I Don’t Know

“C’mon, it’s Reaping Day. You gonna show up with leaves in your hair again,” Treech said, flicking a strand of her hair.

Lamina, ever soft-spoken, replied, “I’ll be down soon. Just need a minute.” She turned back to staring at the sky. Treech couldn't understand why she liked looking at it, but it made her happy.

Treech could sense she wasn’t in the mood to talk. Lamina always took Reaping Day hard. He decided it’d be best to give her space, “All right, I’m off, see you after.” He said, patting her knee before beginning to climb down.

When he reached the ground, he was out of breath. He honestly did not know how Lamina could climb so high. Making his way back to the trail, he wondered if he should stop by the market and pick up something nice for dinner. It’d be a nice way to celebrate.

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When he arrived home, a warm bath was waiting for him. He scrubbed off the grime that collected while he was out and about. It always surprised Treech how much could accumulate out in the forest.

When finished, he slips on one of his dressier shirts and a worn gray blazer. While he’s adjusting his appearance in the mirror, his mom walks up behind him.

“You look handsome,” his mom says, pinching his cheek affectionately.

A smile stretched across Treech’s face, making him feel like a young boy again.

His mom walked over to the dresser, pulling out his dad’s old hat, “I want you to wear this,” she said as she placed it on his head.

Feeling choked up, Treech nodded, pulling his mom into a hug, “I’ll see you after.”

Walking out the door, he followed the rest of District 7 to the reaping

square. Having to stand in the crowded square was his least favorite part of the reaping…well, besides possibly getting picked. Treech’s thoughts couldn’t help but trail to Lamina; she hated crowds more than him, and he wondered how she was holding up.

Treech scanned the crowd for her. He spotted her near the edge of the girl section. Fear is plastered across her face as she fidgets nervously. “Nothing bad is going to happen to you.” Treech wishes he could whisper to her.

After what feels like an eternity, the mayor steps on stage and begins to read. Treech doesn’t bother to pay attention anymore; it's the same story every year. He only tunes back in when it’s time to draw the girls’ names.

The mayor reached in and dug through the slips of paper before pulling one out. He crossed back over to the microphone and read out the name, Lamina. You could’ve heard a pin drop. It was so silent.

Someone might as well have punched him in the stomach. He can’t breathe. The mayor must’ve read the slip wrong, Treech repeated like a mantra. They can’t have called Lamina. He almost convinced himself that was the case until a familiar auburn stumbled out of the crowd.

Treech felt the panic rising in his chest. He’d never felt this helpless before. She looked so fragile standing on the stage. He nearly sobbed when he saw she did have leaves in her hair. Everything in him was screaming at him to grab her and shield her from all the bad in the world.

Lamina couldn’t die for them. He won’t be able to handle watching her become another unwilling sacrifice for the Capitol.

Please, don’t take her away from me.

He was too lost in thought to even notice when the mayor moved on to the boys until he heard his name ringing across the square. A numbness settled in him; he felt as if he were in a dream, looking down on everything, not even in control of his body as he made his way to the stage.

Once on stage, he thinks that he’s never felt more exposed. The entirety of District 7’s eyes are on him. Next to him, he can feel Lamina’s sobs coming out in full force. Wanting to provide some comfort, he reached his hand for her to hold. She took it and gripped it as if it were her lifeline.

His own tears threatened to spill out. They were being sent to the Hunger Games. Oh god, he doesn't want to die…not like this.

He was too in shock to even fight back when the Peacekeepers dragged them off stage and tossed them towards the station. Lamina surprised him, though she fought them every step of the way, squirming against their grip.

Despite her struggle and his lack thereof, it didn’t matter because the Peacekeepers shoved them inside a cattle cart and locked the doors, leaving them in the dark.

Treech, also watching, said, “Y’know, I think I’d rather take my chances in the arena than have to talk to him.”

“Don’t be an ass! He doesn't look that bad,” you say while trying and failing to suppress your laugh.

He raised an eyebrow, staring at you as if you’ve just said the sky is green. “If you say so,” he teased.

The interview, or whatever you want to call it, was cut short when the metal doors swung open, and a group of Peacekeepers marched in, dragging Coriolanus out.

“Do you think he was even supposed to be in here?” You asked as you watched him get dragged out.

“Course not,” Treech smirked, “he looked ready to piss himself when he realized this was being recorded.” He said, once again making you laugh. For a minute, everything felt normal. If you close your eyes, you could pretend you are back home at the market laughing with your friends.

