Life After: POV of a District 9 Tribute

Chapter 1

Reaping Day

          I awake to the unpleasant sound of a crying baby, Elizabeth. My newest little sister that was brought into this cruel world only four months ago. Mom said she and dad would stop after my last sister, Rebecca, who is thirteen now. This would be her second reaping. Last year was horrible. Our cousin Alexis, who was fifteen, got reaped and was killed eighth in the bloodbath. Everyone knows we were made for harvesting grain. Not fighting to the death. Everyone in my year at school tried to comfort me. But to be honest, it didn't really bother me. I've gotten used to the fact that people die because of the Capitol. There is nothing we can do about it. Some people even think its an honor to get reaped and die on national television.

Sick.

          I move the handmade quilt off of me that my great-grandmother made before they started the games. The air is warm, full of life. Kind of ironic that two children from our district are going to die soon. I walk into the kitchen, still in my night clothes, and see Elizabeth. Beautiful. Mom and dad sure did a good job on her. Unlike me and Rebecca. Mom assures us that we are beautiful, and the only reasons boys don't talk to us is because they're too shy. I sit down at the table and pick at my eggs and toast. The rations have become smaller. I make a silent vow to myself that I will put my name extra times next year. I look over at Rebecca. She looks the way I feel. Awful, tried, wanting this day to be over as much as I do. Dad and mom are whispering something to each other, and I catch her eye right when she thought I didn't see them talking.

           I get up from the table and go back to my bathroom. I take a quick lukewarm shower. I get out and find my way to my bedroom. It's very bland. Cream colored walls, brown sheets underneath a ragged quilt on a mattress in the corner. But my favorite part of my room is my "make-up vanity" (even though I don't own any make-up, mom is the only one that gets those luxuries). It's an off white color. My mom gave it to me just a few months ago for my sixteenth birthday. I turn to my mattress and see a beige dress with black birds on it. Its cinched at the waist. It's one of my moms favorite dresses. She wears them to weddings. Next to it is an old family heirloom, a hummingbird necklace. I've always dreamt of touching it. I take it in my hands. It's cold. It feels good. 

"I thought you'd like those" my mom says softly behind me.

"I love them, but why?"

"I figured you were old enough for them and would appreciate it. I never get to give you anything, and you know, just in case..." She replies with a hint of worry in her voice.

"Mom it's fine. I won't get picked. I only have two years left. The odds ARE in my favor, trust me," I embrace her.

          I feel like I'm about to shatter into a thousand pieces. But I know I can't. I have too many people looking up to me for me to be strong. I have to be strong. I have to be. I slip on the dress and turn to the mirror. It shows off the slight curves my body has. I let down my blonde hair and it flows over my shoulders like giant waves at the shore. I put on the hummingbird necklace and stare into my fierce green eyes. I know that if I get picked today, I can do this. I can be strong. For them.  I slip on my shoes and sit down and the vanity. Rebecca walks in and mumbles something I can't quite understand.

"What?" I say.

"You're so pretty," she says, beaming. 

"So are you baby girl, those boys are drooling over you, I've seen it," I say with a twitch of my mouth. "Here fix my hair."

           She comes to stand behind me. Her brittle fingers combing through my hair. Within twenty minutes I have a beautiful French braid across my head to the other side, and a backache. 

"You go get ready, Beck"

"Okay, I love you Kennedy. I don't know what I would do without you." She says, tears threatening to spill over. 

"Oh honey I love you too. We're going to be okay. You'll see. Well come back tonight and make cookies together like every Friday. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Now go get ready! We only have twenty minutes!"