Day Three: Lesser of Two Evils
"I just don't see why we have to!" Marina's whining now, and I need to get her to shut up. I can't think like this. "Marina, please. You know why we're doing this. Because." She rolls her eyes, hand flapping as if a speaking mouth, and I resist the urge to yell. "Because we can't do this anymore. Because we watched two children starve to death last year when the Ones decided they needed to win, and the year before."
We both shudder a little, before she continues to complain. "And I don't want to die. I know Mags thinks we were the best choice, but I don't want to go. Possy, I'm not sure about this. What if we." "We can't." I give her a gentle shove, more playful than anything, and in an instant she's on the defensive, eyes wide and hands in a position I almost have to applaud for the well drilled fighting stance she's found herself in. Still, I have to snap her back to reality. I have to. So I brush her hands to one side, one of mine on each shoulder of hers, and shake her gently.
"Come on, 'Rina, look at me. We're not going to be victims. One of us is going to win. Riches, fame, glory. It's all for this, ok? So chin up." A shake of her head, and I clap my hands next to her ears. It shakes her out of whatever fun she's immediately in, even if she looks at me with those big brown eyes and I feel the urge to apologize slip over me. Probably because she's pretty, I tell myself, and that for the moment lets the thoughts go away.
After all, it's not like there's exactly much point in causing issue this late. I need to calm her down, and to do that I step in, shaking my head and beginning to talk.
"I don't want to do this either." Anybody who did want to do this, realistically, was an idiot. A death match with a 1 in 24 chance of survival. She'd signed up because her parents had told her she had to, and with who they were. Well, it was better for her to be locked into the School of Four than kissing one of their employees. All for the good of the company and all.
Me? "I'd come here because it was the best place to be. Mother was nice, but she wasn't exactly the most present figure, and father was terrified I'd take over his fishing boat. Why I'd want that rickety old bucket, he couldn't answer. Still, it was better for me to be out of the house than to be dodging thrown insults and bottles." Even if it could make for good practice for the Games.
"So, 'Rina, I get the issue. I get that you think someone else should be doing this, that we can't. But we have to. Four needs new blood. We know what we're doing, we know that we'll get allies, we know... well, everything. So why don't you just calm down."
She gives a shaky nod, and after a moment I get a further idea. "Plus, we're District. District over allies. Shit goes south, we run. Together. If it's the final two, we can have a duel. A proper one. Honour."
She takes my hand, and I take hers. The grip is tight, as her voice is filled with... something. "And no pain. Quick and neat. We're not One." This is a sentiment I echo. "We're not One."
Sentiment in hand and knowing what will happen, we head outside. Head to the reaping, driftwood tags clasped tightly around my wrist as a district token. It looks good, and branding (as Mags told us) was important.
The first girl is reaped, and Marina hesitates. A moment, two, exho before I hear her voice. "I volunteer as tribute!" I get to watch her step up to the stage, introduce herself to deafening applause. Four knows. Four's glad their child, their children, get to survive another year. The next name is drawn. I pay no mind to it, a boy. After all, what does it matter who?
With that, I step forward, put my hand up and in one strong voice echo Marina's intentions. "I volunteer as tribute!" Stepping forward to the steps, I smile at our escort, who smiles back. Ascending the steps puts me firmly head and shoulders above her, and I step next to my partner on the stage. Our escort, Balbina or some other equally stupid name, claps, clearly pleased to have some enthusiasm for a change. "Well, then. I'd like you to give it up for our two brave volunteers! May they bring honour to their district, and see you all again very soon!"
I clasp Marina's hand in mine, guiding it up until our hands are raised. I notice the tears running down her cheeks, whether pride, excitement or sadness I can't tell. Nobody else does, and by the time we're inside I turn her around. "Hey, hey, look at me. Talk to your mom, dad, whoever, tell them you'll be back soon. One of us, yeah? One, Two won't hold us back to this one. We can win. And when one of us is back, they can help everyone."
She nods, jaw set. "Right." We're both ushered into our respective visitation rooms. A tradition the School would rather avoid, but law is law and law mandates that we have to have visitors.
That I don't get any is expected. I can hear the door opposite me thudding shut again and again, and only an hour later get to see the last distraught family member leave Marina's room. The Peacekeeper who unlocks my door, probably Two, gives a nod of respect to me, and then it's off. Off to face the real world. Off to kill children. Off to be proud of it, because at least it isn't some crying kid who had no hope of winning for Four this year.
Off to be the lesser of two evils.
