District 6 Reaping
Karen Wilkerson:
I wait by the door anxiously... my mother should be home from work by now. The reapings are soon.
Five minutes go by.
Ten.
Fifteen.
Twenty.
Before I know it, a whole half hour goes by an my mother still isn't home from work.
I'm about to go out and find her when I hear a knock at my door. I go to open it, and I see two Peacekeepers... I recognize the older one as Severus, the one who's always looking to punish someone, but I don't recognize the younger one. Maybe he's a new apprentice.
"Good day, sir." I say, giving a small curtsy. The younger one smiles at me, but Severus only gives me a curt nod.
"Are you Mariah Wilkinson's daughter?"
"Yessir." I say politely. "But she's not here right now..."
"I know she's not." Severus says pointedly. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small piece of paper. "This should explain everything. Kai, we must go."
The younger Peacekeeper- Kai, apparently- follows him, closing the door.
I examine the letter:
____________________________________________________________
Dear Sir or Ma'am-
Ms. Mariah Wilkinson has been arrested. She has been caught stealing several dollars worth of expensive goods. The punishment has not yet been decided, but it will be extreme. She will be at the reaping, as it is illegal not to attend.
Sincerely,
John Ratcliffe, Mayor of District Six.
___________________________________________________________
My family was poor, but we managed to hide it well. I never had friends come over, and I always made sure my sisters and me looked presentable. Now that my mother was caught stealing goods, this practically screamed that we were poor.
I groaned, crumpling the letter up and throwing it in a trashcan.
"What's wrong, Karen?"
I was greeted by my three sisters: Aria, Danica and Carissa.
"Oh, ah..." I think of an excuse, "It's nothing important."
"Where's Mama?" 5-year-old Aria asks me.
"At work." I say patiently. "Go get dressed for the reaping, and let's go."
Aria and Danica run into the room they share, and Carissa follows me into the room we share.
"No, really. Where's Mom?" She asks. At ten years old, Carrie is very observant, and can always tell when I'm hiding something.
I lower my voice. "Mom got arrested."
"WHAT?!" She screeches, and I shush her hurriedly.
"She got caught stealing something; I don't know what." I whispered quietly. "We can't tell the younger girls about this; they'll get scared."
"That's lying though." Carrie says.
"It's not lying," I justify, "It's... withholding information."
"Still lying, if you ask me."
Carrie puts on a cream-colored dress, paired with shoes that are probably two sizes too big on her. I put on a black skirt, a plain white shirt, and a red sweater over that. I put on my penny loafers, which are too small and pinch my toes.
"Let's go, Carrie." Carissa follows me into the living room of the apartment, where Aria and Danica are sitting, being unusually quiet, as Danica braids Aria's hair.
I give them a once-over... Aria is wearing a gray skirt and a blue wool sweater, Danica is in a patchwork skirt paired with a white collared shirt. They look so grown-up, even for being five and eight.
"Ready?" I ask. I have no need to do my own hair... I tied it back into a ponytail, and Carrie left hers down.
"Yep." The younger girls put on their shoes and we head into town.
We're careful to hold hands on the way... District Six is relatively big, and cars drive constantly. Anything can happen if you're not careful.
Eventually we arrive at the center of town, where the reaping will shortly commence. The Capitol people aren't here yet, so we just sort of stand around and watch people come in.
It's then that I see a familiar face.
"Patrick!" I call out.
The tall sixteen-year-old waves for me to follow him, and so I do. We wind up in a back alley.
Patrick Moon, my boyfriend. Or so I like to call him. He's two years older than me, and is a popular guy at school. We've been meeting secretly for the past six months, and how wonderful those six months have been.
"I've missed you," I hug the tall boy and look up in his eyes. "Why haven't you come to see me?"
"I'm sorry, Karen..." He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "Things have just been so busy at home with my dad and my siblings... do you hate me?" Patrick looks genuinely sad for a minute.
I sigh... I can never stay mad at him for long. "No, I don't."
Patrick puts his hands on my shoulders. "If you get reaped... I'll take care of your sisters and your mom. Okay? I promise. And you'll do the same? If I get reaped, I mean?"
I nod my head fervently. "Of course." I lean in to kiss his soft lips, but I only wind up getting his cheek.
"I... I'll see you after this, Karen." He hurries out with a somewhat anxious look on his face... he must just be worried about the reaping.
I'm about to go back when I hear voices. I hide behind a garbage can and listen.
