Status: Current.
Just Remains of an Age
The Reaping
I sat on my perch, eyes trained on a single, grazing form. The thin brush of the string against my fingertips was feather-light; almost untouchable. Then, I let the string loose, the arrow sending itself straight through its mark. A loud thump echoed throughout the woods.
I slid off the tree, eyes glancing around shiftily before I made my way over to my kill.
"Clean." Gabe stood behind me, casting a shadow over the deer I had shot.
I nodded, pulling out the arrow carefully. "Do you doubt my skill just to give me compliments later on?"
Gabe smirked, "Am I that obvious?"
Our laughter bounced off surrounding trees, ruining the dull and eerie silence.
Today was not a good day.
*****************
"You won't get chosen, Frank, I swear to you!"
Frank, the only person I was sure I loved, was my little brother. He looked very similar to me, other than our skin. His was so pale that it looked as if the sun had never graced it. I, on the other hand, inherited my father's dark, tan skin, which he had attained by working in the mines, but I had gotten in birth.
Frank shook as I cradled him in my arms, comforting him as my mother used to do to me.
She was just an empty shell now.
*******
The reaping.
It as the way the Capital punished the Districts for the uprising that happened many years ago. District Thirteen was the instigator, therefore was eliminated.
At this moment, I stood in a roped-in area beside Gabe, who was twitching anxiously. His name was written on one hundred slips of paper and his family still often went hungry.
A woman, whom I had come to know as Effie Trinket strode onto the stage, an ecstatic smile stretching across her freakish lips.
"WELCOME TO THE 70TH ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES! MAY THE ODDS BE EVER IN YOUR FAVOR!"
She smiled brightly, looking over us as if we were but a decoration.
"NOW, LADIES FIRST."
Her perfectly manicured nails dug themselves into the bowl, curling around a slip of paper with some unlucky bastard's name on it.
Effie cleared her throat delicately before calling out, "VICTORIA ASHER!"
A girl with dark, wavy hair slipped out of the rope line, blue eyes flashing around, searching. Her eyes met with a boy's, Ryland, I believe. Victoria looked away after a few seconds, straightened her back and walked up the steps with pride, taking her place beside Effie.
"NOW FOR THE GENTLEMEN!"
The process went at an agonizing pace, this time, one that wasn't good for my heavy heart.
"PATRICK STUMP!"
Then, my heart stopped altogether. No, not him!
I looked toward Patrick, watching him pale considerably, making his blonde hair clash violently with skin. And those-those ocean colored eyes began to swirl with a hurricane of tears.
No! NO!
Without thinking, I ran into the isle screaming, "I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE."
The crowd fell hush, eyes trained on me.
Patrick and I locked gazes, his drowning in water. He mouthed my name.
Patrick knew what he meant to me, what he always would.
I spun around, quickly ascending the steps before I didn't have the will to move. Effie turned to me with the mic, vibrating with excitement. No one ever volunteered!
"AND YOU ARE?"
"I-my name is Peter Wentz the third, ma'am."
The crowd went wild; a miscreant stepping in for a Baker's son?
"WHY DID YOU VOLUNTEER FOR PATRICK?"
"I-I love him, to be honest."
Silence.
"WELL, YOU SURE MUST, SON. LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, LET THE HUNGER GAMES BEGIN!"
Effie expected cheering, but was greeted by silence, only dampened by Frank's loud sobs.
What had I done?
***
I slid off the tree, eyes glancing around shiftily before I made my way over to my kill.
"Clean." Gabe stood behind me, casting a shadow over the deer I had shot.
I nodded, pulling out the arrow carefully. "Do you doubt my skill just to give me compliments later on?"
Gabe smirked, "Am I that obvious?"
Our laughter bounced off surrounding trees, ruining the dull and eerie silence.
Today was not a good day.
*****************
"You won't get chosen, Frank, I swear to you!"
Frank, the only person I was sure I loved, was my little brother. He looked very similar to me, other than our skin. His was so pale that it looked as if the sun had never graced it. I, on the other hand, inherited my father's dark, tan skin, which he had attained by working in the mines, but I had gotten in birth.
Frank shook as I cradled him in my arms, comforting him as my mother used to do to me.
She was just an empty shell now.
*******
The reaping.
It as the way the Capital punished the Districts for the uprising that happened many years ago. District Thirteen was the instigator, therefore was eliminated.
At this moment, I stood in a roped-in area beside Gabe, who was twitching anxiously. His name was written on one hundred slips of paper and his family still often went hungry.
A woman, whom I had come to know as Effie Trinket strode onto the stage, an ecstatic smile stretching across her freakish lips.
"WELCOME TO THE 70TH ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES! MAY THE ODDS BE EVER IN YOUR FAVOR!"
She smiled brightly, looking over us as if we were but a decoration.
"NOW, LADIES FIRST."
Her perfectly manicured nails dug themselves into the bowl, curling around a slip of paper with some unlucky bastard's name on it.
Effie cleared her throat delicately before calling out, "VICTORIA ASHER!"
A girl with dark, wavy hair slipped out of the rope line, blue eyes flashing around, searching. Her eyes met with a boy's, Ryland, I believe. Victoria looked away after a few seconds, straightened her back and walked up the steps with pride, taking her place beside Effie.
"NOW FOR THE GENTLEMEN!"
The process went at an agonizing pace, this time, one that wasn't good for my heavy heart.
"PATRICK STUMP!"
Then, my heart stopped altogether. No, not him!
I looked toward Patrick, watching him pale considerably, making his blonde hair clash violently with skin. And those-those ocean colored eyes began to swirl with a hurricane of tears.
No! NO!
Without thinking, I ran into the isle screaming, "I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE."
The crowd fell hush, eyes trained on me.
Patrick and I locked gazes, his drowning in water. He mouthed my name.
Patrick knew what he meant to me, what he always would.
I spun around, quickly ascending the steps before I didn't have the will to move. Effie turned to me with the mic, vibrating with excitement. No one ever volunteered!
"AND YOU ARE?"
"I-my name is Peter Wentz the third, ma'am."
The crowd went wild; a miscreant stepping in for a Baker's son?
"WHY DID YOU VOLUNTEER FOR PATRICK?"
"I-I love him, to be honest."
Silence.
"WELL, YOU SURE MUST, SON. LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, LET THE HUNGER GAMES BEGIN!"
Effie expected cheering, but was greeted by silence, only dampened by Frank's loud sobs.
What had I done?
***