The Fourth Annual Writer Games: Canon

The Tributes | The Justice Building

District One – Faust Chapman

This is going to kill my mother.

The thought was the first coherent idea that my brain was able to form as I shook the hand of the girl who stood beside me. My body was still frozen, and my brain felt like the third computer at the academy, which is supposed to run training simulations, but inevitably fails to load. Her hand was stiff and rigid in my palm. I would have assumed that she was also surprised, but she was startlingly hard to read

I didn't catch the words of the female escort who stood at the podium, but I was quickly ushered off the stage. My feet got caught on the slim stairs that led down to the waiting car, and I fell forward. My elbows hit the pavement first as I went sprawling before pushing myself to my feet quickly. The peacekeepers barely stopped, not faltering in their steady march towards the black car, my very own riverboat to the underworld.

I had no choice but to comply, not that it would have mattered; I was still too stunned to make their lives difficult. In the car, I was left to my thoughts as I struggled to make sense of what happened. Lyon was supposed to volunteer. I knew this because it was common knowledge. District One is one of the few places where we compete to see which of our children will have the privilege of dying. As a result, everyone knows who our tributes will be weeks in advance. The Reaping is more about ceremony than anything else. District One has made an industry out of entertaining The Capitol; the Reaping Ceremony is simply another way to fulfill that role.

I was so sure that Lyon would volunteer that I was annoyed when my name was first called. I knew that they would make me walk up there and smile at the cameras. I also knew that I'd managed to stain the bottoms of my pants by falling in mud, and I wasn't anxious to be captured on film.

As I'd reached the top of the stage, my eyes quickly found Lyon's as I waited for him to announce himself. But, he didn't. I'm not sure why, but he just stood there, staring at me with unblinking eyes. I watched him open his mouth a few times, though no noise slipped from it. The boy that the academy chose to volunteer refused to do so, and now I am forced to pay the price by representing my district.

I know that District One won't be thrilled about it. I'm a pretty crappy representative, and I know it. I'm short and unattractive. I didn't ever try all that hard in training, and I can't tell a poisonous mushroom from a safe one. I'm the younger brother of Quartz Chapman, who died in the games ten years ago, meaning that failure is in my blood. No one thinks I'll last more than five minutes, and that includes myself.

The car jolted to a stop outside of the Justice building. Peacekeepers were waiting for me, and I followed them up the stairs and into the opulent government building. The ceiling stretched far above me, and the floors were made of solid marble. I had to resist the urge to run my hands over the carvings that line the stone walls.

There was a little room that lay to my right, and I was deposited inside as the stream of peacekeepers stopped at the door. I saw Dioria enter the room across the hallway, her platinum hair glimmering in the soft light cast by the crystal chandeliers that dangled above us. My view of her was quickly obscured by the closing door, boxing me into the dark, little room.

I sunk into the large, purple armchair that was positioned to face the coffee table and sat adjacent to the sofa. I was struck by how similar it looked to my own living room. Sure, the Justice building was fancier and the furniture was more expensive than anything my parents would buy. But, the color scheme was the same. Violet furniture contrasted with grey walls. The mantle was lined with wooden knickknacks above a blazing fire.

The door burst open, and two people came flying in. I hopped up to greet them, but they were hugging me before I could speak, their arms wrapped around my chest so tightly that I couldn't breathe. "Take it easy," I choked out, gently pushing them away "I haven't died yet, have I?"