[74th] The Reaping - District Eleven

desi.

    I've never been the type to stand on the edge of the world to take a peek, things such as this are only meant for those who are willing to plummet. The annual day just for the Capitol, has finally arrived. The day when their homes are filled with lust and wonder, while ours fill with fear and torment. I imagine all the faces  of their young lighting up with joy as they watch they watch as other children their age walk through a door never to return. In the games there was no victor, you simply died, or walked back through those doors standing, but if you were lucky enough to still be standing, you were the most unlucky of them all.

    I can feel a gust of cool air on the back of my neck, I press my head toward my spine, the skin on the back of my neck wrinkling ever so slightly. I feel the gust once more and this time my eyelids flutter open to reveal my caramel irises. The sun had just barely began pushing itself through the break in my curtains, and is now obnoxiously lighting up the other half of my room. I waste as much time as possible dragging myself from the comfort of my sheets and making my way to our makeshift bathroom. 

    We of course didn't have functioning plumbing or really any proper way to wash ourselves besides filling a large tub with boiling water and letting it sit, and because I had little interest in all that manual labor I only decided to boil enough water to wash my strawberry locks. After a few moments of scrubbing and rinsing and repeating I notice that I am running short on time, I'd rather not deal with whatever sass the Peace Keepers may have in store for today, so I don't fully dry my hair and I pull it up into a messy wet looking bun. 

    Within the next few moments I am wearing a pale yellow dress with a garden of small pink embroidered flowers. I have my grandmothers locket around my neck, and my mothers baby rattle tucked into the palm of my hand, it seemed to bring my serenity. Almost like it brought me back to a time when she cared was different, before this world changed her. I began walking to the towns center alone following a pack of other girls between the ages of twelve and eighteen. I watch as they walk in a rather somber way, just as I, their heads hung low and their feet marching continuously. 

     It had all become such a routine for us older ones, we were part of a herd, slowly making our way to the men with guns. Once we had finished with our registration, which really meant their way to be sure we didn't skip out, we all stood in the towns center patiently. I watch as a rather eccentric man steps onto stage, his appearance as typical as they come. His voice spine shuttering and rather sharp to the ear.

    After his draining speech about how great the Capitol is, and how they have over come so much hate. The hate that apparently WE district people caused. He plays the same video that projects on the same shitty screen every year. The mans eyes well with the most unsettling of tears and his face lights up at the so called "inspiring" film. I let my weight drop into my right hip, my hands crossed over each other along my chest. I was tired and I simply wanted them to send the poor souls off to their deaths so we could all get on. 

    His hand finally reached into the bowl titles females, and out with his grasp came a small scrap of paper. I begin tapping my foot in frustration as he waves the paper in the air trying to get some sort of reaction.

"Desimae Warble"

    My foot stops, my face lightens, and my stomach turns. All of these things happen involuntarily I had turned sheepish. I swallow what feels like a rock and begin walking forward, though I guess I must have been walking too slow for their taste because within seconds my arms where grasped by the men in white and I was practically dragged on stage. I stand behind the man now looking at my toes. Had I known my time had come for slaughter I would have at least let my hair dry.