I woke up in a cold sweat, my right hand wrapped around the dagger I hid under my pillow. With the back of my left hand I wiped the sweat off my face and glanced around my room, disoriented. After not seeing any danger, I put the knife back under my pillow. I crawled out of bed and walked to my boarded up window, pulling back the corner of a sheet I'd draped over it to peek out at the sun. It was early morning, the sun barely above the horizon, casting a red glow across the water. There would be rain today. Then I realized why I'd woken up so early - today was the Reaping. I groaned, at seventeen years old I only had one Reaping left, and I felt like the Games were a waste of time. Everyone got the point of the Games, some of our old people fought a rebellion and now the kids got punished. Whatever. I for one thought that the Capitol was holding grudges for far too long. It was the 72 Hunger Games, completely ridiculous, everyone who had taken part in the rebellion would have died years ago anyway, no one lived for longer than 50 years, at best. Especially in Four. People here could swim at least, but drowning was almost as common as starvation. Just because most of us could swim didn't mean that we could outswim rip currents and sharks, and if we couldn't fish, we couldn't eat.
I replaced the curtain on the boards and walked to my bathroom. My fishing shack consisted of two rooms, my bedroom and my bathroom. I turned on my bathtub and tore off my sweaty clothes. The water was warm, it was only ever warm on the Reaping, and I soaked in it for a while. Next year I would watch the Reaping in whatever I pleased, probably a grimy scale peeling shirt and ripped up shorts. Next year I wouldn't have to dress up for the Games or the Capitol or anyone. Next year I would be safe, from the Games at least.
I finished washing, then walked back to my room with my towel tucked around me. I began rifling through a chest at the bottom of my bed with all of my clothes in it when I heard someone wiggle my door-handle. I ran to my bed and grabbed the dagger from beneath my pillow. I realized that, even with a knife, a small girl in a towel probably wouldn't look very threatening to an intruder. Even so, I waited by the door, dagger in one hand and the other hand holding up my towel. The door-handle jiggled again and then flew open, the sunlight outside blinding me momentarily. I swung with my dagger, but a big hand grabbed my wrist and a deep voice chuckled at me.
"Well don't you look dangerous?" The voice had a noticeable grin, the person released my hand after taking the dagger from me. I looked up at the voice and grinned.
"I am dangerous." I responded. Charlie laughed again and I couldn't help but notice how nice he looked when he dressed up. Charlie was my best and only friend in Four. We had grown up together and, after my parents died, his family had taken me in until I turned thirteen. His little sister had been Reaped, a girl only a year older than me, and killed in the 68th Games and his family was devastated. After the death of Myra, I realized that the family resented having to take care of me, believing that I should have died instead, and I left. Charlie was two years older than me, safe from the Reaping now, and had taken me to his fishing hut, which we then turned into my shack. He had disagreed with his parents throwing me out, even after I told him it was my decision. He watched out for me, helping me catch fish and teaching me how to clean them and cook them. I looked up to Charlie as a respected companion and friend. Charlie looked down at me through his bright green eyes.
"You should get dressed, Cam, the Reaping starts in an hour." He ran a hand through his messy light brown hair and sat down on a broken chair I kept for him. I nodded and began shuffling through my chest again until I found my dress.
"Close your eyes." I demanded, and Charlie did as he was told. I quickly pulled on my underwear and then slid into the bright blue dress. It had been my mothers, and she had made me promise to keep it after she died. It was the only thing I still had of hers besides her blue diamond necklace. I slid my feet into the matching pair of heels that had been hers too. Quickly, I stole a glance in the cracked mirror above the chest and felt pain rip its way through my chest.
"You done yet, Cam?" Charlie asked from the corner. I didn't reply.
"Cam?" He asked again. I couldn't move. There, staring back at me in the mirror, was my mother. Of course, it wasn't really her, but the resemblance I struck to her was devastating. The only thing that was different was our hair. Hers had been bright red. It had been eleven years since her death, but it still shook me. The death of a loved one wasn't something I could just get over. A part of me had died with my parents. A tear slipped from my eye and I sucked in a sharp breath. Charlie opened his eyes at my gasp and stood as if ready to fight off an intruder. He was always ready for a fight. He had to be. Now that his dad was crippled he had to take care of his family, and he tried to protect me.
"Oh, Cam." He sighed when he saw my tears. I looked over to him and the tears fell faster. Charlie walked over to me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me into a hug.
"I look just like her." I cried. Charlie slowly swayed me back and forth, hushing me and wiping my tears from my eyes.
"She would be so proud of you." He whispered. I sobbed into his neck.
"I miss her so much." Came my muffled reply. Charlie leaned down in front of me and stared into my eyes.
"I know you do, but right now you have to be strong. You can't let people see you cry, you can't show weakness. Not on the Reaping." Charlie wiped my eyes with the back of his thumb and bent forward, kissing my forehead. I breathed in a long breath and then released it along with my pent up emotions. Then I ran a brush through my wet hair, took one last look in the mirror, and headed out the door with Charlie leading the way.
Most of Four was already in the pavilion by the time we arrived. It wasn't anything special, just an opening at the center of the fish market. Today someone had made a stage out of wooden crates and draped fishnet across the podium to give it the signature Capitol flare for our district. I was ushered into a group of seventeen year old girls. Charlie stood behind the line of fishnet rope with everyone else safe from the Reaping. He smiled at me and I smiled back. The District Four representative was Lea Sharpton. She had died her hair blue and had it pleated into the waves that matched our Districts "theme" as she always called it. She wore a silver gown that was so tight on her body that it reminded me of a bloated fish and the red lipstick she sported made her look as if she were gaping at the crowd and gasping for air. I rolled my eyes and stood awaiting her speech. She smiled at the crowd.
