Hunger Games Story Competition Submission

Part 1 - The Reaping : Sycamore Oliveleaf

Reaping morning. The most stressful day of the year. And also probably one of the hottest. I woke up while the moon was just creeping toward the horizon, so I snuck toward the forest. Technically, no one was allowed in the forest outside of working hours. But Peacekeepers only patrolled the outside edges, and none worked on Reaping Day. To top it all off, you could sneak through the rows of neatly planted trees to the wild forest, which the Capitol didn't think needed to be contained. Sometimes wild animals would venture into our towns and steal food. On the rare occasion that something more dangerous like a bear came into town, people would get attacked. The townspeople, like my parents, were forced to fight it off while the Peacekeepers sat in the safety of their barracks. So it came as no surprise to me when I was able to waltz into the forest casually and sneak into the Wilds. I didn't think it mattered that much if I broke the law if it wasn't for a bad reason. It wasn't like I was trying to leave the district, I just needed some peace and quiet, which was rare around my house. I scaled up a tall tree, all the way to the forest canopy. There I nested myself comfortably between two branches as the sun rose, its heat gently kissing my skin. The sun wasn't common in District 7, between the forest canopy and the frequent rain. Like magic though, it seldom rained on reaping day. It felt like the heat evaporated all the moisture out of the air, and all signs of breeze were gone. By the time the sun was up, I felt like I was being baked alive in the still heat of July 4th, so I slid back down the tree and hurried back to my house. "Morning, Sycamore," Pa said, looking up from the pot of bitter tea he was brewing. It was the closest thing to coffee that we could afford in the districts. Samara seeds shelled and brewed into a deep green beverage. "Good morning, it's gonna be hot out today," I said, brushing a strand of brown hair out of my face. "Sycamore, come here!" Oakley whined, poking her head out of her bedroom door. There were four rooms down that hallway. Maple and I's room, Oakley and Willow's room, my brothers' room, then my parents' room. That was the majority of our house, but it didn't matter since we spent most of our time outside. I stepped into Oakley's room. "What should I wear to the reaping?" I looked carefully at her. Hazel eyes, light hair, rosy cheeks, tan skin. Oakley gestured to the nicest dresses she and Willow had, hung neatly on the door of the closet. "This one," I said, gently running my fingers across a sky-blue dress.

"Thank you!" Oakley said and threw her arms around my waist. I affectionately patted her head. "Sycamore!" I heard Ma yell. I hurried into my brother's room to see Hickory refusing to put on his collared shirt and dress pants. "Get Hickory to put his reaping clothes on, I need to go check on Maple." Then she was gone.

This is part of the reason I hated reaping morning. The stress and the large difference in the normal routine upset all of my siblings. Somehow, I managed to coax Hickory into his reaping clothes and pick out dresses for everyone who asked. Then I had to do hair with Maple. Comb Birch, Spruce, and Hickory's hair (which was a serious feat) back nicely. Then of course Willow and Oakley wanted matching braids, the elaborate kind woven with greenery and flowers. On top of that, I still had to get myself ready and help Maple with her hair too.

Somehow, throughout the chaos of the morning, my whole family was ready and out the door. I had missed breakfast, but that didn't matter. Little Willow wouldn't let go of my skirt, and tears were streaming down her face. "Willow, it's okay. You can't get reaped. It's your first reaping. Your name is only in the bowl one time. One paper out of thousands." I knew it wouldn't comfort her. It never comforted anyone, because there was still that chance, no matter how slim, that her name would be drawn. Oakley slipped her small hand into mine. "You're 17, and you've taken tesserae. How many times is your name in the bowl?" Her concern made my heart pang, but I tried to sound casual as I responded, "Don't worry about me. It's only 70 papers." But it was all wrong because no one with 70 papers in the bowl and two reapings to go could be nonchalant about it. Yes, I'd rather be reaped than one of my little sisters, but could my family function without me? Managing 6 kids on your own was hard, I would know. "70? How'd you get 70?" Willow said, staring up at me with tears in her eyes. "It's my 7th reaping. One for every reaping, plus nine tesserae each year. Hey, hey it's okay." I said affectionately as Willow's tears spilled faster and I noticed Oakley was crying a bit too. Maple took Oakley's hand, and I shot her a thankful smile. She just nodded slightly at me in acknowledgment. I hugged Willow, and then we continued on our way. Not a word spoken between the 9 of us.

