Deceived: The 500th Annual Hunger Games

Chapter 39 - District 11 Reapings

SKENE CHAFFEE'S P.O.V

I climbed onto the broken roof of my house, hammer and nails attached to my discoloured belt.

"Skene," Mum yelled, "don't hurt yourself."

I slipped on the safety goggles and got out my hammer, holding it tightly in my hand.

Our roof had broken last night after a freak storm had hit the east side of District 11. Part of our roof had collapsed at about 3am this morning.

Since the storm, people from the Capitol have been sent in to make sure that the escort will be okay during the Reapings.

I lined up a nail with a new tile. This morning, the Capitol supplied people with new roofs and bricks if their houses had been damaged. It seemed way too nice of the Capitol. Normally they leave you to die on the streets.

Smack! The nail drove through the tiles, staying in place. I continued to hammer the nails in place, one by one.

I grabbed a new tile and lined it up. The nail was set in place. I lifted the hammer.

As I brought it back over my head, I realised the hammerhead had gone.

"Looking for something?"

There was Persei, my best friend. She had caught the hammerhead in her hands.

"There's no point in fixing it back on," she said.

"I guess. Let's just get a sheet of fabric and tie it to the house." I replied from the top of the roof. I entered the house through the hole in the roof, gripping the edge of the hole and swinging, gathering momentum.

I jumped and landed carefully, trying not to damage the house anymore than the storm already has.

I ran downstairs and rummaged through all of the cupboards until I came across a few old waterproof coats.

"Persei," I yelled, "come in and help me please!"

Persei ran through to the kitchen, her long black hair swaying as she did so.

We picked up about 3 coats each and made out way back to the hole in the roof.

"Here, I'll give you a leg up," I said. She stood on my thigh and jumped. She gripped onto the edge and hauled herself on to the roof.

When she was out of sight, I jumped and grabbed onto the edge. I pulled myself up onto the broken roof.

We covered the hole with the coats and started to put nails into position.

"Damn! We forgot the hammer!" I said.

"Don't worry, we can use the end of the hammerhead unattached to the handle.

We smashed nails into the roof, keeping the coats in place.

After we had done a satisfactory job, we helped each other down from the roof.

"Hey mum," I yelled through the house. "I'll carry on fixing the house after the reaping. See you later!"

We waked to the town square without getting changed.

OTILLIE SOFEE'S P.O.V

I straightened my waistcoat up from where it was sliding off of my skinny shoulders.

I didn't know what to do or where to go. Last time I had my right index finger.

I lined up behind a random girl, who happened to be gossiping to the girl in front of her.

"I heard this games will be ocean or desert based," she giggled.

I held onto this info, for if I'm reaped then maybe I'll stand a chance.

"Finger," the lady said to the girl in front. She squealed, from excitement more than pain, as the meddle pricked her right index finger.

She moved on and I watched her walk into the 18-year-old section.

"Finger," the lady said.

I held out my hand to show her that the finger required wasn't there.

"You're being escorted," she said. She clicked her fingers and a Peacekeeper came over.

Without hesitation, he grabbed my shoulders and dragged me off. "What age?" He said, his voice gruff.

"14-year-olds," I replied back, showing less interest than he did. He practically threw me into the pen.

The other kids glared at him for chucking me away. It's like he knows I'm in these games.

Cottyn, our district's mentor, walked slowly onto the stage, being careful as to not twist her ankles in her 7 inch platform shoes.

After watching the same video we watch every year, she cut straight to the action. They seriously need to update the video.

"Our first tribute is," she rummaged in the fishbowl, her light pink wig tilting to the side slightly.

"Skene Chaffee!"

A boy from the 16-year-old pen walked up to the stage, clenching his fists. He looked at a girl in the 15-year-old pen - his girlfriend or sister maybe - and frowned.

"Next up is Persei Chamomile!"

The same girl he had just frowned at joined Skene onstage. They both sat down and frowned.

No one in District 11 likes the games.

"Indigo Townsley!"

The girl who was in front of me in the line bounded up to the stage. She grabbed the microphone and yelled "I'm the best!"

No one in Distirct 11 likes the games other than Indigo.

"Next up is Ogilby Hayes!"

A boy on crutches made his way out of the 14-year-old pen. Yet another cripple is entering the games. That can't be fair, surely. We already had Lawson last time - and Wade before that.

"Violetta Santolina!"

My picking partner. No, not her. Please.

She's the only friend I have at work. We scale the highest trees together and pick the ripest fruit.

She stepped out of the 17-year-old pen and tried to look strong. I gave her a reassuring glance, trying to tell her everything would be okay.

"Otillie Sofee!"

I knew it.

I walked out of my pen as if my name hasn't been called. I sat next to Violetta, who was violently shaking. I patted her shoulder and turned to face the other people.

Two more of them will face the same fate as us.

"Orchid Jarvis!"

A 12-year-old? Everyone started complaining. District 11 absolutely hate the youngest ones entering the games.

He grabbed the microphone stand and stood on his toes. He barely reached the microphone. "I turned 12 today." It was barely audible.

The worst birthday present a kid could wish for. Unless they're a Career.

"Lastly is Wyatt Sloane!"

The boy who sits in front of me in school. Wyatt left the other 13-year-olds and trudged up to the stage.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Our tributes are Skene, Persei, Indigo, Ogilby, Violetta, Otillie, Orchid and Wyatt! Give them a round of applause."

The citizen were silent as the ruthless Peacekeepers dragged us all away.