The 150th Annual Hunger Games

The Reapings (District Three and Four)

District Three's Reaping

Janice Senn's P.O.V.

I follow the stream of teenagers to the town square with an expressionless face. The atmosphere is always so tense on Reaping Day here in District Three. Nobody smiles, and it's so quiet. Whenever you do see someone talking, they are mumbling or whispering. To make it worse, today there is no wind whatsoever. Everything is so still and the only thing I can hear is our steady rumble of footsteps.

A sharp sting in my finger informs me that I've just gotten my finger pricked. It gets pressed to a card and scanned. Then I get ushered into my designated section by a Peacekeeper. A few moments later, the pens are full, and the mayor comes out for his speech.

I close my eyes and take a deep, relaxing breath as I think over my odds. I'm seventeen right now, so my name is in that bowl certainly more than once. I don't even know how many of it is in there in fact, but I know it's a lot and that worries me. However, there has got to be at least a few people in the eighteen-year-old section who have their names in there more than mine.

I slip the ring off my finger and roll it around in my hand. It's metal is smooth and cool. My fingers then run over the rugged surface of where a 3 has been professionally carved into the ring. My mom gave this to me on my first Reaping Day, for good luck. She had given a similar one to a friend of hers as a kid, who volunteered in the last Quarter Quell. He died on Day Four from an earthquake. He and my mom were really good friends before that, and she was heartbroken when he died.

"...so now that you all understand, let's get this rolling!" Ilya Irrington, our escort, squeaks from the stage, causing me to snap back to reality.

I watch her anxiously as she approaches the gigantic bowl and dips her hand into the cards. Selecting one, she draws her hand out with a dramatic flick of her wrist. When she returns to the microphone, she announces the name loud and clear.

"The lovely Janice Senn! Congratulations, dearest!"

A wave of shock crashes into me like a train. My knees feel like they're about to give out as I slowly approach the stage. My palms are sweaty and ears seem to be ringing. I feel sick to my stomach as I say shakily into the mic, "Seventeen..."

"And you will be choosing which boy?" Ilya says and I get an even worse feeling in my stomach. I can't do this...

My eyes are wide as I look at the nervous and anxious faces staring back at me. My heart is pounding in my throat and I can feel tears coming on. Even if I did choose, I don't even know how I could say the name since I can't even talk at the moment.

Suddenly, I feel very dizzy and I can't even think. My knees give out and I feel something hit my head. It isn't until I see Ilya's shoes on the ground near my face do I realize that I had collapsed. Then everything turns black...

District Four's Reaping

Harper Coyle's P.O.V.

I stand in the ocean of boys in my section as the mayor talks. In just a few minutes, he will finish and introduce our escort, Mari Monisa, who will pick one name. Whoever that name belongs to will then pick the second tribute. Simple enough, but it could also be pretty difficult. Nobody in their right mind would want to go into the Games, so how could they choose who else would be doomed with them? I know it would be hard for a lot of people, but I'm not sure about myself.

"And here is your District Escort, Mari Monisa!"

Mari bounces out onto the stage wearing an aquamarine dress adorned with sea creatures. It is quite mesmerizing to watch the sea creatures swim around on the fabric. She taps her silver heels together when she reaches the microphone.

"Hello, let me just say what an honor it is for me to be here! And what an honor it is for the lucky tributes who will accompany me to the Capitol!"

She goes on explaining why all of the names are in one big bowl before selecting a name.

"Harper Coyle!" she says enthusiastically.

I look around, expecting to see the unlucky person walking up to the stage. Then I notice the people around me starting to back away, pinpointing me.

"Oh..." I say with a bit of disappointment in my voice, as I know why they're moving away from me. It was my name that Mari called...

The boys in my section clear a pathway to the stage for me as I walk. As I do, I look nervously at the girl's section, knowing that I need to pick one of them. This might be harder than I thought.

I take the microphone from Mari and give my age in a clear voice, "Sixteen."

Mari watches me expectantly as she waits for me to give the girl's name. I try to find somebody that would be a good choice, but I can't. I keep finding someone related to me, one of my friends, or someone from school. This is feeling really impossible. Then I look at the bowl of names. One of the cards inside is slightly opened, so I can just see the name. Fortunately, it is a girl name, I think so anyways. There's only one way to be sure.

I look back at the crowd and say aloud, "Gwen Reading..."

A girl from the back section walks up to the stage, glaring at me the whole way. She won't take her eyes off me and it's really uncomfortable. She looks tall and pretty strong, so at least she can protect herself. But she could also use her abilities against me, and most likely will, judging by the look she's giving me.

She rips the mic out of my hands and turns to the crowd, tucking her bleach-blonde hair behind her ears, "Gwen Reading, eighteen."

Then she turns to me sharply, poking my chest with her finger, "You're going to regret that, very very much!"

Mari chuckles daintily, yet nervously as she gently takes the microphone from Gwen, "Well, let's leave the next bit for the Games, shall we?"

Gwen scoffs and rolls her eyes before storming into the Justice Building.

"Ok..." Mari says, "I'll wrap this up with giving a big congratulations to our lucky tributes, Gwen Reading and Harper Coyle! Happy Hunger Games, District Four, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"