#reaping36

I held on to the younger ones’ hands as we casually walked to the Justice Building which sat by the pier. The sun was beating down on our necks, birds were squawking from all directions and the place was filled to the brim of people, wondering and waiting if the young people willing to risk their life all for the sake of pride would be victorious. Stupid. And the one thing that was even stupider than the the whole culture of Careers were the stupid escorts they send over from the Capitol. I looked at ours, Vanilla she called herself and just wanted to bash my brains out. I didn’t understand why and when she thought that it was a good idea.

Vanilla, the escort that was, dipped her hand into the large bowl and obnoxiously swirled it around before pulling out a name. 

By the time I arrived at home everyone was sat there looking bleak and depressed as fuck. "Holy shit it's just a Reaping no one has died yet." I said as I rolled my eyes, but it seemed as though my flippancy and bad language warranted my mother to slap me round the back of my head - and hard at that. I turned instinctively and narrowed my eyes at her wondering what her god damn problem was and how she thought that was at all okay, but when I saw the tears in her eyes I hung my head in shame a little and wrapped her into a hug because right here, and right now, it wasn't words that my mama needed - it was love. A part of me felt slightly obliged to check on before I left for the Reaping but I could only get too close to the gang, four of us were of Reaping age; three on our last year and Blank almost at the end. None of us have taken out tesseraes because thankfully none of them needed that shit anymore.

I walked over to Marco who was standing there, in the corner of the room looking like he was about to shit himself. “Hey mate, how are you holding up?” I said to him with a little smile on my face, compared to his quivering bottom lip. He was so scared, so scared of something that he didn’t need to worry about. If anything, I had more of a chance of being Reaped than he did - but that didn’t mean that I was going to be Reaped, and not him, or either of us for that matter. I held onto his hand as we left the house and walked to the Justice Building together, I could feel his hand shaking in mind and people’s eyes on mine but right now I didn’t care because I needed him. As the Justice Building came closer and closer, I let go of Marco’s hand and bent down to talk to him before we had to part.

“Okay, after this shit show is over you come find me at this spot right here alright? It’ll take about half an hour max and then we can have ice-cream and chill out for the day before I have to go do work yeah?” Marco nodded - reluctantly I should add before we parted ways and stood in our respective ‘pens’ so to say. Reaping Day was the extent to the power I let Peacekeeper’s have over me. Our Capitol Escort, Daisy or something walked onto the stage in these heels perhaps bigger than her hands and a skirt so short, if she walked about three steps closer to me, I’d be able to see right up it. Now I wonder why some of the guys were so ready to stand at the front of the stage. I felt a small poke at my back and turned around to see Jazzy behind me. Out of all of them, he was perhaps the one that was the most loyal. He’d lost one of his parents to the Games, his mama died and lived in the shitty orphanage. It was quite funny how we met, Caesar, Q, Clown and I were breaking into the Mayor’s house when we saw him jumping out of the window as we tried to pick lock the door - which it turned out was un-pick lockable. He’d looked at us like he’d been caught, but apparently it was perhaps the greatest moment of his life. He told me, after I recruited him that he’d been waiting to run into us, he’d heard what I was doing and decided that I wasn’t just blind robbing people - which I really was - he said that I was giving people a life, a family, something to live for. I saved his apparently by giving him a reason to steal and terrorise? I didn’t know, or understand by I appreciated his loyalty. We knew that we couldn’t acknowledge each other in public but I nodded at him and he smiled. Something he only ever did in a blue moon. By the time I’d turned around to pay attention to Daisy, her hand was already in the bowl and had pulled out the name for the female Tribute. I didn’t really know how to feel when the name ‘Elizabeth Nicholson’ was called. I kind of breathed a sigh of relief because at first I thought I didn’t know the girl, but a couple of seconds passed and I realised just who she was. Blank walked up onto the stage and I stood frozen in my spot with my mouth wide. A selfish part of me wanted Vanity to Volunteer for her - but I knew how much she hated her and was probably glad that she was being sentenced to her inevitable death.

