District Seven Reaping
Axel Bayer:
“Nice throw, Benson!” I call to the fourteen-year-old boy encouragingly.
Walker Benson grins at me. “Thanks, Axel.” He goes to retrieve his axe from the tree.
“That’s good for today, boys!” I call out to the class.
Most of the class goes out of the forest and back into town, except two boys.
Kyle McKosky and Walker Benson… two of my best students, and two of my four closest friends. Walker is a quiet kid, but he’s tough and has a lot of grit. Kyle is my wingman and- when it comes to girls- he’s the complete opposite of me. I don’t know how the two of us managed to become friends.
Kyle goes to one of the trees and pulls out a tomahawk that was left by one of the other students. “Oh, dude. Guess who was waiting outside class: Holly Forrester.”
“THE Holly Forrester? The hottest girl in school?” Walker asked in awe. Kyle nodded.
I have NO clue what she was doing here… this class was for boys, and boys only.
“Go talk to her, dude.” Kyle pushed me forward enthusiastically, causing me to barrel into someone.
“Rude much?”
The someone was Holly Forrester. Most guys found her hot and scary at the same time… she stood taller than most girls at a full six feet, but her confidence made her seem even taller than that. Her brownish-red hair was styled in a boyish cut that still had some femininity to it, and her dark green eyes stood out against her pale skin.
“Hey. Bayer. I’m talkin’ to you, aren’t you gonna say somethin’?”
I snapped back to reality. “Oh. Um…” I looked down at her face, realizing I was on top of her in a somewhat suggestive manner. “I-I’m sorry, Miss Forrester.” I got up quickly, my face flushing. I sure hope it didn’t show… heroes never fumble or get embarrassed. “I-is there something I can do for you?”
“I wanna know why you turned me away the other day.” She got up too, crossing her arms in front of her.
“Y-you know the rules, Miss Forrester.” I spoke, trying to gain some of my familiar calm and collected manner back. “This class is for boys and boys only.”
“Axel Bayer, you are so FULL of it!” She yelled at me. The girl scoffed.
“I don’t make the rules, Miss Forrester. I just enforce them.” I say calmly, trying to hide my nervousness. Truth be told, I HADN’T been the one to make up the rules. It had been this way for quite a few years.
“Drop the ‘Miss’ nonsense and call me Holly.” She growled, “You act like you care.”
“Holly…” I speak again, “You have to understand. You can’t just change rules after forty-nine plus years; it just doesn’t work.”
“Well, why not?” Holly spat. “It was forty-nine years ago for a REASON. Look, I don’t even care anymore. I just came to tell you that you better get ready for the reaping. It’s in a couple hours. With any luck, you and I will be the ones going into the arena.”
“You should think positive.” I called to her. “It’s our last year after all. Maybe after to celebrate, you and I could go out.”
“THAT’S a laugh. The day I go out with a guy is the day I die.” Holly leaned against a tree. “Look, I’m going. And unless you WANT to be whipped by Peacekeepers, I suggest you do the same.” She ran quick as she could, presumably back to her house.
“So how’d it go?” Walker asked me eagerly. “Did you get her?”
“Ehhh… Not exactly.” I said. “But I think I was close.” I added. That part may have been a stretch.
“You’ll get her.” Kyle said, “I have faith in ya.”
“Thanks, bro.” I give the sixteen-year-old a fist bump, and I give one to Walker so I don’t leave him out. “Alright… let’s go get ready. Good luck!”
We go our separate paths, and I enter my house. It’s fairly big, but too big for the family that lives in it… my dad, my uncle and me.
“Hey pa, I’m home!” I call out, only to be shushed.
“Your uncle is sleeping.” He whispered.
“Again? That’s the third time this WEEK he’s been fallin’ asleep in the middle of the-”
“I know, I know.” Dad whispered, “He’s been so busy with the lumberjacking, it wipes him right out. You’ll understand too, I’m sure.” He looks serious for a minute. “Axel…”
“Yes, Dad?”
“I want you to know something.” He puts his hands on my shoulders. “I know you haven’t been reaped, and I know I don’t say this a lot, but…” Dad takes a deep breath, “I love you, son. No matter what happens, no matter how tough I may be on you… remember that.”
I nod. “I will. I love you too, old man.” I give my dad an awkward hug… I haven’t hugged him since I was a kid… and a little, little kid at that.