As the day went on, more and more people started showing up. There must’ve been a crowd of about one hundred people when you spotted the familiar red uniform. At first, you thought it was Coriolanus, but as he got closer, you saw that it was a boy with dark brown hair.

He was carrying a large backpack, which was full of food. The boy pulled a sandwich from the bag and tried to coax Marcus, the boy from Two, to take it. He wasn’t having much luck, though. Marcus wouldn’t even acknowledge him.

You were much more inclined to trust him than Coriolanus. Something about him seemed genuine, kinder even. Maybe if you approached him, he’d give you food. It couldn’t hurt to try.

Treech as if sensing your thoughts grabbed your arm. He shook his head at you, saying, “We can’t trust him. He’s Capitol.”

You wanted to argue but decided it wasn’t worth the headache. Treech could be painfully stubborn when he wanted to be.

Coriolanus came by later in the day and seated himself by the bars. A sting of jealousy hit you when you saw him hand Lucy Gray a sandwich. Why hadn’t your mentor shown up?

You didn’t have to wallow for long because Lucy Gray yelled, “You all should get one. They’re real good! Go on, Jessup!”

Her district partner, Jessup, slowly approached the boy with the sandwiches and took one from his hand. He waited until a plum followed and then walked off without a word.

Emboldened, you sprung up, pulling Treech along with you. Rushing to the fence where the boy gave each of you a sandwich and a plum. Satisfied, you walked back to the rocky patch you’d been sitting at. It’s a good thing you got there early because, within a minute, the backpack was almost depleted by the other tributes.

You had to resist the urge to devour the sandwich, forcing yourself to savor every bite. Who knew when your next meal would be? You had to enjoy it while it lasted.

As the sun set, the crowd thinned, and everyone started to settle in for the night. Most tributes opted to stay in the place they’d claimed the first day. Everybody was getting increasingly ill-tempered, yourself included, the more days you spent trapped in the zoo.

Almost on cue, two boys started fighting over a bale of hay, but Marcus broke them up. His display of strength unsettled you. How could you win against that?

I mean, you could handle an ax. Which already left you better off than most tributes. But you weren’t an expert by any means. If you had to face Marcus in the arena, you’d have no chance. Just thinking of the arena made you uneasy. Seeking comfort, you nestled up next to Treech. Letting his steady heartbeat lull you to sleep

The sun beating down on the enclosure stirred you from your slumber. Your eyes flickered open, but the influx of light has you snapping them shut again.

“Mornin,” Treech whispered, his voice still groggy.

“Mmm..too early,” you grumbled, burrowing your head deeper into his chest.

Running on a limited amount of sleep, you didn’t feel up to do anything besides stay curled up behind the rock. The morning passed by uneventfully, with few visitors stopping by. Until Peacekeepers came and corralled you onto a truck. They offered no explanation as to where you were going.

After a short ride, they unloaded all of you at a large building. You were escorted by Peacekeepers who outnumbered you two to one, which you felt was overkill, considering you had heavy shackles attached to your wrists and ankles. They led you to a table and then chained you with concrete weights, telling you to wait for your mentors.

Without much to do, you tilted your head back and surveyed the hall. It was a beautiful space with marble columns, arched windows, and a vaulted ceiling. You should feel awed, you’d never see anything like this in Seven, but it only made you miss home even more.

You glanced over to Treech, but before you could say anything, the doors opened, and twenty-four teenagers marched out. You wondered which one would be your mentor. You hoped they actually cared, but you doubted it, considering they hadn’t visited.

A tall boy who must be your mentor approached your table, sitting in the chair across from you. He introduced himself as “Pliny Harrington”. He seemed nice enough, if not a bit tactless. Maybe this won’t be that bad you allowed yourself to hope.

It was that bad. You were ready to tear your hair by the end of the session. You misheard one question, and Pliny spent the rest of the time talking to you like a toddler. The most infuriating part was his self-satisfied grin because he was so sure he was being helpful.

When the whistle blew to signal the end of the session, you could’ve cried with relief. Even as the Peacekeepers rounded you back into the truck, you were just glad to be done. You’d had enough interactions with Capitol folks to last you a lifetime.

In the truck, you find yourself sitting next to Lucy Gray while she stares at you with a unreadable expression. You are not sure what to make of her.

“Hi...you’re Lucy Gray, right?” you say, wondering why she’s staring at you.

“The one and only,” she quipped back.

Over her shoulder, you could see Treech watching you, his eyes flitting between you and Lucy Gray, unsure if it was a friendly conversation. You shot him a smile, letting him know you were okay.

Lucy Gray must’ve caught the interaction because she gave you a knowing look. She leaned in and whispered, “So, what’s up with you and your district partner?”

