MagiStream

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.

My moment my eyes blink open, I can feel them going wide. The room around me is plush, luxurious, and divine. The floor is covered in a soft carpet and there is a detailed, probably hand-carved table in the center of the room. The china on the table has an elaborate design and is made of sparkling crystal. Rayla is sitting on a velvet couch already.

When she stands, I get to see Rayla up close for the first time. I’ve seen her around the district, but never really talked to her. I don’t see why I would, until now I was just a normal fifteen year old girl. I look up at Rayla, and as I remember from what of her I’ve seen, her hair is a pale blonde. She has it pulled back in a pony tail that goes down to the small of her back. Rayla’s eyes are very dark brown, almost black in color. She’s a very tall, broad shouldered woman and I already feel shyer in her presence.

“Hello,” Rayla smiles. Despite her frightening and serious appearance, her voice is warm and friendly. I feel my tension relax a bit. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“No, I’d remember,” I whisper, looking down at my feet. Out of the corner of my eye I see Thorin looking stone cold and serious. I already know what his strategy for the games will be. He’ll be strong, elusive, intimidating even.

“No need to be shy,” Rayla says, “I’m here to help.” She reaches her hand out towards me and I force myself to lift my gaze and shake it. Thorin shakes her hand without hesitation and I’m thinking of what his hands felt like when I shook them. Warm.

“So,” I’m pulled from my thoughts as an arm winds around my shoulder. “We’ve got how long until dinner?” I recognize the voice of Claud and pull myself from his reach, accidentally tripping in the process. Warm hands, Thorin’s, reach out and steady me without a word. I give him a thankful look.

“Careful,” Rayla smiles and shakes her head at Claud in fake dismay. “Dinner will be in about an hour. Until then,” she turns to Thorin and me, “you two are free to roam about. Everything on the train is at your disposal. Just be here for dinner.”

Without another word, Rayla turns and heads back to the couch where she was watching some program on the television set. I sneak a glance and see she’s watching some of the other reapings, which will no doubt be replaying later for the tributes to watch. We have to know what we’re up against.

At the moment, however, I have no interest in watching the other tributes. I turn down the hall of the train, heading to the room that is supposed to be mine. Apparently, tributes are spoiled until they’re forced into the games. Without realizing it, I’ve clenched my hand into a fist and feel something digging into my palm. I realize it must be my mother’s old silver ring, which I never take off. I suppose this is my district token now.

I gasp as I fling open the door to my compartment, where I’ll be staying in the two days it takes to reach the Capitol. After all, these trains only move two hundred and fifty miles per hour. The bed is at least three times the size of mine at home. As I step into the room, the carpet smashes down under my shoes. It must be incredibly soft.

I run a hand down the comforter of my bed and find the fabric is extravagantly soft to the touch. I’m from 8, but since I work in the Peacekeeper uniforms factory, I’m not normally around such plush fabrics. I wander around the room for a moment, still in awe, until I decide to take a shower. When I walk in, I find my private bathroom is just as large and decorative as my compartment.

I strip off my mother’s old dress and carefully set her ring on the table so I’ll be able to find it later. Showers are not a luxury we have in 8, so I’m not exactly sure how to work the variety of buttons. I take a moment to study them, trying to find the one that makes hot water. It doesn’t take long, because I find one of the little buttons has been carefully labeled ‘hot.’

As soon as I press the button, I regret it. The water that pours from the shower head is so hot I squeal, desperately pushing another button at random. The hot water stops and I find my entire body is sprayed with a flowery-smelling soap; roses, I think.

Thankfully, the next button I push sends out a comfortable temperature of water to wash the soap from my body. Then I wash my hair and step out of the shower. A panel on the floor air dries me, sending jets of air up that untangle my hair and leave it sleek and shiny.

