Deceived: The 500th Annual Hunger Games

Chapter 20 - District 6 Reapings

CRESSELIA BLACK'S P.O.V

Today is Reaping Day.

I'm not scared of being Reaped. It will let me escape this horrible place.

I tiptoed down the alleyways near the train station. Zenobia, my half sister, was rummaging through the trash. We haven't eaten in 3 days.

I'm 16 and she's 14. Our mum died giving birth to Zenobia. Our fathers abandoned us ages ago. We aren't important to them.

"Cresselia!" Zenobia screamed. "I found a fish in the bin!"

I snatched it out of her hands and ran to the river. It needed to be cleaned.

I washed the fish as best as I could and gutted it quickly. Oh my god. Real food.

Zenobia was in our little hideout starting up our fire. I threw the fish to her. She's the better cool out of us two.

"Dude," I said, "Reaping is today. I need to go and wash in the river."

"You go first. I'll cook this and then I'll eat mine on the way to the river. You can have yours when you come back." She smiled, the smell of the fish filling my nose. My mouth watered.

I ran to the river again and jumped in. I held my breath as long as I could, it must've been at least 30 seconds.

I waited for my lungs to scream for air until I came back up to the surface. Zenobia had stolen two outfits from the shops all around District 6. I could get these clothes wet knowing I will be changing in a minute.

I scrubbed everywhere on my body. I traced the cuts and bruises all over my body. I winced as I scrubbed my latest cut, a huge gash on my left arm.

After running back to our base, Zenobia gave me my half of the fish. I had to savour this.

I bit into the creature, moaning slightly as the taste exploded in my mouth. I haven't had fish in months.

I forgot the animal had bones. I almost bit right through the bones. I licked the bones and my fingers clean. That was satisfying.

Zenobia came back just as I was throwing the bones away. "What time is it?" She asked.

"About 8am. If we want to get to the square on time, we should leave soon." I said.

I pulled off my khaki trousers and changed into the black jeans I have. They look smart enough to wear to the Reaping for a homeless kid with no money.

I pulled on a button up shirt and tied my brown hair back with my bandana.

"Let's hope we get reaped together, or not at all." Zenobia said, sorting out the skirt she stole. She has the same dark hair and eyes as me, but her skin is a lot darker than mine. We look more like we come from District 11 than here.

I held my breath in. I want to be reaped. I don't want to live here any longer. This place is a hellhole.

"Lets go," I said, a sense of fear and sadness in my tone. We headed out of the alleyway and onto the streets.

JACKSON WAY'S P.O.V

I hate being here.

Cresselia was stood near me, being on the end of the row near the walkway to the stage.

"Are you okay?" I mouthed at her.

She shook her head. Poor girl.

I'm one of the poorer people in District 6, sleeping in bus shelters. I do have a job though. I'm an engineer. I used to give her some of the money I made, but once I became homeless, I had to keep all of my money.

I could tell she had eaten today. She had some energy today and she didn't have bags under her eyes.

District 6 has taken a turn for the worst. No one lives long here anymore. We all starve.

I'm starving right now. I haven't eaten since yesterday at lunchtime. I feel slightly weak.

I don't want to be reaped, seeing as we are up against District 2, but I don't want to be here anymore.

District 6 has started to get more volunteers for the games over recent years. Dying in the Games is less painful to the teenagers of my district than living here.

Zoerhenne, District 6's escort, started her speech about the games and The Capitol and blah blah blah. We don't have a mentor. Our mentor died a few years ago. We haven't had a winner for over 40 years.

"Our now, it is time to select 8 courageous tributes." Zoerhenne walked over to the bowl containing all our names.

"Cherrie Scrabble."

Everyone started complaining. 12-year-old tributes aren't appreciated. Cherrie walked up to the stage, a frightened look on her face.

"Tifa Caraway."

An 18-year-old girl walked up, fists clenched. She was very pretty. I've seen her in the streets before, beating up criminals. She's tougher than any other peacekeeper.

"Devon Jones."

A 15-year-old boy blonde from my class at school. He's pretty quiet. He designs new ideas for cars to make them look prettier.

"Cresselia Black."

My head turned. She smiled. This is what she wanted. She slowly walked to the stage. I could see Zenobia trying to stay strong. The poor kids.

At least Cresselia will not starve for the next week.

"Aldjoy Wellwood."

Another boy from my class. We don't really get on. He is popular because he has loads of talent. I'm just another face of District 6. He teases me for my lack of money.

Thank god a rich kid is going into these games.

"Jackson Way."

That's me.

I could see Zenobia shaking her head. She has lost all hope.

At least I can beat up a rich boy. I don't care if I die - if I can beat up Aldjoy, then I'll die happily.

I walked up to the stage and took a seat next to Cresselia. She has to get out alive. For Zenobia.

"Lawson Wiersneria."

A 13-year-old boy walked up to the stage. He had no left hand. The accident happened about 5 years ago. The classroom was hit by a huge tree and over 20 students died. About 5 people in that room lived, including Lawson.

"Our final tribute is," Zoerhenne fiddled with the paper. "Carlin Albidella."

A 14-year-old boy dragged himself to the stage. He had the same look on his face that Cresselia had. Going to the games is better than being in District 6.

"May I present to you our 8 brilliant tributes," Zoerhenne yelled into the microphone. No one clapped. We have no hope in hell of winning these Games.