Startled, your eyes scanned the others to make sure no one had heard, “What do you mean?”

She shrugged, “You two seem very close, plus he gets this glint in his eyes when he looks at you.”

You glanced up, and sure enough, Treech was still staring at you. He looked startled to have been caught again and looked away. “He’s just—we’ve just been friends for a while,” you say, though your voice has an annoyingly hopeful twinge to it.

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that…well, you at least like him, don’t you?” She asked.

The expression on your face must answer her question because she gave you a pitying smile. Are you really that obvious? You must be. Because it seems everyone, but Treech knew at this point. Even his brothers would tease you about it.

When you arrived back at the zoo, a crowd waited for you. Morning attendance was scarce, but now visitors were pouring in. Annoyed, you tried to hide yourself behind a rock to escape prying eyes.

“What were you and Twelve talkin’ about?” Treech asked, plopping himself beside you.

“It’s a secret,” you say, winking at him, hoping he doesn’t see right through you. Wanting to change the topic, you ask, “How was your mentor?”

He winced at your question “She was very irritating,” he replied. By the look on his face, he was clearly holding himself back from saying anything meaner. “How was yours?”

“God, don’t get me started,” you groan. “He talked to me like I was a five-year-old the whole time!”

You didn’t even think it was possible, but somehow, more people came as the day progressed. Unsurprisingly, Lucy Gray was by the bars entertaining the crowd. What caught your eye, though, was they seemed to be passing her food. The thought of begging for scraps made you flush with humiliation. But it was slowly becoming evident that if you wanted to eat, you’d need to perform.

Other tributes realized this as well. The girl from District 9 did a back handspring, which was rewarded with applause and a bread roll. You stared longingly at the bread, what you would give for a bite.

“Are you hungry?” Treech asked, his mouth turned into a frown.

“I’m fine,” you say, not wanting to worry him.

Treech stared at you blankly, making it clear he didn’t believe you. He stood up, fetching three walnuts off the floor, and marched up to the crowd. He made a good show of juggling the walnuts and keeping the crowd entertained. He was rewarded with a bread roll and an apple.

Once he’s finished, he tipped his hat at the crowd before rushing back to you. He looked pleased with himself as he offered the food to you.

You immediately protested, “No! Don’t worry about me. I’m not that hungry anyway.” In embarrassingly perfect timing, your stomach lets out a growl.

Treech face broke out into a smile, holding out the food again. Sighing in defeat, you ripped a chunk off the bread. As you sat eating, you heard the crowd laughing. When you turned toward the noise, you saw one of the mentors holding out a sandwich in front of her tribute to the girl from Ten, only to pull it away at the last second, much to the crowd’s amusement.

“That’s awfully cruel,” you mumbled, clutching your food protectively to your chest. You tried to block out the noise. No point in making yourself needlessly upset.

However, shrieks coming from the audience members had you snapping your head back towards the bars. You saw the girl from Ten holding a bloody knife. The Capitol girl's face was drained of color as she dropped the sandwich and clawed at her neck. Blood was pouring from her neck and down her fingers as the District 10 girl released her and gave her a small shove.

The Capitol girl stepped back, turning and reaching out, imploring the audience for help. People were either too stunned or too scared to respond. Many drew away as she fell to her knees and began to bleed out. You held no love for the Capitol, but you couldn’t help but pity the girl. It was a horrible way to die.

Coriolanus rushed towards the Capitol girl. Shouting for a medic. He must know her. Your heart dropped when you saw Peacekeepers shouldering their way toward the enclosure. The gunshots sounded almost immediately after. Bullets were fired into the cage without care of who they hit.

You sit stunned for a second as you watch the bullets pierce the District 10 girl's body. Treech practically throws himself toward you, pushing you behind the rock. The bullets continued firing, flying just past your heads.

Even when the gunshots died down, you and Treech remained on the ground. Both of you clinging tightly to one another. After enough time passed, you peeked out and saw soldiers swarming the place, clearing out the last remnants of the audience. Without warning, they swarmed the enclosure, dragging all of you to the back of the cage and lining you up with your hands on top of your heads.

As you stood there, you wondered if they were going to shoot all of you and get it over with. Maybe it would be easier if you died now. At least it would be quick.

One of the Peacekeepers took out a set of keys to unlock the train, and the rest started shoving you in. Treech acted quickly, lugging himself in and stretching his arm out to help you up. But it must’ve taken too long because a peacekeeper grabbed you by the back of the neck and tossed you onto the train. You barely managed to catch yourself.

