“Wakey wakey, boys!” Mrs Coulomb bawled at five am, as punctual as ever. All twenty five of us groaned in unison, sounding like background actors in a zombie film, as we were pulled from sleep by the strip lighting flickering into life with the usual whingey buzz above us. Mornings are torturous anyway at the orphanage (have you ever had to share a bathroom with another two dozen guys? Well, you have to wait ages before you can pee) but today was Reaping Day, which made it all the more agonizing.
“Lu! Come on!” A cold hand grabbed my ankle and shook it gently. I peeked out from under my pillow to see Coulomb’s careworn face at the foot of my bed. “Your breakfast will be going cold, love. Don’t want Nickel helping himself to extra eggs and bacon, do we?”
“He’s welcome to it; I hate fry ups anyway.” I mumbled, pulling my duvet back over my head. “I’m not hungry anyway.”
“You’ve got to eat, Lumen! Everyone’s nervous, Lu, but we all just have to get through the next few hours and then it’ll be all over.”
I scoffed. Mrs Coulomb was always a glass-half-full, optimistic kind of person, but even she couldn’t fake a grin convincingly on Reaping Day. Think about it: most parents in District Five only had two or three kids to worry about when Reaping Day comes around each year, but Coulomb had a whole dormitory of sons to fear for. I don’t know how she coped so well when the rest of the District seemed to be up in arms, drowning in a sea of worry.
Yet every year, she and the other matrons and chaperones managed to try and lighten the mood with a cooked breakfast, a hot drink and a present for everyone one of us in the form of a ‘lucky’ penny in a fancy-wrapped matchbox, accompanied with a twist of fabric containing dried fruit. They even made gifts for kids that were still too young to be reaped, just so they didn’t feel like they were missing out, though there matchboxes homed a small pretty bead or button along with their fruit rather than a penny. Apart from shoes and food, and a single toy or book on our birthdays or at Christmas, Reaping Day was the only time we received anything new. Even our clothes were second hand, straight from donators or charity shops. Even so, the attempts to make The Reaping a less daunting day were fruitless.
“Want my breakfast, Burd?” I asked her, nudging my plate towards her.
“You have it, it’s yours.” Burd yawned, pushing my plate back across the table. Her brown eyes were circled with a week’s worth of dark purple sleepless nights and a lifetime of crying until she’d had no more tears to be shed. Her lank orange-brown ringlets were pulled back into a pony tail and secured with a green rag tied into a bow, and she shook from head to foot. “I so scared, Lu.”
Burd Serkit was pretty much the only friend that I actually really cared about. Everyone thought she was strange, but I thought she was magical, right from when we were kids. I just got her and loved her while no one else seemed to, and I still don’t know why. She was so quiet she was practically mute; she wasn’t particularly pretty; she couldn’t sing or dance any better than most people, and she was always so jumpy and on edge that even most of the matrons thought that she wasn’t all that right in the head, though they knew she was perfectly harmless.
Away from school and the orphanage, when it was just me and her, Burd was so much different, however. She was intelligent, funny and had the best imagination. Back when we were eight or nine, I can remember that we both used to bunk off school on a regular basis and would play out in the fields and hills to the edge of the District. We were pirates, royalty, dragon slayers, master mind criminals, farmers, explorers, wolf pack leaders, soldiers, we were the last humans on Earth, but most of all we were inseparable. I couldn’t, and still can’t, imagine life without her.
I reached out across the table and stilled her trembling hands. I could see that she was descending into the throes of a panic attack and felt utterly powerless in terms of helping her, so I just watched as she struggled to gulp down enough air, as her pale face got paler still. The dining hall bell suddenly rung out to signal the end of breakfast and the start of the Reapings. Chaperones and matrons started to dismiss each table, separating boys from girls, and teenagers from children from babies.
“I can’t do this, Lumen! I feel sick!” Burd said, her voice desperate and her breathing erratic. She gripped my hands so tightly that her finger nails dug into my sweaty palms.
“We’ll be fine, Burd. I’ll see you back here at lunch, okay?” I promised, as a matron put an arm around her small shoulders and ushered her away. I carried on watching as she was hurried into a line with the other girls out of the orphanage and onto the courtyard. She looked back from over her shoulder one last time, her eyes wide with panic, before disappearing out the door.
“Lu-man? Want some?” Nickel offered his matchbox of banana chips and raisins to me as I carried him on my hip on the way down to the District plaza. I suppose I should’ve been honoured that he wanted to share his treat with me since he was renowned for pinching food from other people’s plates and hoarding it away in his pockets for later, but I felt too ill to eat.
“Maybe later, Nicky. Try and be a good boy, okay?” I whispered, setting him down with the other littlies behind a roped off corner of the town square. Nickel nodded vigorously, looking as though he was having some sort of seizure, but I knew he’d keep his promise. I kissed the top of his curly blond head goodbye and joined onto a line of guys more my own age. We waited.
Johnny Ball was our last victor, a typically red-headed District Five resident with a bum-chin and a ridiculous goatee, and was now stood next to some blowsy Capitol woman/girl with oversized balloon boobs on the stage, all cheesy smiles. He couldn’t keep his leering eyes off her cleavage.