On the stage, she just looked so strong, so powerful and a blinding rage had started to fill inside of me because I couldn’t believe they were taking another one from me. I spent so much of my time, and my life keeping my gang safe and now here we are - two of my girls taken by the one system I can’t protect them from. Daisy and her shit eating grin smiled as she clapped, and excitedly pulled out the name of the boy. I could feel Jazzy behind me, holding his breath. He was shaking with fear and holding onto me for support. I couldn’t let two of them go. But something even worse happened, they called out Marco’s name.

‘No.’

It was like a pain had taken over my whole entire body, fear had taken over my whole entire body and behind me was Jazzy breathing a sigh of relief. “That was a fucking close one wasn’t it Raf?” he whispered in my ear. I slowly turned around to face Jazzy and there was nothing but rage inside of me. “No Jazzy. It was not a close one. That is my fucking brother.” my teeth were gritted and my breathing was heavy. Marco, with his pale sickly skin, and frail body slowly walked to the stage and I shook my head. I couldn’t let this happen. Peacekeeper’s were trailing behind him and after one put his hand on his shoulder I snapped out of this bullshit self-pitying anger inside of me and stepped out of my pen.

At last the square is so packed that I can hardly move and my shifting has to stop. The Escort saunters on stage, looking like she'd recently mauled a bird and stuffed its plumage into her dress. Every year she introduces herself as Ultima Mior but I have to wonder if it's actually been the same woman each time. Doctors in the Capitol must really be talented if they can rearrange a person's face so easily.

She introduces two tired-looking Victors and then begins the film they play every year.  It’s funny. Ultima can afford to bring a new face to District Eleven every year yet it seems the Capitol is unwilling to make a new introductory film.

I'm zoned out a bit by the time she's reaching to draw the girl's name. When I hear it, no face comes to mind so I assume she must be young. But then out of nowhere this red-headed girl is marching down the aisle, volunteering with no grandeur about it. My eyes are as wide as anyone else's - volunteers are unheard of around here. I can hear mumbling from the crowd, mostly behind me in the adult's section. There's more to this girl than meets the eye, I can tell. And the way she took to the stage with no fear or pride about her makes it clear that she's worthy of respect. 

Now the time has come for the boys. My breath stops along with everyone else's around me as Ultima gropes around in the giant glass bowl. Any second now she'll call some poor soul and I will let out my breath and this horrible day will be over once again. 

But that poor soul is me. I hear my name echoing around in the silent square and I forget how to exhale. Everyone around me shifts, suddenly making room where there was none. They're so eager to get out of my way, its like they fear they'll catch my disease and be reaped as well. The breath leaves me in a shaky rasp and with it go all of my nerves. 

I puff out my chest and hold my head high, stepping into the aisle and up to the stage trying my best to look as tough as I ever have. In seconds I'm standing beside Dotev, and Ultima is saying a few final words. She instructs the two of us to shake hands. So I do it, hoping Dotev can't feel the slight quiver in my hands. 

And just like that, we're being herded into the Justice Building.

"Malia!" the door of my bedroom swung open with a loud bang that made me jump out of my own skin. Tossing the blanket from above me I turned around to find my sister dressed in a red dress. My eyes diverted from her and headed for my window; I hadn't noticed that the sun had already risen. "Dad will be furious if he finds out you stay up all night reading that book of yours!" my sister finally added. Gulping I thought of only one thing, shit.

I had been so into the book I had let time fly pass me. On a different occasion this wouldn't have worried me but today was reaping and I couldn't afford to be late, let along have father furious at me. Jumping to my feet I rushed to the shower, throwing my words at her as I passed by. "Please don't tell him, I'll be right down!"

Jumping into the shower I took the fastest shower of my life. I barely let the water touch my skin before I was already standing before my closet. I took a shower every day so it's not like I would stink and if I did, then oh well. The people of district twelve would have another reason for hating me. 

