Dependence - Book Two (Wattys 2013 Finalist)

Reapings: District Eight

Stitch Gable’s POV:

‘’ What if I get picked?’’ I question Max, the only friend I have that I honestly believe will never leave my side.

‘’ I don’t know.’’ He replies sounding quite worried. ‘’ I guess I will have to go with you.’’

‘’ They’d never allow it. It’s one boy, one girl. Not two boys.’’ I explain.

‘’ I guess, but they can’t stop me. I go where you go.’’ He smirks and we both laugh.

‘’ Blood brothers for life.’’ I say with a smile.

‘’ Blood brothers for life.’’ He repeats and as he does, my mind falls into a reverie.

I think back to the day we became blood brothers. I had been coming home from school, it was lashing rain and Max was at my side – running beside me with our books over our heads to shield us from the rain. I slipped on a corner because of the rain and I ripped open my knee. The blood was pumping and I had been crying.

Max suggested we become blood brothers. At the time, I hadn’t a clue what it was. He simply picked up a jagged rock from the ground and dragged it across the flesh of his arm. When the blood began to dribble out, he pressed his bloody wound against mine and our blood mixed. He told me he heard once that once you become blood brothers, you are bound together for life.

‘’ Stitch honey. Start getting dressed for the Reaping.’’ Calls my mother softly down the hallway from the kitchen.

‘’ OK.’’ I reply. ‘’ Give me twenty minutes.’’

I quickly dress myself, Max stands beside me as I do – already dressed up in fancy clothes, similar to mine only seemingly more expensive. A white shirt without the stains or marks that mine does, black trousers that are actually his size and a pair of shoes with the soles in them. I stand in front of the mirror and use my hand to guide my fringe across my face into a comb-over. I notice Max has the same.

‘’ Stitch! Breakfast is ready.’’ My mother calls and I head towards the kitchen, Max beside me as always.

When I enter the kitchen, my parents are sitting at our small, rickety kitchen table with pieces of bread and some jam in front of them. As we barely ever eat meals together due my parents’ jobs, it is weird to see them sitting here. My mother smiles warmly as I enter, my father gives me a small glance and returns to spreading jam onto his bread.

There is a plate set out for me, with a piece of bread and the jam is sitting in the centre of the table. There is not any plate for Max. I glance at him and he smiles and shrugs his shoulders.

‘’ I don’t mind. I’m not hungry.’’ He explains.

‘’ You’re never hungry.’’ I smile back, and try to think of the last time I’ve seen him eat – a small piece of chocolate he stole with me from a local shop.

‘’ What?’’ Asks my mother.

‘’ Nothing.’’ I reply, shrugging her off.

‘’ Oh, I thought you said something.’’ She explains.

‘’ No-‘’ I begin, but my father cuts me off immediately.

‘’ He was. He did say something. What was it boy?’’ He demands.

‘’ Nothing, I said nothing.’’ I reply, my voice shaking slightly as I lie to him.

‘’ Lies! You were talking to that friend of yours weren’t you?’’ He questions angrily.