The Mockingjay Died: The Fourth Quarter Quell

Reapings: District 4

(Derek Tassiello's POV)

Alyssa always sings as she gets ready. I can hear her from my room, across the hall. You can hear her downstairs, if you listen. Mrs. Peters hates it, but it doesn't bother anyone else.

I plop down on my little sister's bed as she braids her hair. Two other girls are waiting for a turn at the mirror. I'm so glad boys don't have to go through that every morning.

I sigh. "What if we get reaped?" I hadn't meant for Alyssa to hear that, but she did. She turns and smiles, then walks over to me.

She hugs me. "Derek, we'll be fine. We're only in there a few times, and most kids take out a lot more tesserae than you. We won't get chosen." I feel bad. I'm the oldest. I'm supposed to be comforting Alyssa, not the other way around.

I put on a smile, to hide how worried I am. "Of course we will. And even if we do get reaped, I promise, I'll protect you."

Everyone says I'm very strong for fourteen. If I had time, they would have loved to send me to a trainer, so I could volunteer for the 103rd Games in a few years. But I don't have time, what with school, work, chores, and beating up anyone who messes with my sisters.

Our parents died a four years ago, leaving me, Alyssa, and Aubrey, who was only two then, on our own. We got sent to the District 4 Home for Unwanted and Orphaned Adolescents. Most people just call it the Home. Even with tesserae, we barely eat enough to live. We get two sets of clothes a year, and all of them are hand-me-downs. Mr. and Mrs. Peters are... Abusive. We go to school every day, and once we hit thirteen we are allowed to get jobs after school, provided we finish our chores. I work at the docks, with a couple other boys from the Home, loading fish onto trucks all afternoon. The Home requires I pay fifty percent of what I make for "expenses," but we get to keep the rest of it.

Alyssa helps Aubrey button up the back of her dress as I straiten my tie in the mirror. It was my father's, and Im only allowed to wear it on Reaping day. Aubrey is chattering away about something one of her friends at school said yesterday.

"-and then the dog ate it! It ate the whole cookie! And Sadie was really upset."

There's a knock on the door, and we all fall silent. Mrs. Peters opens the door, frowning. "You Tassiellos are taking an awful long time to put on clothes. It shouldn't take this long. You two," she points at Aubrey and me, "downstairs. Now. You," she points at Alyssa, "come with me. I have told you, we won't tolerate singing here."

I glare at her. This isn't fair. Alyssa doesn't bother anyone with singing. Why should she be punished? Because that's certainly Whats about to happen. "No, we're staying together." The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

Mrs. Peters stares at me in shock. It's rare that her authority is questioned. "Excuse me?"

I gulp. It's too late now. "I said no. We are staying together." Alyssa and Aubrey both look scared now. This probably won't end well.

"Simon!" Mrs. Peters calls down the hall, to her husband. Aubrey grabs my hand.

Mr. Peters stomps in, barely awake. "What?"

"These children here have decided to question my authority. I'll let you deal with them." She turns and flounces down the hall, to yell at some other unlucky orphan.

Mr. Peters rolls his eyes. "What have you done now?"

"Sir, it wasn't their fault," I say immediately. Usually, that wouldn't work, but he looks more tired than normal. After a moment of thought, grunts and let's them pass by.

~~~~

(Alyssa Tassiello's POV)

I don't like leaving Derek, but I don't have much choice. He's too protective, in my opinion. I would be just fine fighting my own battles, sometimes. But he doesn't understand that. He still thinks I'm that little eight-year-old, unable to take care of myself.

Aubrey looks up at me, her sparkly blue eyes full of tears. "Will Derek be ok?"

"Of course. Don't worry about. You know he's strong." I push down my annoyance and worry and focus on my little sister. I hope my smile is reassuring.

Aubrey wipes her tears on her sleeve and tries to smile.

"Hungry?" I ask. She nods, and I lead her downstairs to the dining hall. Most of the other kids are already eating their porridge. I grab two plates and sit down with Aubrey near the corner. It's several minutes before Derek comes in.

"What happened?" My worry is evident in my voice.

He shrugs. "Not much. Just the belt. I'm fine."

Aubrey frowns. "The what?"

"Nothing," Derek and I say at the same time.

"Eat your breakfast," Derek says. He manages to slip half of his into Aubrey's bowl without being caught. She's really frail and small for a six-year-old. I'm worried about her. If we get reaped... Better not to think about it.

~~~~

(Tyne Newton's POV)

"What?!" I shout. "What?! And you're just telling me now?!" Marcus stares back at me, helplessly. Of course he's just telling me now. He never talks anyway, so he should just wait until the very day to tell me.

I take a deep breath, and count to ten. My friend Alyssa says it should help, when I get angry like this. Slowly, the tension leaves my body. Marcus looks relieved as I relax.

"Tyne, Im sorry, but I have to. If there's a way I can win, I have to. I have to volunteer. It's the only way to save Dad."

I understand his reasoning. That option would have never crossed my mind, but if either of us win we could afford treatment for Dad. A couple of years ago, there was a boating accident, which mangled his legs. Treatment is too expensive for our family, as we are barely getting by on Marcus's salary.

"Couldn't you have told me, though? Asked for my consent?"

"Tyne, I would have, but you know Im not good with things like this."

"Obviously." I stomp away. I often get mad at him for "ruining my life," but now he's actually going to ruin my life. I know I'll die.

I run. I don't pay attention to where I'm going, but I end up in the square, where the reaping will be held. I push past some older girls, who make comments like "Can you believe the nerve of..." and "What a little brat..." but I ignore them.

Alyssa arrives, but I don't get a chance to talk to her before our escort comes on stage. Now I'll never see her again. I'd rather live in the Home with her than go to the Games.

The escort calls out some names, and I hear my brother volunteering the two of us. I stubbornly refuse to move, and get dragged up, kicking and screaming, to the stage by a peacekeeper. When asked my name, I yell something about mockingjays. A peacekeeper drags me to the side, and another slaps me, hard. That was enough to bring me out of my angry shock.

Just in time to hear the next names.

My best and only friend and her brother.

Alyssa and Derek Tassiello.