Today I was going to be among all the kids of district twelve, the last thing I wanted to do was stand out. To my right stood the dress my sister had laid out for me the night before - because she cares so much for how we look - but the dress was just too much. Biting my lip I shoved that dress to the back of my closet and instead put something that wouldn't make me stand out. All I wanted to do was fit in. Putting my hair in a tight bun I took one look at myself in the mirror before heading down to find my whole family was waiting for me. Though instead of hearing about how I was late the first thing I heard from my mother was. 

"You are not wearing that Malia."I looked down at my clothes and honestly I didn't think I looked that bad. I honestly didn't know how to respond to my mother without being rude but to my surprise my father came to my rescue. "she's already late, get going child. We'll talk when you get home."

Nodding I rushed out the door and into the empty streets. Picking up my skirt I rushed down the streets, glad no one was around. Arriving I noticed the line was short due to my lateness. My breathing came out heavy as the woman in white pricked my finger. Not even waiting for her dismissal I rushed towards my section. 

I was still trying to catch my breath as I stood in my section. Everyone around me was silent and not even my presence among them could make them talk. Right now I felt like I was standing in a graveyard and everyone around me was already mourning the unlucky two that would be reaped today. I had watched every hunger games since I was born, not a single tribute from our district had ever made it out alive in those sixteen years. Even though we knew it wasn't impossible to win due that we had three victors already, in fact we even have the only love couple to ever make it out of the arena, but the odds were rarely in our favor. And I mean very rarely. 

Eventually the silence was broken by a man walking into stage and everything about his appearance shouted, 'look at me, I'm from the capitol'. I heard he had once upon a time been from our very own district, stood among us but that obviously was in the past. What had once been normal skin was now bright yellow with a huge star in the middle. No one even remember his name anymore, everyone simply knew him by his capitol name; stardust. How horrible must it be to lose oneself like that but then again, maybe that's what he wanted. I shouldn't judge him.

The same routine that I had experience for the last sixteen years happened again. Before I knew it Stardust was letting out a sigh as he rubbed his hand together like he had just seen the masterpiece of his life. To be honest I don't believe he had ever been from here. "up first, the ladies." he finally shouted into the microphone which made me cringe. Every girl in my section held their breath as Stardust made his way towards the bowl. I closed my eyes and held my breath along with them. "please, don't be me." but I spoke too late.

"Malia Augustine." My eyes remain shut and I let out the breathe rapidly that it shook my body. Slowly my eyes open and I found every girl looking at me but they weren't looking at me with eyes of sympathy. The whole female section was filled with small smiles and silent laughter and I was standing right in the middle of it all. 

Taking a deep breath I remember something my mother once told me when I was still in training with her; 'shoulders down, neck long, think murder' and that's exactly what I did. The girls in front of me parted as I made my way to the aisle. With my head held high I walked with confidence even though instead I was screaming. I was an Augustine after all and we Augustine never falter in the face of fear. 

What felt like an eternity later I was standing beside Stardust. I looked out at the crowd but I wasn't searching for smirks but for my family faces. Far behind I could see them and none of them wore expressions of sadness. Not a single trace of emotion. It was like they didn't care at all. Raising my eyes I looked into the distance tired of looking at the faces of my emotionless family. The things I would say right now and I think a part of me would have said them but instead Stardust called out another name.

"Pachenko Gilles" usually our reapings are quiet because we would never dare rebel against the capitol - or at least not make a commotion. Until today. My eyes snapped back to the aisle before me when I heard a tall male shout on top of his lungs "I'm here assholes!" I had never seen a drunk man in my life but I think what I was seeing before my eyes was exactly that. I clenched my teeth as the commotion unfolded before me. One minute everything was fine and the next the guy was throwing punches at the peace-keepers. He definitely needs to sort out his priorities. 

Hardly containing myself I bound down the stairs two at a time, nearly falling at the end. Catching myself on the rickety wooden railing I round the corner to our kitchen but skid to a halt when I notice that Poppa isn’t sitting in his chair. “Momma? Where’s Poppa?” My eyes travel from her face to his empty seat. Poppa is always at the table before me!

