The Hunger Games: Tears and joys of the papergirl

The day before (1)

I, Darcie Alder was never really known as Darcie Alder back at home, in district 7. No, I was known as the papergirl. The nickname was given to me, not because I delivered papers but because I always wore her grandfathers paperboy hat. On my way to work, and at school, and when I sat in the trees to read. 

Alone.

Work hours were particularly hot when the days drew closer to the reaping. The sun was scorching and I could see peoples sweat on their necks. What a weird thing sweat was. Almost like their body was crying from the work. Almost like-

"Papergirl!"

I looked down to see a large, hairy man. He was not familiar but I was, which wasn't an uncommon thing at this point.

"Yes?" I shouted down from my branch.

The man gave me an eyeroll and signaled for me to come down. I did as I was told and heard the man complain as I climbed to the ground.

"I'm gonna chop this one down. And aren't you supposed to be working right now?"

"I was taking a break" I muttered but kept my smile.

"Break? Was it by any chance extended? By your orders?" he said, honestly a little mockingly.

"Maybe." I said and grabbed my axe. I was skilled with it actually, and everyone knew that, however if someone didn't know me they would have never guessed.

"That ain't gonna fly when your older." the man remarked as I moved on to another tree next to him. "You know you won't be allowed breaks then."

I swung my axe as I half-heartly said "I know." Oftentimes, I wondered how that could be legal but of course it's entirely possible with the Capitol. Anything is.

I always wanted to know if the children in the Capitol knew the cruelty of their families and neighbors towards the districts. As soon as the kids in District 7 knew how to wield an axe it was off to work. Wake up, go to school, go to work, leave, sleep, repeat. This was their life.

I wiped the sweat off my forehead as an unusually thin girl  ran towards me. It was my older sister, Ember. Her curly hair was tied up in a huge bun and her pretty face was stained with dirt. Ember was adored by people. However, she didn't adore me any less. Ember was my favorite person, and I was Ember's. 

"Darcie!" she called out and rushed to me. "They're shipping fabrics from District 8 to the Capitol, and the truck is passing from here." she whispered "And they have a flat tire so for now it's here."

I immediately knew what she meant. We both ran away and I heard the man calling out something along the lines of "You still have work to do!" but I didn't care. We sped across lumberjacks and tree stumps, as I was clutching on to my hat, not speaking, only running.

Running.

Running.

And running.

We reached the truck and 3 Capitol delivery people were standing there. The driver, a tall man with green hair was leaning against the wheel, and two other women with giant wigs were trying to call someone. We sneaked behind them and quickly dived in behind the truck. So, so many colors and textures surrounded us and we got as many as possible, trying hard not to laugh.

Minutes later me and Ember were walking towards a cottage carrying the rolls of fabric with us and Ember knocked the door. "It's open!" a voice called out. "We have a surprise!" I called out as Molly Turtle ran to give us a hug. "I love you, so, so much" she squealed as she took the fabrics. Molly was a childhood friend of mine, two years older than me, closer to my sister in age, but an outcast like me, due to her loud personality. We often hung out with her, Ember too sometimes, though she had many more friends.

Molly loved anything to do with fashion and dreamed of living a life of luxury and beautiful clothes like the people in the Capitol. And she had talent too. Every time somebody wanted clothes they would either go to her or to Bale Rosetree, though me and Ember found him much less appealing since his ego was bigger than everyone's in district 7 put together. 

"So, I have your outfits for the reaping." Molly chirped as she showed us two beautiful pieces of clothing. A sage green jumpsuit for Ember and and the most gorgeous white dress for me, with small brown fringes neatly lined up. Brown. Like my hat.

"It's a beautiful thing for such an ugly occasion." I whispered. Molly put her hand on my shoulder. "It's nice to have something pretty in situations like these, though, isn't it?" she smiled, her smile sweet as honey.

I nodded as Ember hugged Molly and thanked her. She was right, Molly. It is nice to have something pretty in these situations. A source of comfort. Oh, how strange reaping day was. Often times I was sad, felt terrible for the poor children, like when my cousin was reaped at 12. He lost of course, and even if I expected it, I locked myself in my room for days. Other times though, people who wronged me, people who beat me up, talked about me and mocked me got chosen. And I felt guilty. Guilty for smirking at how poetic the irony was. They threatened me everyday and now that they got threatened they didn't like it much did they?

Tomorrow was Embers last year to get chosen. It was unlikely, they almost never reaped 18 year olds. Molly was 17, and that age was popular enough actually and like every year I prayed wouldn't get chosen since she would almost, surely lose. Me, I was 15. Would people be sad to see the papergirl go? I didn't know. 

And I hoped to never find out.