“Ladies first! As ever, I shall select a name, totally at random, from the Reaping Pool.” Boob announced, strutting over to the girl’s name ball. Her hand delved deep into the glass bowl and my heart nearly stopped. Please, please, please don’t let it be Burd…
“Cynthia Jaaaacksooon!” Capitol woman called out, waving the slip of paper in the air as if the poor girl had won a prize. Cynthia, who I think I’d seen around school, looked hopelessly tiny beside the Capitol girl and Johnny. She reminded me a lot of Burd; she had red hair just a little longer than Burd’s and was just as small and fragile looking, as if she would smash into pieces if she was to trip over. Every hair on the back of my neck bristled and a cold rush of adrenaline shot through me, as well as a dose of guilt. I couldn’t help but feel relieved that Cynthia had been picked and not my Burd. Now the only person I had to worry about was me.
Johnny started to head towards the Male Reaping Bowl. I noticed my hands were sweaty.
He made some lame gag about seeing ‘who in the Ball has the balls for the Hunger Games’. I didn’t laugh.
His fingers reached down into the glass sphere. I tried to kid myself that it would never be me.
But it was.
And my heart stopped.
“Lumen! No!” Burd screamed and screamed so hard that a Peacekeeper had to hold her back in case she charged up onto the stage after me. I stood next to Johnny, his arm wrapped my shoulders in a pally fashion, both wanting to cry and to punch him in his stupid, Capitolised face. I rather hoped it’d be the latter, but it wasn’t- two tears escaped my eyes and I cursed myself internally. I watched, unblinking, as a pale Mrs Coulomb hurried from the crowd and tried to console Burd, holding her closely and tightly. I didn’t hear anything as Boob Woman ended the Reaping ceremony, and, frankly, I didn’t care.
“This way, young man.” A peacekeeper pressed a gun in the small of my back and steered me down the stairs and into the square. As the crowd piled out, Cynthia and I were escorted to the Justice Building. We waited for a minute as papers were signed; it only took a minute. One minute was all it took for them to write off our lives to the Capitol, like they were nothing. One look at Cynthia Jackson and I knew we were thinking the same thing; what had we done to deserve this? And how on earth did the Capitol ever gain this much power to be allowed to play with other people’s existences like this? I thought about making a run for freedom to force the Peacekeepers to shoot me down, but I didn’t. It’d be cowardly and meaningless, since they’d just choose another boy to be their pawn in this year’s Hunger Games. Besides, I at least wanted to see Burd before I had chance to die.
I walked into the private, back room of the Justice Building, expecting her to be there, maybe with a matron, but the only people there were myself and a single Peacekeeper. He removed his helmet and looked at me solemnly as I approached him.
“When are my friends coming to see me?” I asked, detecting fear in my own voice.
“I’m so sorry, sir. Visiting time has been and gone. No one came. We would have called you through earlier if someone had showed up.” He said, placing a hand on my shoulder. I pulled away, unable to comprehend what he said for a moment. When it had sunk in, I felt my eyes prickle with tears for the second time that day.
“Not even Burd? Mrs Coulomb?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. Never had I ever, in all my nightmares of being reaped that I’d had throughout my life, had I ever thought something like this would happen. That I’d be abandoned like this. I don’t mean to sound so smug, but, for an orphan, I had loads of people that cared about me; Mrs Coulomb, Burd, Nickel, a whole bunch of people from school, teachers included. I wasn’t used to the feeling of loneliness, and I didn’t like the new experience one bit.
“No, sir.” The Peacekeeper said, with a shake of his blond, square head. “We must leave for the Capitol now. I hope you understand.”
“Oh,” I took a deep breath in an attempt to snap back to reality, to feel something. “Yes. I understand.”
“Lumen!” Burd bawled, running at me as soon as I stepped onto the train. I held her so tightly it was a wonder she didn’t break. Tears soaked my face, her hair, my white tee-shirt. I didn’t want her to let go ever again. “It’s not fair!”
“They told me you weren’t coming!”
“Lu-man!” I looked up, still clinging onto Burd. Nickel was sat on Mrs Coulomb’s hip, reaching out for me. His face was terrified, his blue eyes as wide as saucers in his head. Coulomb just nodded at me, forcing a thin-lipped smile, as I took him from her with one arm, holding onto Burd with my other. “Lu-man? Where you go?”
“He’s going to the Capitol, sweetheart.” Coulomb said quietly, ruffling his hair. Her eyes sparkled as she held back her tears. “But he’ll be okay, Nickel. Don’t worry.”
“He has to be okay,” Burd sobbed into my chest, her left fist balled up and hitting me in the ribs. I didn’t know what to say to anyone. I was just so happy they had come, I wasn’t even angry at the cruel trick the Peacekeeper had played by telling me that no one had wanted to say goodbye to me.
Nickel clambered free from my arms and scurried behind Mrs Coulomb, holding onto her hand fearfully. She squeezed his little fingers comfortingly before picking him up and setting him down on the seat next to her. I joined them both, Burd beside me, huddled under my arm as if she really was a baby bird taking shelter under its mother’s wing. I looked at Coulomb. She looked at me. Then, as if someone had turned a tap on, tears began to stream down her cheeks silently.
