Reaping Day

The District 10 escort steps up on stage and smiles with blindingly white teeth. She starts speaking in a high pitched voice, "Welcome everyone to the Reapings! Today one young man and woman will be chosen to participate in the 29th Annual Hunger Games!" She steps up to the big bowls containing the names of every child in the district, from 12 to 18. Her hands hover above the bowls for a second, as if deciding something. "Now then, Ladies first!" she says, and reaches into the bowl filled with girls names...

.:The two tributes "Aurie Tarkit and Aaron Equine" had been chosen for slaughter, all that would be left would be to cart them off for their grand appearance in the Capitol. "Now then, are there any volunteers?" The escort asked as their two tributes joined them, on stage.

Another year... another reaping. one more round of this political ass-kissing BS and she'd be free of it... only to have to watch her sister endure 5 more years of it. Well so be it. This also included getting into her Sunday best, which given the family's economic state, wasn't much. still, it involved shoes, as well as clothes that were not loose and airy the way she liked them, and this was disappointing. There weren't even any cool patterns of blood flecks. Oh well... just one more year.

She saw faces old and new, from the hardened older kids who were used to this bloody grind, to the terrified littler kids, many of whom couldn't grasp the concept of killing someone, or were worried about getting killed themselves. she smirked smugly to herself as she remembered that even at age 12, the little nearly-deaf girl's rigid expression had struck fear into the hearts of some of the other kids her age. she wasn't afraid of being reaped, and this mentality persisted over the last 5 years. She wasn't even worried if her sister Lillith was reaped. she'd just punch her way through the crowds till she could volunteer the hell out of that spot. That was a special case though. she had no interest in volunteering for any old schmuck... but preserving the integrity of her baby sister as well as showing her how to outsmart 23 other kids in a death tournament was on Lyndis' bucket list provided that certain conditions were met. otherwise, it could wait another year, given that it was technically "optional" as far as Lyndis' wanting-to-do-it went.

among the crowds she noticed nickname-boy... she didn't know his name, but she recognized the face to an extent.
she glanced at him for a moment before turning her head. Like many responsible older siblings, Lyndis stuck with her sister as long as she could, and when they split to go to their age groups, Lyndis pulled her aside for one brief moment. she pulled out an old playing card out of her pocket. the others had long since been lost to time and weather, but the queen of spades remained intact, and in Lyndis' possession. the back of the card was a navy blue, with a white-golden Capitol Insignia on it; it was a rather cool design, tyranny or not.
"It's a good luck charm," she cooed, handing it to her sister. "though don't worry--if they call your name, don't you move a muscle 'coz I'm totally gonna volunteer to save yo azz."
Lillith gave a very distinct eye rolling expression ¬.¬
"don't try to play the hero with me." she quipped.
"who taught you to have such a smart mouth," Lyndis' eye twitched, knowing the answer before the remark was even finished leaving her mouth.

Lillith simply smirked, pocketing the card. the tributes' names were called, and neither Lillith nor Lyndis got reaped. Lyndis glanced up at the stage at the kids who were not so lucky.
"poor bastards." she muttered--or at least, to her it sounded like a mutter. given her poor hearing, it was possible that she had said it rather plainly. not like she cared or anything, but she was content to know that she and her sister were safe for now.

My name was called. I actually got what I wanted this year. I take the stage and look out across the faces of the other boys in my district, telling them with my eyes not to volunteer for me. Then I look beyond, to the audience of those too young and too old to participate. Somehow, my eyes find my fathers' and I suddenly realize I could actually die in this thing.