Do and Die

“Theirs not to make reply,

Theirs not to reason why,

Theirs but to do and die:

Into the valley of Death”

-Alfred, Lord Tennyson

The Charge of the Light Brigade

;;&;;

I don’t think anyone smiled that day. Reaping day. Maybe it was the paralyzing fear that they could lose a loved one, or the near crippling thought that they -–children twelve through eighteen-–could be chosen themselves. I could understand that because that’s exactly how my mind works.

The only two kids in my family of six that were qualified were my fourteen year old brother, Xannex, and I. The twins, Althea and Skylar, were the youngest at eight years old. I was grateful they weren’t qualified because I nearly have a heart attack when I see Xannex in the fourth row of the Town Square. I could only imagine how twitchy I’d be if Althea and Skylar were in the back row.

For those of you that don’t really understand what the Reaping is, it’s a lottery where they chose one boy and one girl from each of the twelve districts of Panem. After they are chosen, they go into an arena on public television to fight to the death until one is standing. The Victor.

District 12 has had only two victors in the last seventy-three years of the games. The first being Annalise Bode in the 46th annual Hunger Games, the second was Haymitch Abernathy in the 50th annual Hunger Games. That must say a lot about the chances of the tributes from good ol’ District 12. I mean, only two Victors in seventy-three years?

In my district, the word “tribute” was a synonym for “dead body” --a corpse.

With that in mind, the rundown streets of the district were quiet. When people spoke, they spoke in hushed whispers. Well, except for Ma.

“Thalia!” She called from outside. I looked up from helping Xannex button his shirt correctly. Uhg, she just called me a minute ago. What could she need now? I sighed and walked to the back door, where I heard her calling. “Yes, Ma?”

My mother’s back was too me. She was looking toward the pen of seven--wait, no-- six pigs. Ma turned to face me. I could honestly say I looked nothing like my mom, Sheena Danes. I looked more like Daddy, obtaining his curly red hair and honey brown eyes. Xannex and Althea looked more modeled after our mother: their black hair and skinny figure. Skylar was more of a mix, having Ma’s green eyes, Daddy’s red hair and his spunky attitude.

Ma pointed to my left, “One of them got loose. Catch ‘em and he’ll be our dinner. The rest will be sold,” She told me before walking inside to order the girls to bathe. I muttered in acknowledgement.

To my left, hung Daddy’s hunting knives. He wouldn’t mind if I used them for dinner.

I walked out into our spacious yard. I scanned it. Since out house was placed close to the border of District 12, we got whatever land from the front of our house to the wire fence that marked the border. I could hear the pig snorting.

“Right! Right!” Xannex shouted from the back door. I whipped around and shushed him. I didn’t need him scaring it. Luckily, it was the lazy one that got out. It was lying on the ground.

I crept forward and pulled out the knife from the pouch. The knife cut through the air, then the pig’s skin. It squealed. Three more knives plunged into its skin soon after. Seven missed. The swine fell dead.

I hung it up on the hook on the side of the house and hurried inside to wash up.

There was a knock at the door about a couple of hours later. I was attempting to tie a green ribbon into my hair when I heard Althea call, “Thalia! Zenobia wants to talk to ya!”