"Welcome to the 72nd Hunger Games! May the Odds be ever in your favor." She smiled again, a fake, plastered on smile that made me cringe. Then she wiggled her way over to a bowl. "Today we will pick one lucky girl and boy to take part in the Hunger Games. This began because your relatives took part in a rebellion that killed many people." Her tone was condescending and I pictured myself spearing her with a trident as I would spear my food. "Now ladies first." She called dramatically. I cast a glance at Charlie and he smiled encouragingly. I did not return the smile. I knew him too well. His eyes told me that he was not encouraged. Charlie was terrified for me. I turned back to look at Lea as she floundered to grasp a piece of paper with one of our names and fates written on it. She finally grasped at one and pulled it out of the bowl.
"The first tribute is," she searched the crowd as if she actually knew the girl whose name she held in her hands, "Camden Shepard! Where are you, dear?"
I couldn't move. I was frozen. 'Don't show fear, Cam. You can't let the Capitol know your weakness.' Charlie's words ran through my head. Charlie. Thinking about him slapped me into reality as I realized someone was yelling at the top of their lungs. Charlie. I turned around. Charlie had dropped to his knees and was screaming. 'Don't show weakness.' I turned back toward the stage where Lea was staring at me.
"Come on up, dear." She called. I looked back at Charlie. A few people had hands on his shoulders trying to comfort him, to make him stand up, but Charlie was stuck in a permanent state of shock. I took one step forward. Lea motioned to me and I took another step.
"Cam, no!" Charlie's words seemed to be ripping from his throat as if he wasn't aware of what he was saying, but was aware of the fact he needed to stop what was happening. It sounded like cries of grief. 'He has already decided I will die,' I thought to myself. I took another step. Finally I made it onto the stage. Charlie was still screaming, but it sounded far away now, as if from part of a dream. Lea wrapped an arm around my shoulders.
"What's your name, hon?" She asked.
"Camden Shepard."
"And how old are you, Camden?"
"I'm seventeen." I whispered. Lea nodded then went to the other bowl of names. She dug around for a moment and then pulled out another piece of paper. She walked back to her microphone.
"Jackson Lit-"
"I volunteer as tribute!" Someone called from behind the fishnet rope. Lea rolled her eyes and leaned over to me.
"Control your friend." She hissed, "Or we'll kill him." Then she stood back up and smiled.
"The Capitol appreciates your enthusiasm. The male tribute from District Four is Jackson Little." She beamed her fake smile at the crowd. A boy about my age made his way through the crowd and up to the stage. He was about five inches taller than me and was extremely fit. I swallowed, trying to push the lump in my throat down. He would be hard to kill. Lea stepped back and Jackson and I shook hands. I heard another cry from the back and looked up to see Charlie being hit from behind by the butt of a Peacekeepers gun.
"Charlie!" I screamed. Lea smiled at the crowd, grabbed my arm, and dragged me off the stage and into a market tent that the Capitol had commandeered for the market.
"Goodbyes are in twenty minutes." She said, "You better hope your friend lives to see you." I slid into a chair that had been dragged into the tent. Jackson stood awkwardly next to me. A single tear slid down my face as I thought of Charlie being hit by the Peacekeeper. That might have been the last time I ever got to see him. Jackson looked out of the tent as the crowd cleared.
"Got anyone else to volunteer for you?" He asked bitterly. I looked up at him slowly and shook my head.
"You?" I asked in a whisper. Jackson gave me a cynical grin.
"Five brothers and a sister. None of them care enough to volunteer for me." His grin dropped and he looked back out of the tent. I got up and walked over next to him, searching the crowd desperately for Charlie. I didn't see him anywhere. Jackson looked down at me with crystal green eyes and I went back to my chair. Lea came back into the tent.
"Come on, we're going to the mayors house. You can say your goodbyes there." She didn't even check to make sure we were following her when she pranced out of the tent. Jackson and I followed silently behind her.
We were led into two seperately rooms and told to wait. I sat down on one of the couches and looked around the room, heart pounding. There were trophy fish hanging from the walls and pictures of smiling men on boats, fishing poles in hand, the prizes of the mayor. I felt sick just looking at them. I decided to stare at my hands instead. Suddenly the door flung open and Charlie was thrown into my room. I ran over to him as he groaned from the floor.
"Cam?" He asked. I dropped to my knees and cradled his head in my lap.
"I'm here, Charlie." I whispered, tears flowing freely now. He smiled and looked up at me, a black bruise had formed around his left eye.
"Don't cry, Cam. Don't cry for me." He said. He sat up and I let him lean on me to stand. He finally got to his feet and then wrapped me in a tight hug, holding me as if his arms were protection enough from the Capitol and the Games.
"You have to win, Cam. You have to come back to me." He whispered as he held me. I nodded into his shirt. Then the door was pulled open again and Charlie was pulled off of me. He struggled against the Peacekeepers, and kept one hand on my arm, sliding it down until he reached my hand and then pushing something hard and cold against it. I closed my fist around it and watched as Charlie was dragged away.
"Win for me." He yelled as the Peacekeepers slammed the door. I glanced down at my hand. He had given me my mothers blue diamond necklace. I collapsed onto the couch and let myself sob until Lea came back to tell me it was time to go.
YOU ARE READING
The Hunger Games: Camden Shepard
FanfictionCamden Shepard is a seventeen year old from District Four. She is an orphan and has been forced to survive with limited help for most of her life, but now she is more than that. Now she is a tribute in the Capitol's annual death match. She is a play...