"But Patrick... what if I'm picked? Or worse, what if YOU'RE picked? I love you..." It's a girl's voice, and one that I don't recognize right away.
"Neither of us will be picked. Your name is only in there seven times." This one is a male voice... Patrick? "Don't worry, Chris. You'll be safe."
"...I love you." The voice belongs to Christine Nolan, a girl at my school who is a year older than me. She's very sweet to other people, but doesn't like me for some reason.
There's a moment of silence before I hear, "Hey, what were you and Karen doing earlier? Are you guys, like, friends or something?"
Yes, I want to scream, I'm his girlfriend!
"...Karen? She's, ah..." Patrick thinks for a moment, "She's my little sister. I never told you?"
"No, you didn't... She's never at your place when I come over." There's confusion in Chris' voice.
I wanna burst into tears right then and there... how could Patrick lie about me like this? Doesn't he love me?
"She babysits after school. Those Wilkinson girls." Patrick says dismissively. "I don't know how their mother affords it, though. Come on, let's just get back to the square. The reaping's gonna happen any minute now."
They leave, and I go out when I'm sure the coast is clear.
"Karen!"
I'm swooped up in someone's bone-crushing hug. I start to struggle, but I realize it's only my mother.
"Mom, it's you..." I say. She lets go and I pull back. "Where were you this morning? I was so worried, what were you-"
"Now's not the time." My mom says hurriedly, "I'll explain after the reaping, I promise. Go stand with your age group."
I get in line... all the Capitol people are here now. My finger is roughly jabbed with a needle and I'm herded into the pen with the other 14-year-old girls.
"Hey, Karen, you look burnt out. What happened?" I'm face-to-face with a dark-haired girl that's in my grade. Her name escapes me... Susan?
"Wha? Oh... nothing." I rub my eyes, making them redder than they probably already are.
A Capitol attendant comes onto the stage... she's wearing a dress made entirely out of feathers, and her hair is all spiked up. It looks like it would hurt if someone touched it.
"Hello, hello." This attendant's happiness is clearly forced. "It is time once again... for the 39th Annual Hunger Games." She turns her head to the screen, where we watch a video about the Dark Days... well, most people watch. I focus my eyes on the screen, but my mind is elsewhere. The words, although I barely hear them, I remember too well.
"War, terrible war. Widows, orphans, a motherless child. This was the uprising that rocked our land. Thirteen districts rebelled against the country that fed them, loved them, protected them. Brother turned on brother until nothing remained.
And then came the peace, hard fought, sorely won. A people rose up from the ashes and a new era was born.
But freedom has a cost.
When the traitors were defeated, we swore as a nation we would never know this treason again.
And so it was decreed, that each year, the various districts of Panem would offer up in tribute, one young man and woman, to fight to the death in a pageant of honor, courage and sacrifice. The lone victor, bathed in riches, would serve as a reminder of our generosity and our forgiveness.
This is how we remember our past. This is how we safeguard our future."
"How enthralling!" The attendant says with excitement. "Such a beautiful masterpiece on what our ancestors went through. But now, we must select our tribute."
She goes over to reaping bowl number one, and picks a slip from the middle of the bowl.
"Mark Titus." The attendant reads the name with enthusiasm. No one comes forward at first, but eventually I recognize the tribute who's been selected.
Mark ... the inventor's son. The weird kid who always sits in the back of the classroom. People make fun of him not only for his father, but for his height and his dreams. Mark is short at only five feet tall, but his intellect doesn't hold back, size-wise. I don't know him well, but I know of him.
The dark-eyed sixteen-year-old gives a weak wave to the cameras, and the escort goes over to the second reaping bowl. She picks a name right from the top.
I close my eyes.
I cross my fingers.
I hold my breath.
I say a prayer.
"Karen..."
I tense for a minute, but then I relax. There's another Karen in school; Karen Davis. Maybe it's her?
"...Wilkinson. Please come forward, dear."
I'm shocked all of a sudden... out of all the names, MINE was picked?
I look around, tears in my eyes, looking for an escape... but it's useless.
I come forward and make my way up to my impending death. I shake hands with Mark, and we stand out and look at our district.
I'm going into the Hunger Games.
Lets have a round of applause for my friend, whom from this point forward will be referred to as Affinity. This was an amazing chapter! Do you guys like Karen? I can't believe that we are halfway through the reapings! Who is your favorite tribute so far?
Next update will be Tuesday!
~A.K.A. Anonymous