I finish making our measly breakfast before Margo comes back from her walk. I try to evenly separate the 3 small eggs from our chicken and slice a small loaf of bread onto five plates, leaving one portion a little bit larger than the rest for Troy. He's still growing and needs more food than the rest of us. I call my parents into the kitchen and Mother rouses Troy on her way in.
"Where's Margo?" Father asks as he walks in, trying to hide the worry in his voice.
"She just went on a little walk Father, she should be back soon," I reply.
I set the plates out on the small table and the four of us sit down.
"Thank you for making breakfast, darling, you really didn't have to," Mother says.
"You know I enjoy it, Mother, it isn't a chore for me," I tell her, "But in any case, Margo should be back soon if you want all of us to eat together?"
"Yes, please," Mother responds. I know that she's about to say 'this might be the last time we get to' but she doesn't.
We wait for a few minutes, listening to Troy talk about how he's excited about a presentation he gets to do later this week in school, until Margo gets home. She walks in, with her head down and throws her jacket onto the back of the couch. She looks up after smelling the food.
"Oh, hey guys," she says, noticing us sitting down, "Sorry to keep you waiting."
"We just sat down, no problem," I say.
She joins us and we eat our breakfast. It was mostly silent except for the speech that Troy was rattling off from memory through bites of food. After we finish eating, I begin to grab the plates to clean everything up, when Mother interjects.
"Alexia, sweetheart, your Father and I can take care of the dishes, you and Margo should start getting ready," she tells us.
"Alright Mother, we will," Margo says, standing up.
Margo and I walk silently to our room, then take turns bathing and getting dressed. We each wear our usual reaping clothes, which still fit us since we haven't grown in years. I wear a brown dress, and Margo wears a blue blouse with what used to be a white skirt. I grab what hopefully won't have to be my token, a bracelet made by my best friend Aster a few years ago, then we help each other do our hair. Margo has me put her short, dark brown hair into a half up-half down updo, and she helps me tie my strawberry blonde hair back into a high bun.
Margo, with her dark hair and eyes and olive skin, looks more like Mother and Troy, while my Father and I stand out a bit from the rest of the family with our paler skin and red-blonde hair. Even though our coloring is different, as we look in the mirror, I see why people think that we're twins. We look incredibly similar.
As we begin to put our shoes on, Mother comes in to check on us. I can see she's holding back tears.
"You look so beautiful girls," she says.
"Thank you, Mother," I say, getting up to hug her.
She goes to hug Margo after me, then looks up.
"Where's your token, Margo?" she asks.
"I won't be needing one, Mother," Margo responds, being rather arrogant.
"Alright then," Mother says quietly, "In any case we should get going," she adds.
We head into the main room to get Father and Troy and head out the square. About halfway there, I see a familiar face in the crowd.
"Aster!" I call out, "C'mon, Margo, follow me."
We walk over to him and his little brother Luke. Luke just turned twelve a few weeks ago, so they're both eligible.
"Alexia! Hey, how are you guys?" Aster asks.
"We're alright, all things considered," I answer.
"Same here," he responds, grabbing Luke's hand and pulling him a little bit closer.
We walk to the entry area together, where we get our fingers pricked and our blood tested to mark that we showed up and are corralled into essentially a large pen together. Normally, those eligible for the reaping are separated based on gender and age, but since this year you are reaped with your sibling you are told to just stay with your sibling and filed in.
After a few minutes, once everyone is settled, I see a few people walk onto the stage. First is Kolton Clarke, the third and only living victor from District Twelve. He ended the 105-year long drought of victors in the 155th games when he was 18. Second is the Mayor of District Twelve, a fat, useless nobody put in place by the President herself. He doesn't do anything but turn a blind eye to the fact that the peacekeepers essentially run the District. Third is small group of those peacekeepers, followed by the clacking of heels and a woman with an obnoxious bright red outfit on. The new District Twelve escort.
"Welcome everyone to the reaping for the 175th Annual Hunger Games! My name is Vita Autry, and this is my first year as escort as you all know, so I am simply ecstatic to be here. I'm sure you all are as well seeing as this is the Seventh Quarter Quell!" Her bright Capitol accent and positive attitude are met with the glares of hundreds of people, simply wishing for this day to end.
She continues after realizing that none of us want to be here, quarter quell or otherwise.
"Well in any case, before I choose the two lucky siblings that will have the privilege of competing in this year's games, there is a quick video to be shown!"
I see Margo roll her eyes out of the corner of mine. As the video starts, she mutters the first line under her breath.
"War. Terrible war."
They've shown the same exact video every year since the start of the games. We've heard it so many times that we have most of the speech memorized. President Camilla Snow's smoky alto voice rings out across the square, droning on about a war that happened nearly two-hundred years ago that somehow gives the Capitol the right to slaughter twenty-three children every year.
As the video ends, Vita begins clapping and smiling, and when we don't return the same enthusiasm, she looks rather perplexed. She begins speaking again but I don't pay attention to anything until I hear her say one simple phrase.
"And may the odds be ever in your favor,"
She walks away from the mic and towards the large glass bowl on the opposite side of the stage. She dramatically waves one manicured hand over the bowl, before abruptly reaching her red claws into the very bottom of it. She slowly returns to the mic at the center of the stage and opens the small the card.
"Well don't you two have lovely names!" she shouts giddily, "This year's tributes from District 12 are Margo and Alexia Hawthorne!"
No.
YOU ARE READING
The 175th Hunger Games
Fanfic"On the 175th anniversary, for the rebels to remember that the war was fought against their own brothers, the two tributes selected from each district will be siblings, both between the ages of 12 and 18 as per usual." One hundred and one years aft...
