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Prologue: Reaping Day
Spoiler
I’m standing in the town circle of District Eight, my hands clenched into fists and my eyes locked on that ball. The one that holds my name along with many others, the one that controls the fate of lives. More importantly, the life of whoever’s name is on that single paper slip selected. A hand reaches towards the ball holding the girl’s names, my name… it’s Claud’s hand. Claud is assigned to our district this year; I’ve seen him on the TV before. His hair is pure white; it almost hurts your eyes to look at it. He almost looks albino with the crystal blue eyes that are set deep in their sockets, the chalky white face make-up, and the blue lip stick. He’s at least eerie, if anything.
“And the female tribute is,” Claud pauses, grabs a slip of paper, and pulls his hand from the ball. “Oriole Rose.” Everything inside me seems to stop moving all at once. I see people’s eyes lock around me, but I don’t care. I can’t even feel myself anymore; the only thing I can register is the sound of my heartbeat ringing inside my ears. A thousand emotions have flooded me all at once: dread, fear, anger, sadness, despair. Suddenly, my legs are moving and I’m walking towards that stage. The one that seals my fate.
As I walk, I can hardly register anything around me. The only thing I’m feeling is shock now. This can’t be happening to me. As I reach the stage, Claud wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me to the microphone next to him. He’s saying things, but I can’t make out what they are. I vaguely make it out as Claud asks for volunteers. Of course no one would volunteer, let alone for me. Not many people know me around here, I mostly keep to myself.
My eyes search the crowd and look for the only two people I have in this life. My family. I find my eighteen year old brother, whose three years older than me, and my father back in the crowd. The pain on their faces is raw and obvious. The sound of applause startles me from my thoughts and I realize they’ve picked the boy tribute. I glance over, just barely wondering whose name has been chosen.
I recognize the boy before me, but I can’t place his name. I’ve seen him a school; he’s a year older than I am. His hair is dark blonde, almost brown in color. It’s somewhat shaggy and falls into his eyes a bit. His eyes are a striking green color and they meet mine for a moment. I can see the fear in them. Claud asks us to shake hands and I tear my eyes from his as I shyly reach my hand out. He places his in mine.
The moment the boy’s hand touches mine his name hits me. I don’t remember his last name, but I remember his first. It’s Thorin. I remember when I first heard it a while ago and thought it sounded almost girly. I guess it doesn’t really matter now; chances are we’ll both be dead on the first day of the games. It’s more than likely a tribute from district one or two, maybe even four, will be crowned this year’s victor.
The next thing I know Claud is asking for a round of applause. The people of district eight clap, but I can see the reluctance written on their faces. It’s probably more for Thorin than it is for me. He had a lot of friends. I remember seeing him at school. He never stood out to me for anything. It’s more that I have a good memory.
Peacekeepers surround Thorin and I and suddenly their leading us inside the justice building. Every district has one, and it’s where we’re taken to say goodbye to our loved ones. I know I’m only going to have two guests: my father and my brother. My mother died when she gave birth. I also know I’m not going to have very long to say goodbye. Probably only a few minutes at the most. Any more than that would be too long. Technically I have an hour, but there aren’t that many people coming to say goodbye to me. After that I’ll be taken onto the tribute train and whisked away to the Capitol.
I’m taken into a plush room full of beautiful furniture. It’s more beautiful than any of the furniture I’ve seen in my life time. I sigh and sit down on a leather couch. The leather is cold and smooth against my skin and I lean back for a moment, trying to relax myself. My eyes are teary, but I don’t cry in front of others. It makes me feel… naked.
In a few moments my brother and father walk in. My brother’s name is Deuce. I get off the couch and am taken into a hug my both my brother and father. They’re telling me they love me and hugging me and everything. I look up and notice my father is crying. I smile at him, but it’s forced. Suddenly, Deuce pulls back and grabs hold of my shoulders. I’m forced to look into his green eyes; we both have our mother’s green eyes.
“You could win,” he whispers to me. I shake my head, knowing I can’t win. “You’re the smartest person I know Oriole.”
“But I’m no good at combat,” I whisper and look down at the floor. “One surprise attack and I’m dead.”
“That’s why they have training,” Deuce assures. “You’ve got to try.”
“I know… I’ll try,” I look up at Deuce’s face. He really believes in me, I can tell. Letting him down would be a shame, but I can’t promise. I can’t make a promise I know I can’t keep. I’ll try, but it’s no use. I’m going to lose.
“Time’s up,” there’s a peacekeeper opening the door. My father, who has been silently crying, pulls me into a tight hug. I hug him back, and then Deuce has his arms around me as well.
“I love you both,” I choke out as the peacekeepers are pulling them away. I’m trying desperately not to scream and try to cling to them. I know if I break down it’ll only make them hurt worse. I’m trying to keep myself emotionless. They tell me they love me back and the last thing I see is Deuce’s face looking at me with a belief and hope.
A stray tear runs down my face and I wipe it away in rage. I don’t want to cry, not when people can see me. Peacekeepers come in and collect me and I’m surprised to find Claud is there as well. Thorin and I are surrounded by cameras as we make our way towards the tribute train. I find myself absorbed by thoughts of the Capitol. What will it be like?
I try to keep my calm while the cameras are on me. I glance at Thorin and he looks stony cold and serious. I’m almost intimidated by him. I hope for a moment that I don’t end up against him in the arena. Hopefully one of the career tributes, or tributes that have trained for the games, will finish him off before I get anywhere near him in the arena.
