The Hunger Games - Writing Contest (ENDED)

District 10 - Saul

DISTRICT 10

BASIC INFORMATION

Name: Saul Grey

Gender: Male

Age: 15

PERSONALITY

Weapon of Choice: knife

Other Info: riding horses, taking care of animals, a little cooking

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Eye Color: Brown

Hair: Brown

Height: 5'5 , average/lean, a little tanned

ALLIANCES

-

STATUS: Alive

ITEMS: one knife

SPONSORSHIP: 1

REAPING DETAILS

I woke up before the sun did on reaping day. While everything looked normal, the dew drops on the grass, that little hint of warmth that would get stronger once the sun was up, the day felt like anything but. I still had to put on my work boots and my coat, try not to wake my older brothers, and join the rest of the kids toward the chicken coops, which were acres big. Egg collecting wasn't so bad. It required some interaction with the chickens, some of which refused to give up the gold and pecked at our hands. Some of the girls wore gloves, and the guys too---although, they looked lesser for it. We usually laughed when a kid yanked their hand out. No one could even fake it today.

By the time the sun was up, the boys had to clean out all the stalls while the girls washed the cows and the horses. I'd gotten used to the smell, like everyone else, to the point where the air felt empty without it.

After cleaning the stalls, we had time to feed the animals---which I always liked. I fed the horses along with a few other kids. I always claimed a black one near the end, one of the oldest. I guess I had a special connection with Clyde. I'd broken him. And then he'd broken me by tossing me off. My memory was shoddy after that, but I'd forgiven him. Now, as I fed him and brushed his damp mane, I wondered if he would miss me, if my name came out of that bowl.

Like many others, I had to run home and change. There was no time to bathe, even though my brothers already had, not bothering to leave some water for me. They worked long into the night. Datson was the oldest, turning 20 earlier this year, though the stress made him look older. He also led the horse-breaking and oversaw some of the herds. He was out of the running, never having been picked. Paul was 17, and stronger than me---both were. He was mostly minding me since Datson was busy.

Our mother had died of illness years ago. Our father was one of seventeen who died in a stampede during a stock drive. Datson had to take care of everything.

None of us could eat, but we forced ourselves to anyway. Paul had cooked without me, and I could see he'd been crying. Were we going to cook with each other again? Would he learn how to get the dressing just right if I wasn't there to correct him?

"Time to go," Datson said, gruff as usual. We didn't bother washing the plates. "We'll do that later," he said, leading the way out. Datson believed the three of us would be spared again. Our family had always been lucky. A feeling in my stomach told me different.

Datson suddenly hugged me and Paul before we were separated. "You come back to me, brothers, okay?"

Paul went teary-eyed again. I just got upset, because this affection wasn't always around. Only when Ma died, and then Pa, and that's it. Datson was always a boss before a brother. I hugged him back anyway, both Paul and I nodding. I managed to tell Paul my final thoughts before we were separated by our ages, one of the many things that would keep us apart.

I wasn't standing with any of my friends in our little corral, as most of us called it. Now, standing in it, it wasn't that funny.

The Justice Building loomed more today than usual. The cameras, the screens, we were all caught in it. I wondered if the guys who took bets would appear too. They were the ones who barely worked, trying to make fast cash. I hated cheaters like that, and everyone did too... but I could still see some of them whispering to each other.

Watching them, I hadn't seen when a girl was picked. I just noticed her yellow hair, her back as she walked up to the podium, being greeted. The person doing the picking---with all those ridiculous colors, I couldn't tell if it was male or female---asked for volunteers. I didn't know the girl, and I didn't know if she had siblings.

I felt my heart jump down to hide in my stomach as the colorful person went to the glass bowl and reached in. I searched and met Datson's eyes. His jaw was clenched and his crossed arms held his balled-up fists. If he could go up there and beat the manure out of them all, he would. He'd yelled about it many---

"Saul Grey!"

Hearing its voice, it sounded like a woman. This observation was made before I realized everyone was staring at me, and I could hear the whispers. Wait....

I found Paul's eyes, like he'd called to me, and he'd stepped forward---but I shook my head and made my most violent face. He couldn't go in there. I had a nickname and was known for it, but Paul was worse; because he was older, though, he somehow got away with it. You could only be so soft in District 10. Any more and you're deemed useless, doing the jobs often left to the women. Disrespectful, but still... we had our levels of respect, still ever separated by something.

The whispers, and maybe even some bets, followed me up to the makeshift stage. The colorful woman beamed at me, at everyone, at everything, before placing me next to the girl, who was shorter than I expected.

Everything seemed to fall silent. I could still see lips move, people point and talk, watching me, seeing the label branded on me. I might've had a horrible memory, but the nickname was unforgettable, and it was given to me.

The Boy Who Can't Kill.

If you wish to make an alliance with or sponsor this tribute, private message me.