Once the reaping started and we were separated, I zoned out. I had listened to the speech every year. The only thing I noticed was that this year it was some new glitzy woman from the Capitol. I didn't even care to listen for her name. But soon enough it was time for the reaping. "Ladies first!" As always. She grabbed the paper. An involuntary bolt of fear coursed through me, but I pressed it down. "Maple Oliveleaf!"

A chill shot down my spine and I shivered despite the heat. No, I was trembling. I had done everything I could, every possible thing to make sure that this didn't happen. It should have been me up there. It was only her third reaping after all. I saw the crowd part, as they did every year. Just this time I didn't want them to. I wanted everyone to chase the Capitol away, to tell them to leave my family alone, or they were going to mess with me. But Maple knew there would be consequences for rebellion. She was a smart girl, she always had been. Too smart, not as good at lumber. She would never survive, and we all knew it. It should have been me. Her abnormally tall height was visible, even from my position toward the back. Her short, choppy blonde hair was as abnormal as her personality heading toward the front. Then a head of familiar brown hair. Willow. She barreled forward, and even though she was small for her size, she was strong. Stronger than Maple, who almost fell over. "Don't go! Don't go, you can't go!" She yelled, her shrieks echoing throughout the town square. Birch pushed through the crowd. "Willow, you can't." He said quietly, but it still echoed like a tree crashing to the ground in the silence. "Yes, I can! They can't take her!" I knew Willow was about to say something about the Capitol, something that would unleash wrath upon us. So I shoved everyone aside, knocking people to the ground. But I didn't care. "I volunteer! Take me instead!" The words came from somewhere deep inside of me, my heart, not my brain.

Maple turned to face me, her brown eyes wide. "No. No, you can't go, Syca."

"I can't let you go." Maple grabs my hands and we stare at each other. We had never been the closest, as we were very different people. But now, I see how much we love each other. She pulled me into a hug and buried her head into my shoulder. Willow wailed and hugged our waists, and Birch silently hugged all of us with his protective nature. I knew if he could have, he would have volunteered. Just like Maple would have gone to keep the rest of our family safe. Before the tears I felt threatening to roll down my cheeks pricked my eyes, I pushed out of the hug and rushed up to the stage. I heard another sob from Willow, as Maple grabbed her hand. Willow wouldn't go though, and she was flailing about. "Syca!" She cried, reaching out for me. I forced my gaze to remain neutral as I noticed Peacekeepers shifting their rifles. If they so much as point their guns at anyone in my family, I swear it will be the last thing they do. Birch rushed over to Maple's side, and together they managed to hoist a kicking Willow into their arms. Then they were mixed back into the crowd. I couldn't tear my eyes off Willow as the boy was reaped. I half expected Birch to volunteer, but he knew I wouldn't allow it. Instead, it was a boy about 15 years old. I had seen him before, but I didn't know his name. He was tall and scrawny but could chop a tree quickly. "Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" The escort from the Capitol calls out, and then Peacekeepers grab our wrists and force us into the Justice Building. I make an effort to trod on his toes, and I hear him wince slightly. Teach him to mess with my family.

Almost as soon as I get to sit on the couch, my entire family rushes in. "Sycamore, what were you thinking?" Maple yells, her eyes wild as she rushes toward me.

"I'm not going to let you go to the Hunger Games, our family needs you!" I retorted.

"They need you more!" Maple says, her eyes hurt.

"We need both of you. Come home, Syca." Oakley said, stepping forward and taking Maple and I's hands. A single tear rolls down her cheek, and she swipes it away before anyone other than Oakley and I can see. Now I am at serious risk of crying too. Willow hauls herself onto the couch and curls up in my lap. Instinctively, I run my fingers through her hair gently. Her tears and sniffles slow, and I feel just like I do when Willow has a nightmare. I give all of my family a hug and tell them each I love them. Then they file out. Only Willow looks back, with her tear-streaked face. That is the moment that I realize I don't want to die. I'm not ready to die. I have to get back to my family, even if I have to kill to do it.