The 200th Annual Hunger Games - The Ultimate Games

District 6 Reaping

Ali Richardson POV

I looked around the small little bakery I worked in, looking for anyone who may have been watching me. The peacekeeper who was watching us all work was standing in the corner, gazing round at the commotion of work. Everyone was too busy making dough, pulling bread out of the oven, or garnishing the dough with toppings before putting them in the oven. I looked down at the loaf of bread in my hands, the loaf I was meant to be slicing up to be packed in a bag and sold. Checking one more time for anyone watching, I stuffed the loaf of bread into my shirt, holding it close to me. The heat burned my tender skin, but I chomped down on the inside of my cheek and ignored the pain.

"Next loaf!" I called to one of my coworkers. She nodded and handed me a loaf of bread fresh from the oven. It looked delicious, with poppy seeds on it and seaweed strewn throughout it. Although we weren't District 4, the district of fishing, the people from district 6 liked the salty local bread that they made over there. I looked down at the loaf in my hands, and my stomach rumbled loudly. I'd already taken one loaf of bread. I didn't want to risk getting caught.

But this loaf looked too delicious to pass up. I'd only stolen plain bread before, as the missing loafs of bread were less noticeable because we made so many of them. My family, consisting of my 8 siblings and my mother, had never tasted the district 4 bread. It was reaping day, after all. They should be able to indulge a little. I looked around, watching to see if anyone was looking. Still no one. I quickly stuffed the bread into my shirt, keeping it close to me to avoid a noticeable lump under my jacket.

"Alright everyone, works out for the day!" the head baker announced loudly. I wiped the flour off of my hands and pulled off my grubby apron, hanging it on the hooks by the back door. I began to walk out of the door, but suddenly an iron clad hand gripped my arm. I turned around and found myself face to face with none other than a peacekeeper. A cold feeling of doom went through me. Everyone working in the bakery stopped what they were doing and stared at me. Several knew I stole, but those few who knew the truth also knew that my family would all be dead without the food. So they kept their mouths shut.

"What's under your jacket?" The peacekeeper asked cruelly. I stared up at him defiantly.

"Nothing." I retorted. The peacekeeper growled and jerked at my arm, making me cringe in pain, but I'd learnt not to fight back physically. That was a lesson I'd learnt the hard way, and I was in no mood to be beaten up.

"Really?" The peacekeeper smirked, his lips tilting up in a cruel smirk. "Nothing at all?"

"Nope." I said bluntly. I went for the door again, but the peacekeeper pulled me back and stared at me with a knowing look on his face.

"Lift up your shirt." The peacekeeper said coldly.

Oh hell.

I matched my gaze with the peacekeeper, my eyes defiant and cold. If I lifted up my shirt, the bread I'd stolen would fall out and I'd be screwed. I was stuck.

So I did the one thing I could do in this situation.

I smiled politely at the peacekeeper, moved my hands to lift up my shirt, and just as my hands scraped the soft fabric, I dropped my arms, turned on my heel and bolted out the front door. I heard a yell of surprise as I barged out of the kitchen door and flung open the door leading outside, slamming it behind me as I sprinted for an alleyway nearby. I'd never been caught stealing before. I had absolutely no idea where I was going.

Anywhere but here.

I heard the peacekeeper yell for backup into his walkie-talkie as he ran after me, and soon enough about 4 peacekeepers had joined him. District 6 had a very low tolerance for thievery, and the consequences were harsh. Apparently starving in the streets is absolutely fine, but stealing is a no-no, god knows why.