  “Oh, he went for a walk dear. He wasn’t feeling well this morning. He said he won’t be home in time before we leave and he wanted me to wish you luck.” She turns away from me to continue working on breakfast leaving me to wonder why it looked like Momma hadn’t gotten no sleep last night. I wanna ask but somethin tells me Momma ain’t in the mood to talk about it so I shut my mouth. Before I can give it another thought I’m thinking of the reaping and another wave of excitement hits me with a jolt. Momma drops a plate of eggs and toast in front of me and I gobble it up in silence, barely noticing her not touching her own breakfast.

  My fork drops to my plate with a loud clatter, “Thanks Momma!” I yell as I take off back up the stairs. “Wear something nice!” She calls back up at me followed by something I don’t catch but I’m way ahead of her. If I’m gonna be on TV I gotta look nice after all! When my cousin gots married Momma bought me a shirt and tie to wear and even though it’s itchy and I can’t breathe very well in the tie I like wearing them. Poppa was so proud of me when he taught me to tie my own tie and after a week of practicing I could do it for myself. I’m still not as good as Poppa but it’s easy!. Over, under, over, under, up, and through.

  We live pretty far from the justice building so Momma and I leave early to make sure we’re on time. I wonder why Poppa took such an early walk but it’s a second thought to today. Momma says nothing the whole walk but holds my hand so tight it hurts. She’s acting funny today, maybe she doesn’t want me to leave her but she knows I’ll be back to visit soon if I’m picked.

  I spy Renfrew up ahead and call out to him but before he can even say anything his parents tug him back between them. Frowning, I wonder what’s gotten into people today. I guess some people would rather their kids be farmers than TV stars. That’s the only thing I can think of when we finally arrive at the justice building and all around me are kids crying and hugging their parents. I want to say hi to some friends from school but Momma spins me around first.

  “Listen August,” She starts. “whatever happens today know that Poppa and I love you very much. Okay sweet heart?”

  “Yes Momma.” I groan, ripping my hand out of hers. She looks a little hurt but doesn’t say anything. “Can I go now? All my friends are starting to line up! I can’t be last Momma!” She opens her mouth but shuts it quickly, nodding her head instead. I give her a quick hug and take off to find Renfrew in the crowd but quickly get shoved into a long line instead.

  One by one the kids in front of me talk to a scary looking Capitol woman before she pricks them with something and they’re let in. Finally it’s my turn and I barely notice the prick as I’m already running to where my school friends are all gathered. “Hey guys!” I call earning some sour looks from the older kids. No one responds and I look at my friends, some real pale, one still crying as if he doesn’t even want to be here. Poor kid probably homesick at the thought of leaving.

  Our escort lady steps up to the microphone and introduces herself as Mirage Vox. She has a funny sounding voice but she’s really pretty! She talks for a bit and introduces the mayor but that’s all boring to me. I tune his speak out but perk up when she mentions a video. I turn to the screen in fascination, taking in word as if my life depends on it. Partway through I realize I haven’t been breathing and take a big gulp of air to last me the second half. Some of the stuff about war is kind of scary but then the man in the video talks about the games and what an honour it is to be here!

  As the video winds to a close Mirage steps back up the microphone and announces it’s time to choose tributes. Tributes, what a funny name for us. She seems to not fool around and grabs a slip of paper from a really big bowl. “Nessarose McQuillen!” Her voice is clear despite the accent and I break into a huge round of applause for the girl. Surely whoever she is she’s really excited and it takes me a bit to realize no one else is clapping. In fact no one is even making a sound. Finally I spot the girl as she goes up the stairs. Oh! It dawns on me. She must be one of those who doesn’t like the Capitol. It makes sense why no one cheered now.

  Mirage waits for Nessarose to get settled and my eyes never leave her hand. Not as she takes her time getting to the bowl nor as she slides it inside and grips a single piece of paper. Not even as she unfolds the paper and calls out a single name.

  My name.