Treech rushed to your side, pulling you up off the ground. “Are you alright? Did they hurt you?” he questioned as he cupped your face, eyes scanning you for injuries.

“I’m fine, just tired of being treated like a sack of flour.” You chuckled bitterly while rubbing your neck.

District Seven was one of the last districts to get picked up, so you didn’t have to spend nearly as long on the train as other districts. A thought that filled you with relief when you felt something crawling near your feet. You could vaguely see the outlines of the other tributes. Though none of them made much noise. You could almost believe you were alone.

As the train chugged along, you and Treech shuffled over to an empty corner, trying to get comfortable. He grabs your hand and plays with it gently, his fingers interlocking with yours. Something about the action brings tears to your eyes. You never considered your hands pretty, filled with callouses from hours of demanding work, but by the way, he holds them, they might as well be made of porcelain.

When you first spoke to Treech, you’d quite literally fallen for him. Despite being in the same class, you’d never directly spoken. He was always surrounded by his friends, his laugh filling up the room (not that you were paying attention). You mostly kept to yourself. Honestly, you don’t know what made him approach you that day, but you’re so grateful he did.

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“What are you doing?” a small voice exclaimed up at you.

You jumped at the sudden noise and slipped from the branch you were perched on. You weren’t very high up, but the impact left you gasping for breath.

As you lay on the ground, your vision was blurred, but you could make out a boy peering down at you. His eyes narrowed slightly in concern.

After you regained your bearings, you grumbled, “Well, before you interrupted me, I was drawing.”

“Oh…Sorry,” the boy chuckled awkwardly. He fidgeted slightly before asking, “Can I see your drawing? I’m Treech, by the way. We go to school together…In case you don’t know who I am.”

You wanted to roll your eyes. Of course, you knew who Treech was. You lived across from each other and were in the same class. You decided not to mention that, hoping to spare yourself the embarrassment of him not noticing.

“I know who you are, and no, you can’t see,” you respond before climbing back up the tree.

You were going to continue sketching until you noticed he was still standing there looking oddly dejected. A wave of guilt hits you when you realize you may have come off as rude.

“Hey, sorry... I didn’t mean it like that. I’ll show you when I’m done if you want to join me,” you say before patting the branch.

Treech perked up at that, beaming up at you. You decide he looks much nicer when smiling. He climbed up the tree, plopping himself next to you. Neither of you talked after that. You continued to sketch, and he sat with you, swinging his legs back and forth.

Soon enough, it became routine that whenever you went to the tree, he’d be there waiting for you. You started talking at school as well. Slowly, he became a constant presence in your life. Now, years later, you can confidently say he’s your best friend.

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The sound of the whistleblowing snapped you back to the present. You must be arriving at a station. The train screeched as it came to a halt. From the outside, you could hear the chains rattling as they were unlocked. The doors slid open, and the District One tributes were staring back at you. In what felt like seconds, they were hastily thrown into the cart, and the door was locked once again.

The journey to the Capitol couldn’t have taken much longer, but it felt like an eternity in the damp train. Eventually, you heard the familiar whistle, and the train slowed to a stop. The tributes started shuffling, but the minutes passed, and nothing happened. At least another ten minutes must’ve passed before you heard banging against the doorframe. The door was wrenched open, and a peacekeeper shouted, “All right, you lot, let’s move!”

The sudden influx of light was nearly blinding. You had to take a moment to adjust. Treech is one step ahead of you, already jumping down before offering you his arms. You allow him to take you by the waist and swing you down to the pavement.

You were grateful for Treech’s quick reaction as you watched the Peacekeepers get rougher the longer it took the remaining tributes to crawl out. You take a moment to look around under different circumstances, you’d be gawking at the architecture, but that all feels insignificant now. While looking around, you see a boy dressed in red talking to one of the tributes. He looks too clean to be a tribute but too skinny to be a Peacekeeper.

You didn’t get much time to ponder who he was because Peacekeepers began herding you and the rest of the tributes across the station to the main entrance. Where a truck that looked more like a cage on wheels awaited you.

The tribute who is missing part of his arm, tried to make a run for it, but he didn’t even make a few feet before he was dragged back. You hopped onto the cramped van, and Treech immediately guided you into one of the last open seats before positioning himself next to you.

From the corner of your eye, you saw a flash of red jump moments before the doors closed. To your surprise, it was the boy from the train station. A thick tension settled over the truck as you all stared him down. He hunched over, realizing his precarious situation. You turned your head to meet Treech’s eyes. Both of you amused at the boy's obvious discomfort.

