The Fourth Quarter Quell

Reaping Day: District Ten

Sophie Swan's Perspective

"Sophie, c'mon get up! It's Reaping Day!" My mom pounded at my closed door.

I didn't answer. Instead, I remained sprawled on top of my already made bed. I had woken up very early due to anxiety induced insomnia so I was already prepared for today.

My light pink dress, like all of my other clothes, was faded. What did I expect to wear, living in District Ten? A bejeweled ball gown?

I scoffed at the thought and sat up straight. The television had turned itself on, as there was yet another Capitol update.

All the tributes up until Ten had been reaped:

From District One, Paisley Rae and Eli Johnson

From District Two, Crystal Barrett and Daniel Carpenter

From District Three, Alissa Osman and Dominic Dare

From Four, Annalise Reynolds and Mike Samuel

From Five, Isabella Tanner and Logan Pike

From Six, Makayla Alexander and Chase Woodley

From Seven, Jo Stevens and Ryan Harris

From Eight, Mandy Hemmings and DJ Fitz

And from District Nine, Penny Williams and Colton Levi

A majority of these tributes were a little younger than me, about fourteen years old. That had to be a first.

"Sophie!" My mom called from down the corridor.

"Coming!" I groaned.

I switched the television off and made my way to meet my parents at the kitchen table. The floorboards beneath my feet creaked loudly with every step I made. Eventually, I came into view of my parents.

"Good morning, Sophie. You look beautiful." My dad complimented.

"Thanks, I always try to look my best whilst getting chosen to fight to the death." I said sarcastically.

I grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and wiped it clean. I took a bite from it but deemed it unpleasant to the taste.

"Soph, you have to stop this harsh criticism of the Games." My mom warned.

"Why? You know what they do is terrible so why act like it isn't?" I retorted.

I had so many other words to say but then I remembered that the Reaping wasn't a day I should be speaking harshly of the Capitol and their sadistic Hunger Games.

"Sorry..." I mumbled.

"It's alright." My mother exhaled. "Are you going to get something to eat?"

"I'm not hungry." I muttered.

"Well, okay then. It's time to go." My father said, walking towards the door. My mother and I followed him out.

•

We arrived at the Reaping in somber silence. No one spoke a word as we trekked to the town square. I preferred it that way, as I wouldn't have to act like I didn't mind my predicament.

After giving each of my parents a hug, I was identified and corralled into the large group of sixteen year old girls. We waited there for a good hour before the mayor approached the center of the stage.

Like every year, he explained the cause of the Games, listed the short amount of District Ten victors, and since it's a Quell, he reminded us the regulations for the Games.

Shortly after, our escort Priscilla Patterson, waltzed out. Her shimmering blue high heels clacked on the stage with each step, echoing across the square.

"Welcome, everyone! Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favor!" Priscilla said brightly.

I rolled my eyes. Capitol citizens are too perky about things.

"Since this year is a Quell, I bet you all are just dying to find out who will represent District Ten!" Priscilla continues.

Was the dying part a pun? Some kind of sick, twisted pun? I continued to watch with a fire in my eyes.

"As usual, ladies first!" Priscilla chirped and strolled over to the bowl in front of the girls. She dipped a hand in, fished out a name, and sauntered back over to the microphone.

I could practically hear everyone's erratic heartbeat as Priscilla dramatically unfolded the slip of paper. Everyone's breath was being held, fingers crossed. No one wanted to have to hear their name be read out.

"Sophie Swan." Priscilla said. "What a lovely name!"

Thanks. I bet it was a great name for girl who was about to be dead.

I stumbled out into the walkway, slowly walking up the steps. I couldn't believe out of every name, mine was the one to make the cut. If Priscilla had moved her hand the smallest amount to the left...

"Hello, Sophie! How old are you?" Priscilla questioned.

"Sixteen." I stated clearly.

"Fabulous! Just wait right here and we'll continue." Priscilla said sweetly.

She strode over to the boys bowl and

fished out another name. Holding it high into the air, she walked back over to the mic. She unfolded it and I bit my lip. Please not anyone from school...

"Brody Ellis!" Priscilla read.

Naturally. I couldn't help but feel bad. This guy kind of suffered a lot with being bullied at school. He was awfully sweet and intelligent and was easy on the eyes. But I doubt he had what it took to kill fellow teens.

Brody beat my expectations. Instead of cowering up on the stage, he proudly stood on the other side of Priscilla.

"Well, isn't this guy a looker?" Priscilla joked. "How old are you, Brody?"

"Sixteen, Priscilla. And ready to win for District Ten!" He said exuberantly.

My eyes were widened the whole time. What happened to the quiet, smart kid who sat at the back of class? Who was this confident, charming guy?

"Excellent! Well, that's it for today! Let's have one round of applause for our two tributes, Sophie Swan and Brody Ellis!"

The Peacekeepers on either side of the stage marched up and guided us to the separate rooms. I sat on the arm of a leather armchair and tried to evaluate my situation.

I was good at tree climbing in the small forests outside Nine so maybe the arena would be a forest. If it was anything relying on snow or water, I was done for.

My stomach rumbled loudly and that's when I remembered the apple I took a bite of and discarded this morning. It's ironic that I wasn't hungry when I got up but I would probably kill for that disgusting apple a few days from now.

And I guess that's why they're called the Hunger Games...isn't it?