  “Wahoooooooo!” I yell startling the boys around me. My cheer is drowned out by screaming and I know who it is right away. Turning around I see Momma pushing against the line of peacekeepers, tears streaking her face. “Momma I get to play the game!” I smile at her which only causes her to sob louder. “Don’t cry Momma you told me how great it is!” She sinks to her knees, clutching at the legs of the peacekeepers who won’t let her past and lowers her scream to a distant wail. Turning back, I bound up the stairs with a smile plastered across my face and wave out to the crowd.

Everywhere I look people look confused and hushed whispers make their way through the crowd. “Shake hands.” Mirage commands behind me. I’ve almost forgotten about Nessa! Does she like being called Nessa? I’m gonna call her Nessa! She grabs my hand and I give her a big smile as I shake it just like Poppa taught me.

My mother laid out each of our Reaping outfits; a pink cotton dress for my sister and a suit jacket with jeans for me. We never had the most elegant of clothing; the best of our wardrobes were saved for Reaping day. With the tesserae I'm forced to take out for the rest of the family and the guarantee that no one sane would volunteer, there was a constant fear of hearing our name while the lady with odd colored hair stood up on the podium.

I held Waverly in my lap as I fed her her morning bottle, a cloth hanging over my shoulder. "We gotta get you dressed, Wave. Mama won't be happy if we're late to the Reaping, will she? We're gonna see the lady with the pink hair," I cooed and received a crooked smile, bouncing my knee as she finished off her bottle.

Although she was nearly three, with her condition, Waverly could barely speak. It was one of the hardest parts about raising her; it was a constant guessing game to figure out what exactly she wanted, but Mom suggested teaching her sign language to communicate efficiently, but I wasn't sure I'd last long enough to even begin teaching it.

I forced Waverly into her dress and sat her on my bed while I slipped into the bathroom to change and snatch an apple from the kitchen for breakfast. If I was Reaped, I was sure I'd be getting some sort of feast on the train, anyway. I'd learned that hunger was only a problem if you made it one; I made my family start rationing once money became tight, but Mom lets us feast on Reaping day. I'd guessed she wanted our last meal to be memorable or something like that.

After finishing off the apple and tossing the core in the trash, I pressed my lips to Waverly's head and held her at my hip while dashing downstairs and out the door to the Justice Building, my family trailing behind. It was an unusually bright day; maybe it was some sort of sign that it would be a good one. With my luck, though, I could guarantee it'd be just the opposite. As we approached the grey box of a building, I handed Waverly to my mother with a small smile. "I'll see you later," I told her, a twinge of uncertainty in my voice as I kissed her cheek and guided the rest of my siblings that were old enough to sign in.

The once familiar faces of my old classmates looked like ghosts as I took my place next to them. They looked just as terrified as I did; their eyes wandering to their families around the crowd. I forced myself to look forward at the podium while Karolina Gwendolyn, the mayor, and Fid--Fido--whatever his name was, the mentor, took their places. "Welcome, citizens of District Five, and Happy Hunger Games!" Karolina chirped, her mile high hot pink hair nearly blinding from a hundred feet away.

I tuned out while the obligatory video played and tried to ignore the boy next to me whispering each of the words. I'd forgotten his name, but I remembered going to school with him; his parents worshiped the President and the Capitol. If anyone was crazy enough to volunteer, it was him, I bet. The video ended, and the air became uneasy while Karolina reached her hand into the female bowl; nearly every girl on the other side of the ropes were either crying, praying, or telling themselves it wouldn't be them.

"Fay Harper!" Karolina called out. I had no clue who the girl was, but there was a slight gasp as a small girl came out from the crowd. Fay made her way to the stage, slowly but surely. She announced that she was thirteen; she was as old as my sister, Ariadne. I couldn't imagine her on the podium: her small frame would cower below the others. As the District rose in chatter, Karolina shut them with her words. "Now for the boys."

Her hand, with its neon blue fingernails that were abnormally long, plucked out a slip of paper and unfolded it in front of the microphone. I opened my mouth, ready to shout out what would seem like my death wish, when Karolina did it for me.

"Arland Keaton!"

"I volun--oh," I half-shouted, shutting my mouth in embarrassment as I stepped out of the crowd and dragged myself up the stairs. I felt weightless, dead, almost, as I took my place next to Fay. I searched for my family in the crowd; my mother was crying, my step-father smirked, and my siblings stood in shock like I.

