As Sly as a Fox

As bold as brass

The crowd was silent. No one looked in a certain direction, there was no cry from a parent. There was silence.

The speaker cleared her throat and repeated the name again.

Still, no response.

A wrenching sound broke the silence. I looked over the crowd, but couldn't see a thing.

After a few minutes, two peacekeepers approached the crowd, and came carrying a woman. They released their grip as they mounted the stage. She staggered a little, then grasped onto the platform.

She was drunk out of her mind. Stands of her hair were stuck together with vomit, and much more covered her skimpy tank top. The screen showed her face, which look twice as old as her body. She was probably at her last reaping. her skin was an oily brown, and was already wrinkling and beginning to yellow.
She mounted the platform, looking as though she was trying to remember where she was and what was happening. She glanced towards the speaker, looking for assistance that she wouldn't get. Then she spoke.
I couldn't make out what she was saying. The speaker slowly walked towards the broken women. The comparison of the two was shocking. The woman with her shining pearls make her look like nothing more than a beggar. The speaker grasped Rosalie, and hoisted her up to her feet. Guiding her with a dainty hand to the center of the stage took almost a minute. The speaker took the microphone. "Our district five female contestant!"
No one clapped. No one cared.
Rosalie motioned towards the microphone. "My baby. Where is she?"
No.... It couldn't be.
The speaker tried to take the microphone away, but she continues to grasp it.
"My daughter... Ava? Where is she?"
She staggered a little bit, and looked around, as if just seeing her surroundings.
A women, obviously much more sober then the chosen contestant shuffled through the crowd, carrying Ava in her arms.
It was Boo.