𝔸𝕝𝕝 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕃𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕎𝕖 ℂ𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕊𝕖𝕖- 𝕄𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕣𝕪 𝕆𝕕𝕒𝕚𝕣

ᏖᏂᏋ 69ᏖᏂ ᏂᏬᏁᎶᏋᏒ ᎶᏗᎷᏋᏕ

"𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞. 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠." -𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐥𝐞

It was quite odd to be on the opposing sides of the ropes. Instead of walking with Noah to the Reaping, just as we used to in years past, four Peacekeekepers (one at every side) walked with me instead. Rather than standing in the crowd amongst girls and boys who reflected my once-present expression, I stood on the stage, with the Victors who had been my role model up until exactly a year ago. Today is Reaping Day. Instead of boundaries, the ropes dividing Victors from the kids felt like chains.

President Snow made no appearance this year. No note was sent. Not even a white rose to make everyone assume he really was in every detail of the Districts built on the blood of every person he has killed.

The female Victors were lined up at the back left side of the stage, and the male Victors on the right. It was odd, seeing the Reaping from a different point of view. At age twelve I was taught to be fearful of July 4th. Finnick was Reaped in my first year of participation. This year, there seemed to be no kids bouncing on the balls of their feet in anticipation. No fire lit in the eldest kid's eyes. Career Academy must not have had a good year with the year of trainees. The next round of Careers would probably be near the 71st or 72nd Games.

Finnick was closest to the back of the center stage, as the most recent Victors sat in the chair nearest the middle. Meaning, I was not far from my brother.

I spotted Lyla, Noah, and Rowan from the crowd to pass the time. Lyla was in the middle row of all girls between the ages of twelve and eighteen. She had not yet turned sixteen. The brown-haired girl wore a black dress this year. In years past, my friend wore vibrant dresses that made it easy to identify in a crowd. Why the sudden change? Lyla thought the color black contradicted beautifully with white.

Rowan and Noah stood next to each other. Rowan noticed my eyes on him and sent me a crooked grin. The boy with black hair picked at his hands and tampered with the hem of his sleeve anxiously. Last year my friends would have jumped at the opportunity to volunteer. This year seemed different in that sort.

Rowan looked straight forward toward the stage, while Noah looked to his right. Lyla looked to her left, smiling at my old Career Partner who has since been paired with another girl from the Academy.

Grace wore one of my old dresses. A white sundress with brown sandals and her hair styled down with mini braids on either side of her head. The expensive silver bracelets on my sister's wrist shone in the sunlight. She stood in the fourteen-year-old section in the column closest to the walkway. Her Career Partner, Liesel, stood for her rights. The year after my Career class, they started partnering people of the same gender together along with the opposite. 

Liesel and Grace held hands, as many people do on Reaping Day. Eventually, it became a tradition. Holding hands with someone at the Reaping is said to bind you to the sea and its containments because only one female and male can enter the arena.

Celeste Vasilou once more took the stage, smiling upon District Four. Some people replied with a grin. Others stared blankly. The Fishing District's escort wore a blue dress that contained small ruffles no more than two inches and made for an open-back style. The dress ended at her upper thigh, showing off her pale as-milk legs. The escort greeted our district in her Capitol accent- high-pitched and stretching words to make them longer. "Welcome," she taps the microphone mindlessly as if she wasn't the one who arrived on the train to District Four. "welcome. Happy Hunger Games," Celeste overlooked the crowd seeking out the two who she is to pick. "And may the odds be ever in your favor."