The beautiful thing that I nicked from the Capital Boutique yesterday. I pick up the  hanger that it drapes from and toss it aside. Slipping the dress over my head and smoothing it out on my body. Next I equip my new heels and Im ready to go.

I snatch my father’s old sundial, and leave the string of teeth on the table in my home. I exit the concrete structure and point the sundial north. “About 8:30” I mumble to myself before slipping it into the brown band tat lines my midsection.

I walk alone with confidence, with nothing but the sound of the wind through the trees and the systematic clicking of my heels on the ground. I feel fully confident in myself. And I know that what I plan to do is seen as unethical in this and most other districts. But honestly what do I have going for me in Eleven. This past year Ive been strutting around, sporting my set of teeth around my neck, and feeling completely satisfied in my actions against the gutless group of pussies who stole everything from me. The only problem is the fact that I’ve run out of little pussy bitches to target. Leading me to the only logical conclusion. Since I have no family and no one to miss, or to be missed by, 

so why the fuck not?

I arrive at the main square. Now littered with little boys and girls who wreak of dull grays and pale blues that the district is usually known for. I stick out like a sore thumb and Im loving every second of it.

I line up with the other girls and eventually feel the prick of the needle drawing blood. The Capital man stamps my bloody finger on a pad and ushers me away. I arrive at the section for the Eighteen year olds and stand with my hands on my hips, waiting.

Finally Ultima Mior appears on stage. Draped with blue nylon that glistens a shade of green. Peacock feather sprouting from her sleeves and around her waist. With her blue painted lips she announces the the Capital propaganda video and along with it, Panem’s anthem.

I grow restless waiting for the damn video to stop. Ive seen it thousands of times and It only reminds me that the time spent watching is lost forever. The video finally ends and Ultima returns to the microphone where she introduces out only two victors. Some old man who’s name I don’t care to remember because its irrelevant and Veronica Valiant, our current mentor. They take their seats and Ultima smiles brightly.

“Okay, Ladies first!”

It’s now hat I begin to move through the crowd as she returns to the microphone with a slip of paper. Im a couple feet from the aisle as the name echoes throughout the Square.

“Abigail Nightly!”

I emerge from the crowd and into the aisle almost simultaneously with the girl. She tiny and her face is stark white. She nervously looks at me, confused. I say nothing and walk over to the twelve year old section where she stands outside of. The peacekeeprs ready themselves but they don’t move yet. The entire square falls silent.

I reach the little girl and place my hand on her shoulder and turn her around, ushering her towards her mother who lays still in the back of the square, tears streaming from her face as well.

The little girl runs back to her as I reach the stage, yet to say a word. The sound of my beautiful heels snap across the empty space and I stop next to Ultima. I lean over and speak into the microphone.

“Dotev Hunter.” I announce before I step to the right and stand while she picks the boys name.

“Um- well it seems we have a volunteer ladies and gentlemen, Dotev Hunter!”

She scurries off to find the next name and I look around at the older audience. I see them murmuring between themselves. Pointing at me, wide eyes. They recognize me. They know who I am and are shocked by my presence alone. I am the long lost daughter of the mayor they murdered.

“Mondo Kamina!”

 I hear the name but I don’t know this boy. I see him move to the stage but I don’t pay much attention as I brush some dust off my dress that I must’ve missed this morning.

“District Eleven, Please give a round of applause for your tributes in the 36th annual Hunger Games, Dotev Hunter and Mondo Kamina!” She starts before turning to face us.

“Shake hands you two.” She asks andI do so.

I didn't even flick the television off when I ran upstairs and threw open the trunk. The wooden mask lay in between the blades, I grabbed that first and stuck it down the back of my trousers, securing it in place, I grabbed both of the riddick blades and slammed the trunk shut, then headed for my door.

