#apogsidetask2

This year a girl from district 1 (what a shocker) was the one to win the heart of the Capitolies and to get out alive of the Arena. The way she killed her fellow tributes, by using that whip, had quite an impact in the district 3 citizens, but I think it was entertaining. If you have to kill, better be original, am I right? Anyways, of course I was pushed to go and take part of the party.

The minute I arrived to the Justice Building I saw the same confusion as always, everyone busy with the preparations.  “Aren’t you excited kids!?” Mom asks, looking at Rover and I. This is the last year my younger brother was safe from the reaping, and you could realize that just be looking at his terrified face when Ruby Dalton appears in the balcony.

People clap, the families that lost they loved ones stare at the ground and I just roll my eyes. The speech never changes a lot, they talk about our fantastic electronic devices and try to avoid that fact that we’re one of the first districts to rebel. Like people just don’t know that… And I’m sure some of them are waiting for a new hero, a rebellion that would stop it all. My parents fear those people more than anything. I’m still trying to create an opinion, but I’m very inclined for a new war with those Capitolines.

I had watched the games this year, like every year. My uncle didn't want to draw more attention to us by not watching the games and by not participating in district-wide festivities. For this Victory Tour, like any other, it was required for the whole district to watch as the winner gave their speech. Ruby something, I knew that her first name was Ruby. She had killed the boy from my district, he was a young one, only 13 when he was sent into the arena. His family was in the back of the crowd, the mother sobbing incoherently.

Her speech was nothing special, obviously scripted words about how she won and her emotion-less apologies for the lost lives from our district. We all knew that she wasn't sorry, she wasn't sorry now and she wasn't sorry when she watched the life drain out of the kids she killed when her whip wrapped around their necks.

Halfway through, I looked at the stage and realized that the peacekeeper who had killed my parents was standing next to her, watching for violence. I couldn't control my breathing and I knew that a flashback was coming. Blare grabbed my arm and pulled me to the edge of the crowd, crouching in front of me and commanding me to breathe and to think through it. This usually happened when we went to a district meeting because of the horrors that stage held for me. I was so young. The colors began to blur to greys and blacks and I saw the people around me fading away.

After watching all the games leading up to this one, it wasn't the best. It was good just not the best. I just expected more out of a career. Unfortunately for me today was the day that she visited District 6. It also happened to be the day that I was rushing to finish a clay model of my newest assignment. Designing vehicles for safe peacekeeper transport. It was relaxing but not as relaxing when I have a deadline. Also being forced to go to this event has not put me in good spirits. My boss got direct orders from the Capitol to make all head workers go to this event to enforce good district morale. Well fuck that shit. I'm running on a deadline and I have to go check on my brother at the hospital. I'm not going to bother going home to see my father. He would just groan and wave me away like he's dismissing me.

I had my presentable outfit on. Presentable meaning I was wearing a tan and white dress. I was minutes away from finishing when my boss came in to rush me. Does he not realize that he cannot rush perfection. Clay models take time and precision. God bless him that I was just being a perfectionist. I told him it's been done for an hour already. I just had little details that were annoying me. I put my tools into my bag then wiped my hands on my dress. Wait...FUCK why did I do that. Oh freaking well.

I washed the remaining clay from my hands and ran out. Thankfully the hospital was a few blocks away. I preferred using my legs as transportation. Ironic isn't it?

Once I arrived at the hospital, I went straight to the morphling floor. A friend of mine named Pete is one of the caretakers. They try to wane them off of morphine but some are just too far gone that they don't even try. Petes shift was technically over but he waited there since he had to go see Ruby as well. I got on my tip toes and gave Pete a peck on the cheek. "Thanks for waiting. I'll be out in a sec."

Harlen was one of the morphlings who were too far gone. I spotted him in a corner looking out the window. He smiled when he saw me.

"Haven." he said with a smile.

"Hey dude, How are you holding up?"

"Eh."

That eh was one of our code words. It meant he wanted to get out of here. He liked it better at home but understood I had work.