“Oh, Lu!” she cried, burying her face in my hair and kissing my forehead. “Why did it have to be you? Why did it have to be one of my boys?”
“I’ll be alright, Boss, I swear.” I told her, my stomach twisted on itself like a pretzel. “You know me; I’m as tough as that roast beef they give us on a Sunday at the orphanage. I’m basically bulletproof!”
She laughed hoarsely, sounding as if she was choking on something, and rocked me in her arms like I really was her baby, like I was the same size as Nickel. I hadn’t really realized until now, but she was the closest thing I’d ever had- the closest thing I ever will have- to a real mother.
“I know you will. You’re too stubborn to just give up, aren’t you?” She said, letting go of me finally. I suddenly noticed how old she was starting to look. Grey hairs were beginning to make themselves known amongst her wild mane of red hair, making her look a bit like an OAP carrot or something.
“Too right,” I said, nodding.
“My dear tributes,” Occisora, the lead Game Maker, or so I had presumed, started. “Friends. Family. We are gathered here today to celebrate the lives of these brave people, many of whom will unfortunately die.”
“Fucking cheerful! It’s like she’s giving us all a bloody funeral,” I whispered to Burd. She looked gorgeous decked out in a new silk dress, courtesy of the Capitol, of course. No way could the orphanage provide such nice clothes for us all. Burd held my hand under the mahogany table.
“But not today! Today we shall live. We shall cherish life. We shall cherish the company of those we love.” Burd squeezed my fingers. I felt myself go pink on the inside and out. A warm flush went straight to my cheeks. I squeezed her palm back. “With good food and music, I hope to make these last moments before the Games pleasant moments. I want you all to know that I am not your enemy. I want to help you. Every one of you. And as a sign of my good will, the left-overs of this feast will be divided and bagged so that each of your family and friends will have food to take back to each of your Districts. Now let’s eat, drink and be merry.”
Some people in the room stood- most of which were from the Career Districts- and gave her a round of applause, as did a few from the poorer Districts such as Ten and Twelve, where any extra food received, no matter what circumstances had led to the donation were, was a blessing. I was surprised and shocked when Coulomb rose from her seat, tugging me and Nickel up at the same time. I did as I was told, as did Burd, though I wasn’t sure why we were clapping for this woman. She was still going to kill me. She could say what she liked about ‘not being the enemy’ but, to me, she most definitely was.
Occisora left the room and we were allowed to tuck in. I hate to admit it, but it was the best meal I’d ever eaten. It was a Christmas spread of turkey, gammon and chicken, and many other vegetables, some I’d never even seen before. Most of the food was delicious and I wolfed it all down after smothering it with gravy so my entire plate was practically swimming in the stuff. I never knew how good food was up until that day- I’d always thought of it as a necessity, merely fuel in my tank, rather than something to be enjoyed.
“Try these!” I said ladling out a large portion of tiny, baby-sized cabbages called ‘sprouts’ onto Nickel’s plate. He reached out for one with his chubby hand and shoved it in his mouth whole. Nickel’s face slowly began to implode on itself as he chewed before he spat out the semi-digested vegetable out into his palm and passed it back to me.
“Nasty!” he shrieked, jumping off his chair and disappearing under the table. Coulomb sighed and attempted to grab him but missed. I wiped Nickel’s saliva from my fingers on one of the fancy red napkins before offering to get him.
“Thank you, darling.” Coulomb said, collecting up the plates and taking them to a rack in the corner of the room for them to be collected and washed. “I’ll get you some dessert.”
Burd and I slipped under the table and chased Nickel around while he giggled. Eventually, Burd caught hold of one of his ankles and dragged him towards her across the beeswax polished floorboards. He burst into peels of sunny laughter as she tipped him upside down and blew a raspberry on his round little stomach. I laughed too, crawling over to them both. Burd let Nickel go and he toddled off, trying to look up ladies’ skirts while they ate. Burd giggled as we watched him scamper about but suddenly looked sad.
“It doesn’t feel right. We shouldn’t be celebrating.” She said, her head hanging low. Her red hair fell like a veil over her face. I pushed I back and placed a hand on her cheek.
“I promise, Burd, I’ll be okay.” I said quietly, looking her straight in her chocolate brown eyes. She blinked and tears splashed down her face. “Don’t cry, please.”
“I’m sorry. I’m spoiling it for you. I’m so sorry.” She apologised again. I stopped her from apologising third time with a kiss, but it only made her cry even more.
“It’s only a few weeks. I can last that long. Then I’ll be a Victor and I’ll have my own house this time next year. Won’t that be great? Then we’ll both be sixteen. We can get married, Burd. Remember when we got married before, at school? We can do it again but for real this time. And- and maybe, later on, we can have our own family to make up for the families that we never had. We can adopt Nickel. This is a good thing!” I said fervently, going a little bit heavy with the fantasy. But Burd has the best imagination and she was obviously picturing it too. A tiny smile lit up her face.
“Promise?”
“Of course I do,” I said. I’d never meant anything more in my life.