He gives me an awkward hug back and goes to wake up my uncle. I take the opportunity to get ready… I toss on some black pants and a loose, flannel shirt that is plaid and red. I toss on some moccasins and look in our one mirror. My hair is kept short, so there’s really no need to put any effort into it.
I look nice… confident. Sure of myself. This is my last year…
My dad and my uncle are waiting by the door… my dad in his best work clothes, and my uncle in pajama bottoms and no shirt. I guess it’s true that no one can make him dress if he doesn’t want to.
The walk to the square is silent, which is just as fine with me. I have a lot on my mind… the Hunger Games, hoping my friends don’t get reaped… how much I hate the Capitol… Holly…
I’m prodded awake by the Capitol attendant roughly pricking my finger… do they HAVE to enjoy it so much?
“Go ahead.” She says to me. I go to the eighteen-year-old boys’ pen just as the next kid- a little boy- is prodded forward.
I look around for any familiar face… at first I don’t see one, but I see Holly toward the middle, consoling her thirteen-year-old sister Aspen, and her brother whose name I forget. Ryan, I think?
“Stop WORRYING, Rowan.” Holly says tenderly, “You’re too young to be reaped. And I only have this year left. Now go stand over with Grandpa.” Rowan. THAT’S it. The little boy runs back into the crowd, joining an elderly figure who I suppose is his grandfather.
“Aspen, come on!” Two young girls step forward. Holly gives her sister a hug, and Aspen runs toward the back.
Holly comes up toward the front and hurries into the eighteen-year-old pen. She has a more confident look to her face than I expected from her… a sharp contrast from the tenderness she gave her brother and sister.
I try to sneak another glance at Holly, but I’m cut off by a series of gasps from the crowd. I look at the stage to see what they’re gasping about, and then I see.
There’s a giant cake onstage… a CAKE? In District SEVEN, of all places? Was the Capitol being nice and attempting to make peace?
Suddenly, something came OUT of the cake. Was it a Peacekeeper? A bomb? The crowd waited in anticipation and fear for what it might be.
Thankfully, it was just an escort. The sugary icing covered her body in select parts, and there was cake in places that I don’t think I’ll mention.
“Hello, hello!” She sang out. “I am Cleopatra Rockette, and the time has come again… time for the 39th annual Hunger Games! And as eager as I am to select our tributes, we have a word from the Capitol.”
“War. Terrible war…” The video could’ve bored just about anyone to tears, but I decided to bear with it because this was my last year.
The thought of a Quarter Quell suddenly popped into my head… what if I WASN’T safe next year? What if the next Quarter Quell was tributes aged 19 on up?!
Don’t think about it, Axel, I tell myself. Don’t think about it.
“Wasn’t that BEAUTIFUL?” Cleopatra said in her sing-songey voice, wiping a fake tear from her eye. “But now it is the most EXCITING part. Let’s select our female tribute.” She dips her hand in the reaping bowl, like how a bird swoops in for its prey. She comes out with a small slip of paper and reads the name,
“Holly Forrester?” She calls out.
Wait a minute. I know that name… Holly Forrester?!
“Get your filthy hands OFF of me, I can GO myself!” Holly snarls at two Peacekeepers attempting to herd her out of the eighteen-year-old female pen.
I look for her sister, who I can’t see, but I make a silent pact with myself to protect her if Holly needs it. There’s no way her grandpa can take care of her single-handedly.
Cleopatra asks if there are any volunteers, and there’s no one but the wind that makes a sound.
“And now for our dashing male tribute.” She takes out a slip of paper.
“Walker Benson?” Cleopatra calls out.
“That’s JANK!” I call from my spot in the eighteen-year-olds pen. I crawl out from under the rope and run up to the stage before Walker can even comprehend what’s going on.
“I volunteer.” I said bravely.
“Well, well… a volunteer.” Cleopatra says in an uncertain tone of voice. “What’s your name, dear?”
“I’m Axel Bayer, and I’m taking his place.” I say confidently.
So everyone, that was reaping 7, also written by my dear friend, Affinity. What do you guys think of the tributes? Any thoughts or ideas? Also, weird story, how does a chapter in the middle of the book suddenly get 6 'reads' when the rest of the book only has two....? I don't know, I was looking at the stats and realized that district 5's reaping had 6 reads. Huh. Ether way it made my day. LOL, ok guys the next chapter, written by mwa, will be up Saturday!
~A.K.A Anonymous