When I reached the top of the stairs, I saw a group of peacekeepers in the doorway, they had not seen me yet so I acted fast, diving backwards and into my room. I used my normal escape route, opened the window, jumped, rolled. After I had landed, I took off for the Districts edges. I came to a fence that overlooked a very dense forest. Just after looking over both my shoulders, I threw both the blades into the forest, removing them from my body before I headed to the reaping. I made a vow to myself that I would find some more, even make some more if need be, after the reaping.

I couldn't throw the mask though. That was a part of me now.

Making my way to the reaping, I checked each corner before I turned, and watched my back every few minutes. I couldn't slip up now. Not just before the reaping, that would not be a nice thing to do.

The reaping began, and as always, Michaelangelo was wearing some strange looking clothes that I wouldn't be seen dead in. He stepped to the mic, his bouncy voice echoing around the square, he tore through the speech that I had now deemed mandatory for all escorts. Word by word, it was said every single year, without fail. After the speech and the video, he began the reaping, dipping towards the glass bowl with the girls names in.

He did the casual finger twirl above the slips of card, and ripped up a card from the mess. He eccentrically broke the small tape and opened the card, “Willow Magnolia.”

I had heard that name before! Where though, I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I looked around the crowd, and then saw a girl looking worried. Pow. That was her. My eyes scanned her, she was young, would be ripped to shreds in the arena, that's for sure.

Silence fell upon the crowd, and I looked behind me, there were people in the crowd looking sad at the fact this girl had been called, but not that many people could be related to her.. Was she famous? Was I missing a vital piece of information? Seconds turned into minutes, minutes turned into hours. It felt like forever before I saw some moving. A girl, not a girl that had been called, began walking towards the stage. I hadn't even heard her volunteer.. It must have been quiet. She didn't look scared.. She looked annoyed more than anything. When she finally made it to the stage and turned towards the audience, the cogs in my brain clicked together. She was the sister of Willow, they were the sister 'duo.' Famous for their music, which I can't really flaw. They were good. Willow, quite obviously was favoured. The girl announced her name into the microphone, “Kyera Magnolia.” Well, I guess that's the girl tribute sorted. I kinda felt bad for her, but only because it looked like she had been mentally forced onto the stage.. Now, on to find out which unlucky fucker from the boys bowl would be plucked.

Michaelangelo's hand popped into the separate glass bowl, and he twirled his hand. Digging his fingers deep, he pulled out a card, walked back to the microphone and unwrapped the card, reading loudly into it. “Lucius Moore.” Who the fuck was that kid. Never heard of him before in my life, but hey! That means I'm clear! I can stay in District 7 and relax for the rest of my life, I could live free! Well, as free as these fences allow.

A boy that looked 15/16 walked towards the stage timidly, small arms, legs that looked like axe handles and dark hair that fell to his shoulders. He was screwed. He wouldn't make it through the first day, called it.

A scuffle came from the back of the square, and every head in the square turned towards it. A group of peacekeepers were marching towards the crowds at a rapid pace. Everybody stopped doing what they were doing and stared, even Lucius. The peacekeepers were walking in a V formation, with one guy at the front, then spanning out 4 lines, forming a group of 9 peacekeepers in all. The peacekeeper in the front of the v was holding a large trunk. A familiar looking trunk.

My trunk.

I checked the mask in my trousers and it was still there, firmly. I checked back at the peacekeepers and they were making ground. They were headset, and I knew exactly where they were heading. Towards me. I had nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide, and no way to get out of this one. I couldn't duck down and throw my mask on, I wouldn't make it out of the crowd, let alone the square. I did the one thing I knew would allow me to not be thrown into a prison cell.

I volunteered.

I jumped into the walkway and raised my voice. “I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!” I ran past Lucius, pushing him back towards his section, whispering quickly, “You lucky fuck.” I jumped up onto the stage, not even using the steps. The peacekeeper holding the trunk stopped in his tracks and dropped it, walking swiftly towards me. I would not go to prison. I wouldn't allow it.

Grabbing the microphone, I spat into it, “Zachary Ebonate, mayors son. Lets go.” I shook Kyera's hand and walked into the justice building then towards the door a peacekeeper had guided me to.

I was safe..