“What’s the matter, pretty boy? You in the wrong cage?” said the boy from District 11 Reaper, if you remember correctly. How ironic, you can’t help but think.

You missed what the Capitol boy said, but it must've been something insulting because, in the blink of an eye, Reaper’s hands encircled the boy's throat and slammed him back. Reaper’s forearms pinned the other boy’s body against the bars. Trying to keep himself from being killed, the Capitol boy drove his knee up hard into Reaper’s crotch. You wanted to laugh, but you doubt that would’ve been received well.

He might kill you now.” The girl from District 11 coughed out. “He killed a Peacekeeper back in Eleven. They never found out who did it.”

“Shut it, Dill,” the boy growled.

“Who cares now?” said the girl fro—Dill.

“Let’s all kill him,” said another voice, “Can’t do nothing worse to us.”

You wouldn’t consider yourself bloodthirsty, but a part of you agreed, besides the Capitol boy brought it on himself. Several other tributes also murmured in agreement and took a step in. The way the boy went rigid with fear almost made you pity him.

Before anyone could do anything, the rainbow girl spoke up. “Not to us, maybe. You got family back home? Someone they could punish there?”

With that, all the anger was sucked out of you, replaced with a gaping hopelessness. The girl then stood up and wriggled through to place herself between all of you and the Capitol boy.

“Besides,” she said, “he’s my mentor. Supposed to help me. I might need him.”

“How come you get a mender?” Snapped a girl with short red hair. Glaring daggers into the Capitol boy. You couldn’t help but agree. Why did she get extra help?

“Mentor. You each get one,” he corrected.

“Where are they, then?” The redhead challenged. “Why didn’t they come?”

“Just not inspired, I guess,” the rainbow girl replied before winking at her mentor.

You turned to Treech again and dramatically rolled your eyes. The small smile that graced his face filled your chest with warmth. Sometimes, you wished he wasn’t so good-looking. You hated that one smile was all it took to make butterflies swarm your stomach.

The conversation lulled, and silence filled the truck as it drove down the winding roads. Suddenly, the truck lurched to a stop, jerking all of you forward. At that moment you were grateful you had nothing in your stomach because you’d surely have thrown it up.

A Peacekeeper came and opened the back door to the truck, but before anyone could climb out, the cage tipped and dumped you onto a slab of cold, damp cement. Not a slab, actually more like a chute, it was tilted at such an extreme angle that all of you began to slide immediately. You all traveled a good twenty feet before landing in a jumbled heap on the floor.

You gingerly untangled from the others before making your way over to Treech. Cringing at the groans from the tributes you accidentally crawled on top of.

You brushed his hair back and readjusted his hat, “Treech,” you whispered, “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, don't worry” he responded as he pulled you into his arms. You allow yourself to relax, nuzzling into his shoulder. Trying to calm down from the chaos of the day.

It isn’t until you hear a small giggle that you turn around and see two young girls pointing at the two of you. They watch you through metal bars, gawking. You pull away slightly, feeling oddly self-conscious. Treech seems to notice as well, looking equally uncomfortable.

Confused, you start to scan the area. Metal bars enclose you. To your left, there is a cluster of thin trees, and rocky sand lines the ground. Suddenly a nauseating realization hits you.

They’d put you in a fucking zoo.

You stand there trying to remember how to breathe, totally stunned. The blood in your body is frozen. The minutes tick by, but you cannot bring yourself to move. You can faintly hear the crowd murmuring, but the ringing in your ears overpowers them. It isn’t until someone nudges you that you are brought back to your body and slowly start to walk through the crowd. It feels like you are walking to your grave.

Once you find your place by the mayor, your eyes begin scanning the boys' section, hoping to find Treech. As if by just looking at him, everything would somehow be okay. When you spot him, he’s already staring at you. His eyes were full of what you can only describe as pure heartbreak.

You’re too distracted to notice when the mayor walks to the second bowl. Until the second familiar name of the day is called, it feels like someone’s punched a hole in your chest as you watch the blood drain from Treech’s face. The shock of the moment barely registers in your mind. How can this be happening? Out of thousands of slips, your names get drawn!

The boys stir and make a path for Treech as he walks robotically towards the stage. His eyes never break contact with yours. As you watch him ascend the stairs, you fear you might start crying, the tears burning the back of your eyes. Before you can stop it, a soft, choked noise escapes you.

The pitying eyes of your district make you want to scream. An hour ago, you still had a future, and now you were a dead girl walking. You feel weightless like the slightest breeze will whisk you away. Part of you wishes it would. Your only anchor is when Treech reaches out and firmly grips your hand, a silent promise to stay by each other's side no matter what.