven wasn't helping at all. I had all the windows in the bakery open, but I was still sweating buckets. My dark hair, which was usually down, was tied up in a bun on top of my head. I was leaning awkwardly away from the bread dough, trying to keep my sweat from dripping into it.
"Don't worry about it," Jackie said from the front counter, where he was wiping it down. "It's just salt."
"Jackie!" I gasped. "That's disgusting and you know it. I would never sell something that awful."
"You sell drugs," Jackie pointed out. I rolled my eyes.
"That's different."
I carefully set the dough aside to rise and then sprinkled some sugar on top of the blueberry muffins. I slid them into the oven and set a timer, and then slumped against the flour-covered counter.
"I'm tired," I announced.
"And?" Jackie asked. He had his back to me, but I knew he was raising an eyebrow.
"And I want to complain about life because it's too hot for anything else," I snapped. Jackie laughed.
"Well, you're not getting out of wearing your hood," he said. I groaned.
Ever since the Peacekeepers found our gang's hideout and blew it up, Jackie and I had been twice as careful. We changed our identities, moved to the other side of the district, and opened a business. But we still sold all sorts of illegal substances. I was the dealer; Jackie was the planner and the buyer.
When we opened the bakery, several people were already waiting outside. I learned to bake from my adoptive mother and no one in the district was better than her. So our baked goods were almost irresistible.
Most of my memories of Carlyn and Dacie, my adopted parents, were positive. They gave me everything and I loved them wholeheartedly. But when they finally conceived and had a biological daughter, they loved me less. Finally, I snapped. I said horrible things to Carlyn; things I wished I could take back. But instead of apologizing, I ran. That was how I met Jackie.
Back then, I was Adelyn Harloy. He was Jackson Morse. Now, we were Adera and Jackie Laurier. I wasn't the girl Carlyn and Dacie loved. And I wasn't the girl who naively joined a gang either. I was a baker, a dealer, and a badass.
By mid-day, we were mostly sold out. That meant it was time to start my second shift. Upstairs in our little apartment above the bakery, I slipped on my black jacket, pulled up the hood, and covered the lower half of my face with a gray bandana. I was unrecognizable to anyone who didn't know what to look for.
I slung my backpack over my shoulder and set off for the Trainwreck, an old cluster of train sheds that had been rocked by some sort of disaster years ago. Now it was home to District 6's biggest black market.
I weaved through the crowd of people and finally leaned up against a wall near Laura's stall. Laura sold meats of all kinds, but no one knew where it came from. No one asked either.
My first customer was familiar. I didn't know his name, but I dealt with him almost every week. He staggered over and I slipped him his fix. He paid me and wandered off, clearly drunk or high or both.
Most of my customers were people who knew to come to me, and today was no different. Until I spotted the unusually clean clothes of a tall, broad-shouldered man coming my way. I tensed as he approached.
Someone jostled him as they went by and I caught a glimpse of metal under his jacket. I bolted, dashing behind Laura's stall and beginning to weave through boxes and containers and stalls and people.
I could hear the man pursuing me, but I was a lot quicker. I hurtled past a crate filled with flour sacks, which I knocked over. I heard the man curse loudly, but then I was outside and sprinting towards one of my hideouts.
I darted into the old cement outhouse and bolted the door. Then I crouched down to catch my breath. But I couldn't help the quiet laughter that spilled out of me. Those awful Peacekeepers would never get ahold of me.
Tea Reed, 16
District 7 Female
Worry and frustration gnawed at me as I hurried down the street. In my pocket, I was tightly clutching the money I stole from Aunt Wilma's wallet. I wanted to get to the Flower Lady's cart before anyone else did.
Though her hands shook and she was mostly blind, the Flower Lady grew and sold the most beautiful flowers in District 7. She made stunning bouquets and arrangements and knew the meaning behind every blossom.
When I saw her small cart my shoulders relaxed. No one was there. I rushed over and gave her my biggest smile.
"Hi," I said cheerfully. "I need some flowers."
"Hello dear," the Flower Lady said in a scratchy voice. "What is the occasion?"
I felt my cheeks flush.
"A friend is upset with me and I want to bring them flowers," I admitted. She smiled.
"Excellent idea. What you'll want is hyacinths. They symbolize regret." She gestured to a cluster of stems in a metal bucket. The blossoms were blue, purple, and yellow.
"I'll get yellow ones," I said. Yellow was Joshua's favorite color. But the Flower Lady shook her head.
"Yellow hyacinths mean jealousy. You want blue or purple."
I bit down on the inside of my cheek. Jealousy. It would be fitting, but not great to give to Joshua. If he'd just told me had a girlfriend, none of this would have happened! And his stupid mom wouldn't even let me apologize.
"Purple then," I told her. The Flower Lady carefully chose several stems and wrapped them in brown paper. She tied a lacy green ribbon around the bundle to hold it closed and then set the bouquet on the counter. I handed her the money and she smiled, showing me her crooked teeth.
"I hope your friend forgives you," she said.
"Me too," I grumbled. "Me too."
Walking to Mayor McGregor's house was even more nerve-wracking than going to the Flower Lady. Ever since my meltdown, Mayor McGregor stationed Peacekeepers outside her house and wouldn't let Joshua out without guards either. It was crazy. She was so paranoid!
The Peacekeepers turned to look at me as I approached.
"Get lost," the taller one said when I came up to him.
"I'm not going to hurt anyone," I said, blinking my big eyes and giving him a hopeful pout. "I just want to give these flowers to Mayor McGregor."
"Sorry kid, you aren't allowed in," the Peacekeeper said. "The mayor doesn't want you around. So, scram."
"You don't know what you're talking about," I snapped. "She loves me. She's like a mother figure. She'll be mad if you don't let me in."
"Kid, you threatened to kill her son and his girlfriend," the other Peacekeeper said, speaking for the first time. "She literally threw you out. She doesn't love you."
Tears started spilling down my cheeks and I threw the flowers on the ground.
"She does love me! She does!" I screamed, stomping violently on the blossoms. "They're the only ones who love me!"
"If you keep screaming like that, no one is going to like you, nevermind love you," the first Peacekeeper said. I screamed in rage and started pummeling his armor with my fists.
"I have no home! I have no family! You are a monster! You don't care about me!" I screeched and shrieked, even as the Peacekeepers grabbed my arms and started dragging me away. I fought them as best I could, but I could barely see through my tears. I was a blubbering mess when they dumped me at the end of the road.
"If we see you here again, we won't be so forgiving," one of them warned. Then they marched back to their positions, leaving me sitting in the road. I put my hands over my ears and screamed and screamed and screamed.
Hi everyone! I hope you're all having a good weekend, and I hope you're ready for the next set of Passage intros, because here they are! Thank you to Willuna for Anahira, TheWatcherofTheVoid for Diesel, KitKathy520 for Adera, and cassy2002xo for Tea. I had a blast writing them all. A lot of these guys have detailed backstories I haven't completely revealed, but don't worry - I will get to it! Also, I am not super familiar with Māori culture, though I've tried to do as much research as possible. So if anything about Anahira's POV is inaccurate or offensive, I sincerely apologize and I will do my best to fix it.
With that being said, please leave a review and let me know your thoughts on these four!
QUESTIONS
1) Which tribute did you like the most? Why?
2) Which tribute did you like the least? Why?
3) Out of the eight tributes introduced, who do you see going the furthest?
Have a nice day, be kind to each other, and never stop reading!
- Fiona
