58th Reaping D4

It was only yesterday that I was floating in the ocean, listening to the waves crash against the jetties. In the far distance, seagulls called, making my delicate ears twitch with every sound that escaped from their loud mouths. My fingers dipped into the water as if they were dolphins falling back into the ocean to find new prey and my cute little toes stayed afloat to keep them from pruning. A smile was plastered to my face. My nose was up, to keep the saltwater from entering and, as always, my mouth was seal. No words would not come from it. My eyes remained shut. Opening them could only ruin the beautiful moment that was unfolding in my mind. This was just the calm before the deadly storm.

Now, I was standing in a crowd of District four members. They were loud. Most were large. My small frame could not stand all this weight being forced into me. I hated this place and these rude people. I didn’t like the friendly citizens either. Most patted me on the back and hoped I have a lovely reaping. Dumbasses. As if being forced into an arena in order to fight to the death would be the best opinion in the world to die. If it wasn’t for the thick smell of salt in the air, I would go insane.

I did not wish to be in the front of the crowd since I figured most careers resided there. I shouldn’t be a citizen here; therefore, I hadn’t the right to share anything with these people. I simply do not belong, especially not with my slender frame and the intentions to help the falling environment. My eyes looked to the Careers. They are strong and some just wanted the fame of being on television. Damn. They are ignorant.

The mayor made his appearance. It was about time. The sooner this was over, the sooner I could enjoy the rest of my day. I had plans. I would go home, change from this ridiculous dress, and, before I would leave for a day at my beach, I would grab my guitar and a tube of sunscreen. I wouldn’t want my pale skin to burn. Perhaps, I could play to my favorite audience – the dry grass on the beach. They always gave me a standing ovation. And, obviously, take a dip in the water and –“Jupiter Vicks!” – swim my day away. Wait? What. How dare the mayor call my name. He must have known I wasn’t playing attention.

Perhaps that wasn’t the case. I looked up from my wipe away board up at the mayor to find eyes on me. I received death glares from the careers. Eager ones from those Hunger Games fanatics and, behind me, terrified looks from my parents. It was as if the world had stopped just to set their eyes on me. I was the female tribute from District 4. I don’t know if I like this.

I took one step toward the stage were I would make my announcement. That one step took too long as it seemed like an hour since I moved. By all odds, I was chosen for this position. Odd. I never once signed up for a tessera since my family did not need one. My odd name was in that bowl three times. How did this happen? I took another step then quickly moved my head toward my parents. My mother was crying. I think that means I should too. I would not dare. I took another step. I guess fate wanted this for me. Another foot moved. I would live if I were to give up this title. The crowd unfolded before me. But this belonged to me. For some reason, I was meant to own this title.

And then I was on stage. I looked down at my wipe away board. There was a drawing of a stick girl swimming in a terribly drawn ocean. I guess my schedule had been opened up. I pulled my dress to my wipe away board to erase that terrible picture of myself. I pulled my tablet to my chest. This is where I should speak. I should yell my name and my decision to the crowd. But that would not be fun. Everyone thought I was mute. I wouldn’t want to ruin the illusion. I let the board come from my chest and wrote. In all capital letter, my decision was written. I ACCEPT.