The tribute train comes in sight and fear engulfs me. In a few moments we will be traveling at two hundred and fifty miles an hour to the Capitol. Suddenly I’m wondering about my mentor. There’s only one living tribute left in district eight, and my thoughts were too all-consuming to even think about here at the reaping. Her name is Rayla.
I’m still wondering what Rayla will be like when they take us into the train. For a moment, I close my eyes and try to swallow down the fear as we’re lead away from the flashing cameras.
“And the female tribute is,” Claud pauses, grabs a slip of paper, and pulls his hand from the ball. “Oriole Rose.” Everything inside me seems to stop moving all at once. I see people’s eyes lock around me, but I don’t care. I can’t even feel myself anymore; the only thing I can register is the sound of my heartbeat ringing inside my ears. A thousand emotions have flooded me all at once: dread, fear, anger, sadness, despair. Suddenly, my legs are moving and I’m walking towards that stage. The one that seals my fate.
As I walk, I can hardly register anything around me. The only thing I’m feeling is shock now. This can’t be happening to me. As I reach the stage, Claud wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me to the microphone next to him. He’s saying things, but I can’t make out what they are. I vaguely make it out as Claud asks for volunteers. Of course no one would volunteer, let alone for me. Not many people know me around here, I mostly keep to myself.
My eyes search the crowd and look for the only two people I have in this life. My family. I find my eighteen year old brother, whose three years older than me, and my father back in the crowd. The pain on their faces is raw and obvious. The sound of applause startles me from my thoughts and I realize they’ve picked the boy tribute. I glance over, just barely wondering whose name has been chosen.
I recognize the boy before me, but I can’t place his name. I’ve seen him a school; he’s a year older than I am. His hair is dark blonde, almost brown in color. It’s somewhat shaggy and falls into his eyes a bit. His eyes are a striking green color and they meet mine for a moment. I can see the fear in them. Claud asks us to shake hands and I tear my eyes from his as I shyly reach my hand out. He places his in mine.
The moment the boy’s hand touches mine his name hits me. I don’t remember his last name, but I remember his first. It’s Thorin. I remember when I first heard it a while ago and thought it sounded almost girly. I guess it doesn’t really matter now; chances are we’ll both be dead on the first day of the games. It’s more than likely a tribute from district one or two, maybe even four, will be crowned this year’s victor.
The next thing I know Claud is asking for a round of applause. The people of district eight clap, but I can see the reluctance written on their faces. It’s probably more for Thorin than it is for me. He had a lot of friends. I remember seeing him at school. He never stood out to me for anything. It’s more that I have a good memory.
Peacekeepers surround Thorin and I and suddenly their leading us inside the justice building. Every district has one, and it’s where we’re taken to say goodbye to our loved ones. I know I’m only going to have two guests: my father and my brother. My mother died when she gave birth. I also know I’m not going to have very long to say goodbye. Probably only a few minutes at the most. Any more than that would be too long. Technically I have an hour, but there aren’t that many people coming to say goodbye to me. After that I’ll be taken onto the tribute train and whisked away to the Capitol.
I’m taken into a plush room full of beautiful furniture. It’s more beautiful than any of the furniture I’ve seen in my life time. I sigh and sit down on a leather couch. The leather is cold and smooth against my skin and I lean back for a moment, trying to relax myself. My eyes are teary, but I don’t cry in front of others. It makes me feel… naked.
In a few moments my brother and father walk in. My brother’s name is Deuce. I get off the couch and am taken into a hug my both my brother and father. They’re telling me they love me and hugging me and everything. I look up and notice my father is crying. I smile at him, but it’s forced. Suddenly, Deuce pulls back and grabs hold of my shoulders. I’m forced to look into his green eyes; we both have our mother’s green eyes.
“You could win,” he whispers to me. I shake my head, knowing I can’t win. “You’re the smartest person I know Oriole.”
“But I’m no good at combat,” I whisper and look down at the floor. “One surprise attack and I’m dead.”
“That’s why they have training,” Deuce assures. “You’ve got to try.”
“I know… I’ll try,” I look up at Deuce’s face. He really believes in me, I can tell. Letting him down would be a shame, but I can’t promise. I can’t make a promise I know I can’t keep. I’ll try, but it’s no use. I’m going to lose.
“Time’s up,” there’s a peacekeeper opening the door. My father, who has been silently crying, pulls me into a tight hug. I hug him back, and then Deuce has his arms around me as well.
“I love you both,” I choke out as the peacekeepers are pulling them away. I’m trying desperately not to scream and try to cling to them. I know if I break down it’ll only make them hurt worse. I’m trying to keep myself emotionless. They tell me they love me back and the last thing I see is Deuce’s face looking at me with a belief and hope.
A stray tear runs down my face and I wipe it away in rage. I don’t want to cry, not when people can see me. Peacekeepers come in and collect me and I’m surprised to find Claud is there as well. Thorin and I are surrounded by cameras as we make our way towards the tribute train. I find myself absorbed by thoughts of the Capitol. What will it be like?
I try to keep my calm while the cameras are on me. I glance at Thorin and he looks stony cold and serious. I’m almost intimidated by him. I hope for a moment that I don’t end up against him in the arena. Hopefully one of the career tributes, or tributes that have trained for the games, will finish him off before I get anywhere near him in the arena.
The tribute train comes in sight and fear engulfs me. In a few moments we will be traveling at two hundred and fifty miles an hour to the Capitol. Suddenly I’m wondering about my mentor. There’s only one living tribute left in district eight, and my thoughts were too all-consuming to even think about here at the reaping. Her name is Rayla.
I’m still wondering what Rayla will be like when they take us into the train. For a moment, I close my eyes and try to swallow down the fear as we’re lead away from the flashing cameras.