"I wish I could take you with me bro, I'll be back for you soon okay."

He nodded. I went on my way.

Pete was waiting at the elevator. Let me not discuss the relationship with Pete.

We rushed out of the hospital and into the town square. It was already packed. I grabbed Pete's hand and dragged him with me to meet my boss.  I made my presence known then not so nicely asked if I could leave. He gave me his classic hell no gaze and made me listen to Ruby.

She went on and on about her experience in the arena. The broadcasters ate it up like it was candy. After that very irritating speech, my boss told me I was to introduce myself to Ruby. Hell fucking no. But then he threatened to fire me and I was all smiles. However once I came face to face with Ruby I failed to hide my look of disgust.

"Haven Finch. Lead drafter from well here."

"Victor Ruby from One. What's the face for?"

"Eh I don't really like you. Nothing personal."

She then had the nerve to step closer to me. She was overly perfumed and made over. The smell made me want to throw up.

"You know I could kill you right?"

"You know I have sharp and pointy art tools in my bag that would mess up that face of yours. Don't even go there Ruby. Your title means very little in my book."

I looked to my boss. "I introduced myself. Can I go now?"

"Yeah it would be better if you did. We will talk about this tomorrow."

"Sure we will." I looked to Ruby and winked. "Pleasure meeting you."

“You better hurry up yourself. I don’t even know why you want to go anyways,” he hissed and turned back around, plunging his hands deep into his coat pocket and scowling. “They wouldn’t care if we ditched it, they’re not gonna keep track of who shows up.” He rolled his eyes and continued walking, his leather boots splashing through a few shallow, dirty puddles from the rain that had occurred mere hours ago.

“It’s interesting, dimwit,” Gavin quipped and began to jog lightly, catching up with him and tapping him quickly on the shoulder. “What’s wrong with you today?” He asked as Lysander turned around with a less-than-joyful expression on his face.

“Just because I don’t want to spend my morning staring at some preppy District One whore who decided to talk for too long doesn’t mean I’m in a bad mood,” Lysander said and brushed Gavin’s hand off of his shoulder. Did he feel a drop of rain on his worn coat sleeve, or was it just him?

“Piss off, Gavin,” Lark called out from behind both of them, and Lysander had to stifle a smile. “You’re the one who’s making us go to this, so don’t blame Lysander for being annoyed. He’s not the only one.” Gavin rolled his eyes and began to trudge forward through the mud, small splashes of the disgusting stuff splashing on Lysander’s jacket.

“God, would you stop splashing?” Lysander asked pointedly. “This is my father’s, he’s going to kill me if he notices there’s dirt on it.” Brushing off some of the dirt, he flicked a tiny stone at Gavin, who dodged it expertly and continued walking.

“If he’s sober enough to notice,” Lennox said in a low voice from beside Lark, chuckling darkly and staring at Lysander as if to challenge him.

“You know I can hear you, right?” Lysander rolled his eyes. “And wasn’t it your father who thought your kitchen table was a horse the other day?” He asked dryly, speaking to Lennox but not looking at him. Lennox paused for a moment, then shoved Lysander towards the edge of the road, who caught himself and straightened his jacket. “Piss off,” Lennox growled, and Lysander pushed him off and rolled his eyes, knowing he wasn’t serious.

He could hear vague giggling from the back and immediately guessed [correctly] that it was Lark, who was silenced with a harsh look from her brother, Lennox, who put his head down and continued walking the familiar path towards the Justice Building.

Lysander’s shoes occasionally scuffed against a stray stone or two, and he kicked them along the road for a while, reveling in the harsh sound of gravel and his feet hit the ground.

“When does it start?” Erza asked, coughing in the middle of his question and then quickly regaining his composure, his boyish blue eyes shining with a strange sort of happiness that was rare in their lives.

“Soon,” Lennox answered, irritated, and the group soon fell into silence until they reached the Justice Building.

