Sunshine - A Hunger Games Story

3| Stars

Three days later the weekend arrives. Making my way through the streets with Jill, a neighbor around my age that I used to go to school with. She's the only girl around my age that I get to talk to on a regular basis. It also helps that she works in the same field as me during the week.

"What's got your head in the clouds? I keep losing you." Jill's fingers snap in front of my face, trying to bring me out of my thoughts. Her results are me slowly shifting my gaze to her and giving her a glare. "There we go. Progress," she says, exaggerating the two syllables of progress. It comes out more as: 'There wego. Prog-ress.'

I roll my eyes at her.

"Seriously! What's up? What's going on?"

"Well, as you can see, the sky is upward currently. For what's going on, we are mindlessly walking through town." Jill gives me a look. "I'm just thinking about ... the Games."

Her face instantly softens. "Oh, baby. You don't have to worry about that. You won't get picked, there's too many other people for you to need to think about that." Her arm reaches across my back and she rubs my shoulder.

"I'm not worried about getting picked. I'm thinking about who deserves to live."

"Everyone deserves to live, hun. What do you mean?"

"I know, that came out wrong. It's stupid. I meant, who would you volunteer for? Like if it came down to it, who would you give your life for?" After a second of silence I begin to rethink my words. "Sorry, that was dark. Let's talk about something else."

"For my girlfriend, Maybell. Maybe? I don't know. My sister and I aren't close and I don't have anyone else I'd go into the games for."

"I'm sorry. It was a stupid question. You didn't really need to answer it, not like it's going to happen in real life."

I lower my head and look down at my shoes as we keep walking. It wasn't until a loud commotion up ahead that I finally looked up.

"Don't listen to them! Don't listen! They're rotten. Rotten liars and fakes!" A man yells. Jill and I run up to the small crowd that is starting to surround the source.

Once we got close enough I could see the man causing all of the ruckus. Humphrey Stewart.

With him is his daughter Shelly who is carrying a small bag of bread. She calmly grabs her father's hand and tugs in the direction they were previously traveling. "Come on dad. Let's go home to mom." Humphrey keeps his ground as he stares at a Peacekeeper. The Peacekeeper starts to stride towards the victor. "Dad, will go home to mom and she'll make it all better, okay?"

The victor grunts something that resembles an okay and the two make their way swiftly away. After they're gone Jill leans over to me and whispers in my ear. "For the Capital's shining stars, they are a bit cuckoo."

Shelly Stewart's a nice girl. Only twelve years old. She has a kind heart, is calm in tense situations, has the ability to do good, and is smart. She's not spoiled, she just has different problems than we do. But, she's a stranger to me. Who is Shelly Stewart?

A few days later, I overheard my mother talking with my dad. We don't have enough money for food. Aunt Tess got injured at work and can't send us anything until she gets better.

A week without a meal to feed us leaves my family weak for our field work. The next day my dad gets caught trying to steal food.

My mom won't let us watch, but everyone in the town can still hear his screams. Twenty four times for the twenty four tributes. I know what they do, they shock you for your first offense, the second is a flogging, the fifth is an execution. My brothers cry as the shouts echo off the walls. My mom reassures them that it will be okay; but it won't. Tomorrow was the reaping for Hunger Games.

In the morning we get ready. My mom and I haul several buckets of water in from the pump down the street and fill up the cracked tub. It's been a long time since we had flowing water in our old crumbling apartment.

The three of us that are of age to be reaped take turns scrubbing the dirt off of our bodies and faces making ourselves look presentable. I comb my hair back into a ponytail and put on one of my mother's old, stained dresses. The dress is ripped on the sleeve and it hangs loosely on my frame exposing the collar of my white undershirt. I have no other choice but to wear my work boots underneath.

My brothers, Dominic and Isaak, put on either an oversized button-up or a minimally stained t-shirt over a set of work overalls and work boots. They sit in a chair and allow mom to clip their hair to look nicer and less wild. No one talks all morning.

After we are ready, we wait at the kitchen table until a Peacekeeper comes to bang on our door. Every year they go door to door and round up all of the people to get moving to the reaping. Because District 9 is so huge with all of the fields for, not only providing all of the grains for the Capital, but also for growing all of the tessera grain and growing acres upon acres of corn and other crops for the livestock in district 10. We also grow cotton for district 8 and 40% of Panem's sugar. Because of the district's size, trains are scheduled to transport all the families to one town square, big enough to fit everyone. Other districts do this too, or so I've heard. District 7 with the next largest area, District 4 because it's spread out along the west coast, and a few others.

The trains they use are the ones used to transport cornmeal and hay to district 10. Big long trains that smell like poop and are stuffed full of people from all over the district.

My family and I huddle in the corner of the train section we are in. As the train car sways, people lead up against each other, feeding off of others' balance. In a short 20 minutes, our train's quick speed gets us to the reaping town and we are ushered out into lines.

"Dominic, look after Isaak. Be good. I'll see you in a short while." I instruct, knowing dad would say something like that if he were here.

"Boys, don't worry, you'll be fine. Ayesha, I love you. I love you all so so much. Good luck. Okay, you better get going." My mom rushes.

We all split off into different lines, mom and Theo to the parents section, me to the girls line, and the boys to the boys' line. At the front of the line Peacekeepers poke the children's fingers, drawing blood to mark their attendance. When it's my turn, I hold my finger out, holding my breath as they scan my blood. You never know what could set one of them off.

All of the children get separated by age twelve to eighteen. I can see Jill as I glance around me. Tyson is down my row with shaking hands. His head is lowered as he rocks back and forth on his heels muttering something over and over to himself. I can see my second youngest brother Isaak shaking from nerves as he experiences his first Hunger Games as a possible tribune. The older kids also show their nerves, not for the new possibility of death, but from the knowledge that they have the greatest number of paper slips in the bowls.

The quiet crowd silences as the Mayor makes her way to the microphone up front. She taps on it a few times before beginning her dull speech in a monotone voice. It's all about how the Hunger Games came to be and how the Games are set to play out.

Then, after our waiting, the Capital's shining stars grace us with their presence. Humphrey Stewart and Elouise Smith. Elouise waves and smiles briefly before sitting down in a chair with a blank face. Humphrey grumbles and waves as he plops into the chair next to her.

"Now, for the tributes for the 68th annual Hunger Games, let's start with the girls." Our Capital escort announces.