After taking a moment to figure out the closet, I dress myself in a pair of plain navy blue pants. Then I pick out a mint green shirt with puffy sleeves and sky blue lace around the neckline and waste line. I’m not a huge fan of extravagant clothing, I’d rather something comfortable. However, I love to dress in a variety of colors. Hopefully, whoever I get as a stylist won’t be color blind.

I’m about to walk out of my compartment when I remember my mother’s ring. I turn around right away to get it, finding it sitting right on the counter where I last left it. I pick up the little ring, running my fingers over the smooth surface before slipping it on. The surface of the ring is plain silver without any design. I remember when my father gave it to me.

I’d been around ten years old and had discovered a box inside one of my father’s drawers. I’d opened it up to discover a small assortment of various jewelries. Out of all the things in that box, I don’t know what had inspired me to take the small silver ring from the bottom of the box.

I had just slid it on my finger when my father walked into the room. I’d looked at him with wide, innocent eyes, fearing he’d be mad at me for snooping in his stuff. Instead, he just came and stood beside me, looking at the jewelry.

Then he’d explained that all this used to be my mother’s, smiling at the silver ring and telling me it used to be her favorite. Happy with my little trinket, I’d looked at it admiringly. When I’d gone to place it back in the box, my father had told me I could keep it. Joyful, I abandoned the box and left the room with a smile.

Sighing, I leave the room just in time to see Claud walking down the hallway. He stops when he sees me, his make-up covered face smiling at me.

“I was just coming to get you, it’s dinner time,” he informs me while patting his stomach. I wrinkle my nose up uncontrollably, not sure what I’ll think of the Capitol food. Either Claud is a mind-reader, or past tributes have done the same thing. “Don’t worry, it’s delicious.”

“Okay,” I look down at the floor, unconvinced. “I guess it can’t be as bad as flatbread.” Claud laughs, even though I wasn’t kidding, and throws an arm around my shoulder. I want to flinch away, but this is the second time he’s done this, so I just let him steer me to the dining table.

“There she is!” Rayla exclaims, patting the seat beside her in indication for me to sit there. I swallow down my nervousness, slid from Claud’s arm, and slink into the chair without a sound. From the corner of my eye, I see Thorin looking at me. The moment he sees my glance, his green eyes flicker away and find something else to focus on.

“What a quiet pair we have this year,” Claud comments as dinner is being served. I can feel my eyes go wide at the huge variety of food placed before me. There are probably more dishes in front of me than I’ve seen in my entire life. Rayla must see my baffled expression, because she lets out a laugh.

“Go ahead and eat something,” she encourages, filling her own plate with a variety of food. I glance over all the foods; meat, vegetables, soups, breads, and drinks. I take a roll from a plate full, something that actually looks normal, and slowly start to eat it.

Eventually, my hunger gets the better of me and I start sampling food after food. I really like all the kinds of meat, since I usually don’t get to eat it that much. I look up from my plate and see Thorin is stuffing his face in a manner similar to mine.

I’m not exactly sure how much I eat, but by the time I decide I’m full my stomach is about to pop open. For a moment I feel like I might throw up, but I take a drink of water and try to relax my stomach. I didn’t intend on losing my meal anytime soon.

After we finish eating, the servers take away all the plates and the four of us are left at the table. I yawn, feeling exhausted and like I might cry. I’m not used to spending nights away from home, but I do my best to keep my face completely emotionless.

“We have to watch the reapings now, right?” an unfamiliar voice asks. I glance across the table and realize this is the first time I’ve heard Thorin speak. His voice is emotionless and clear, rolling into my ears like music. I glance over at Rayla and see her smiling widely: one of her tributes has bothered to speak.

“Yes, that way we know what you’re up against,” Rayla answers, getting to her feet. The rest of us copy her and stand as we make our way to the couches in front of the TV set.

I take seat at the edge of one of the couches and turn my attention to the TV just as the recap of the reaping starts. I swallow down nervousness and prepare myself to see who I’m going to have to kill if I ever want to return home.