96Hey guys, here is District one's reaping. Please review!Thank you, we love you all!
-iloverueforever and connorxrisa897
Well now, don't you look pretty?" my brother Beta remarks sarcastically, the harsh masculine laughter from my older brothers ringing through the kitchen.
"Shut up," I say, smacking him with a dishtowel. "I think my dress is gorgeous. Besides, the Capitol likes fashion, right? And I saw a lot of red on the tributes last year."
"Ha ha, that's funny!" my brother Ogden snorts. "Red, like blood. Ha ha. Get it?"
"That's not what I meant, stupid," I reply, whipping the towel through the air to hit him too. Who are they to judge my taste in clothes? My dress, custom sewn by my mother, is my gift to the square where the reapings are held. Asymmetrical bodice, long train, bright and shiny red. I look like I'm from the Capitol. Except, I don't have any weird tattoos, or freaky bleached eyebrows or anything. That would just be weird. Weird, and not very cute.
I'm annoyed by the reapings, since people are always sweating and crying and stuff, and it wastes a perfectly good few hours of my life that could have been easily spent doing my hair, or hanging with one of my boyfriends, or finding another one. SUCH a waste of my valuable time. I walk into the front hall of my house, being careful to step with my feet flat, as to not trip on my heels. Turns out, scrunching up your toes only makes you fall over. I learned that the hard way.
Staring at myself in the wide mirror of the decorative armoire, I am momentarily distracted by the shininess of my dress's fabric. Pretty….. I snap out of it, strike what I think might be a warrior pose, and say, perhaps a bit louder than I meant to,
"I present to you, Platinum Fowley, winner of the 36th annual hunger games!"
Suddenly, my mom comes up behind me, and sweeps my long, dark hair to the side.
"Platinum!" she scolds. "You shouldn't fantasize about killing innocent children! Augh, as if those dreadful boyfriends of yours haven't influenced you enough, now you want to kill people?"
"No, mommy," I say, swirling around, looking down to meet her eyes. In my shoes, I'm about half a foot taller than she is. "Killing is bad, the Hunger Games are cruel, and my best hope is to live a safe and uneventful life in the district. I know, I know."
She leaves then, shaking her head in disappointment. Why, I don't know. I mean, I told her what she always tells me, right?
About a half hour later, I am gathered with the other seventeen-year-olds, roped off from the adults, constantly being shoved aside to make room for people and their friends.
"Watch it!" I shriek, as a skinny, pimply boy elbows me in the ribs.
He doesn't even apologize. The nerve. Just then, District 1's escort, an only sort-of attractive woman by the name of Ariana steps up to the microphone on the steps of our Justice Building. She taps it a few times to make sure it is working, and announces in a thick Capitol accent,
"Welcome everyone, to the, uh, thirty-sixth annual reapings of the Hunger Games! I'm District 1's very lucky escort, Ariana Pavao! Be lucky and win, people! Now, we turn this over to the mayor, Mr… um, the mayor, for the reading of the Treaty of Treason! Yay!"
Our mayor, Augustus Pliskin, this really old guy who kinda freaks me out, pulls a scroll of paper out of his maroon coat pocket, and begins to read the familiar treaty in his deep, droning voice. I seriously almost fall asleep in the first minute. After what seems like forever, Ariana shoves him gently out of the way, saying, "Thanks, old man. Now, it's time to draw the names. As we always do, let's start with the girls!"
Ariana strides confidently over to the huge glass bowl containing the girl's names, flipping her layered blonde hair, and winking at the crowd of boys. She dips her hand into the bowl, immediately fishes out the first one she feels, and reads loudly,
"Platinum Fowley."
Huh. Wasn't quite expecting that one. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, I mean, I was in six times because of my age, and almost no one in the district ever takes out any tesserae. I push my way through the crowd, and stride up to the stage. I face the people of my district, feeling their joy that their own children were spared. Whatever. My brothers are all nudging each other and whispering, and my father is comforting my sobbing mother.
"You're Platinum?" Ariana asks me, her breath smelling of synthetic mint.
"Yeah," I say into the microphone.
"Okay, you lovely girl, time to pick your companion! Now, for the boys!"
I look into the audience, looking for any other concern. There isn't any that I can see. Not that I need their sympathy, of course. I'm really confident. I'm good at talking to people, I'm strong, I'm even pretty. I have got this in the bag, I think, smiling. Look out Panem, here comes Platinum Fowley.
Kern's POV
I eye the toast sitting on my plate, thinking back to the day it cost me the normalcy of my upper lip.
"Morning," My little sister Delphi chirps. I mumble a response and quickly get up. I twist the door knob and step out of my house. The sun peers over the horizon, awakening me more and more. I head to my friend Vibia's house, hoping to talk to her about the reaping. I've had my eyes on the mentor this years and it's no secret.
"Hey" Vibia says as I step into her room.
"Ugh, what smells so bad?" I grumble. She lives in a pigsty always throwing her trash in to any open spot.
"Stop grumbling, today we unite!" She says sarcastically.
"Stop," I say. I put my hand in her face.
"I won't get picked the odds are absolutely in my favor, but you on the other hand….." I trail off, not sure how to put it. I think for a minute trying to get used to the words.
"Have your name in 25 times" I finish.
"I know, I know, the odds are not entirely in my favor." She replies. My name is only in 9 times because I'm the mayor's son but still, my father wants extra food. I sigh, no longer knowing what to say. I reach into my pocket and pull out my "stress rope", the thing I use when I get fidgety. Vibia and Silver like to remind me that I have it in my hands all the time.
I tie and untie knots on the way home, not daring to look in to other people's piercing eyes. I dare to look up, and catch site of a young boy wrapped in a rag. I quickly yank of my jacket and offer it to the boy. He smiles up at me as I turn and go back home.
My older sister Theta straightens my tie while I button my light blue dress shirt. My khaki pants will stand out in the crowd, but I don't mind. I quickly slip in to my dark brown shoes as I walk down the stairs with my older brothers Baron and Cordo. My little siblings trail behind us as we kiss our parents goodbye and walk toward the square.
I run my hand through my dark shaggy hair letting it fall in to place. My sisters kiss me on the cheek and walk to their designated, roped off area. I sign in and walk with my brother Cordo to the 17 year old area. He walks to the 18 year old section and mouths "good luck". I grin at him.
"Blah, blah, blah," says the escort, boring me to death. I resist the urge to pull out my "stress rope."
"Kernel" A boy in my section shoves me in the ribs.
"What?" I snap. He motions toward the stage as the escort Ariana calls again,
"Kernel Rankline. Would you please come here?" I walk straight to the stage and quickly walk up the stairs. I don't notice what's happened until I catch site of the, uhh my mentor winking at me. I was chosen, I'm in the games. And she's pretty cute.