The Victor of the last Games was a familiar face, a face that had haunted every child from Nine’s dreams from the moment she gruesomely slaughtered her first tribute in the arena. Lysander shuddered vaguely as he remembered her first (or was it her second?—they were so hard to keep track of) victim, and his stomach turned even more unpleasantly as he remembered what she had done to win.

Her speech consisted of nothing special, simple pomp and circumstance. She spoke of pride to her country, to her district, and how honored she was at having been chosen to compete in the Games. She glorified the arena, saying how it had been a wonderful experience and something worth doing. Only if you get out alive, Lysander thought ferociously as if that would make a difference. Of course she would get out alive: she was a perfect little District One jewel, probably trained since the age of seven.

“You think she’d still say the same if she had been reaped?” Lysander asked, his voice nothing but a low growl in Lark’s ear.

“She’d be sobbing if she’d been reaped,” Lark spat out and stared up at the stage with a hateful expression as if that could make the Victor feel pain.

He didn’t remember much about the Games. He had only caught vague snippets of it the few days he went to school, or at Lennox’s house when his parents weren’t home. But he had seen enough to know of this woman, this, this girl’s soul, if she even had one. That must be the explanation, Lysander reasoned. No other human could watch with a child’s curiosity at the sound of a choking equal. No human could hum and walk away merrily from a dead body, especially if the human in question had killed them.

He had most certainly seen enough to despise her.

“District Nine,” the announcer read, and Lysander could hear the distaste in his voice. District Nine. District Nine was nothing, merely an extension of District Eleven. They weren’t good for anything, only the food that they didn’t even get to eat. The announcer cleared his throat and tried again. “District Nine, I present to you, the Fourteenth Annual Hunger Games’ Victor!” The words hung in the air as if expecting applause.

Slowly and unsurely, the citizens began to clap.                                                                            

“Can you go to hell for hating someone?” Lysander muttered under his breath, his voice choking up briefly but then clearing.

And don’t get me wrong. I have empathy for those who win the Hunger Games. Because I can imagine how hard it to go into that arena and kill people and come back to reality trying to forget it. Becoming a freakshow just to make the district suffer. But I have no empathy for people from one, two and four. The career . Like they call themselves. Like killing people in the arena became a profession. That sickens me.  And people are sad for them when rumor start to rise that they realize how awful this game is once in the arena. Well they wanted to be in it, live with the consequence. This is why, even if Ruby will come and cry about how the child in our district where strong and wise, I won’t drop a tear. Because I know it’s all lie. She wanted that. To became a victor and have that big house in the victor village they build. She never cared about our district. She kills them both.  So no. I won’t pity her pain right now. I never will.

After a moment, the scream of the peacekeeper stop and from what we heard they were going to hide my piece of rebellion. Anyway they couldn’t know who did that. We are a group, always acting in the shadow. They couldn’t put a name on who did this for once.  Devon pulls out his grip on me and kisses my head softly. «We did it.» He said. I laugh and punch him gently. «Pff! I did everything you were just watching around.»  We laugh and left the shed to go to my house. My parent weren’t there. We could be alone for a while.  After changing clothes and washing my hands, evidence that I was the one who wrote on the justice hall wall, I return to the living room where Devon were watching the TV, announcing Ruby’s arrival in our district in a few minutes. «Why are you watching this shit? » I ask, sitting next to him. He wraps his hand around my waist. «It was that or watching you getting undress. » I hit him gently in the stomach and laugh. I look at the clock and back to him. He was doing that smile that always made me melt. I was friend with benefit with Devon for six months now and it was perfect. Never exclusive. He was seeing other girls and I was seeing other guys. But when time was right we shared the same bed. Never jealous, only friend. And I love it that way. He was my first after all «No, I won’t give you that show now. We need to go to the justice all and act like perfect scared people.» I said. He pouts and kiss me quickly. «Pft, fine.» He said before getting up and I laugh as we walk outside the house. «Aren’t you suppose to go to Ariane tonight anyway?» He shrugs and nod. I roll my eyes «Boys» I tease.