Child's Play: The Forty-Third Hunger Games

Chapter 11

Atro Pitch- 15

It burned me up that the best chance for someone from Twelve to have any life worth living was the win the Games. The rich fat cats in the Capitol thought they could sit and wallow in luxury while people like me were stuck scraping for a living and fighting for everything we got. Every chance I got, I tried to move up in the world, but it was hard in a Disctrict where "rich" meant you weren't starving. I kept a messenger job I hated just so I had a chance to mingle with the merchants. Someday I'd impress one of them and they'd take me as an apprentice. Better than like in the slums of the Seam.

Demi used to be so colorful. She'd grown more serious lately, and her clothes weren't as garish. She was wearing a white tailored jacket and skirt this year. It was more demure, but it wasn't suited for her environment. That snow-white fabric would be covered in soot before she was done calling the first name. I was almost surprised she wasn't wearing a mask. Wouldn't want those rich Capitol lungs to turn as black as our hands.

"This year, I'll start with the girls," Demi said. In past years, she used to shout it. Now she let the microphone carry her voice. "This year's Tribute is... Zaley Flowerfield!"

Ugh, Zaley. Zaley was as sticky-sweet and pie-in-the-sky as her name. She was always smiling and laughing and acting like we weren't all dying in a pit. I couldn't tell if she was brainless or just oblivious. It was nice to see her not smiling for once on the stage. She wasn't crying, though. She looked more unhappy than I'd ever seen her, but she wasn't as sad as she should have been.

"And our male Tribute is Atro Pitch!" Demi said.

I felt a curious mix of emotions. The first was a wave of shock. No one ever thought it would happen to them. Next came anger toward the Capitol for having the Games, and then resentment toward Demi for picking my name.

After that came the positive reactions. It wasn't all bad. I was strong enough to win. I was definitely smart enough to win. I was ambitious and cunning, and I wouldn't let emotion get in my way. If I won, I wouldn't have to go back to the Seam. I'd have the riches and glory I'd been striving for all my life. The Games were the only way out for us, and I was on my way.

Zaley Flowerfield- 18

Life was as good as you made it. There were a lot of things I could choose to be sad about. I was an orphan. I didn't have a family or a home. Food was tight and I had barely anything other than the clothes on my back. But there were things to be happy about, too, and those were the ones I seized on.

There were lots of flowers in Twelve. That was something to be happy about. I didn't know the names of most of the wildflowers I was picking as I sat in a field, but they were pretty. I wanted to give them to all the people who helped me after my parents died. I was only fourteen then, and I would have died without them. Everyone was struggling in Twelve, and nobody could have blamed them if they'd kept the little food they had to themselves. But no one wanted to see a kid starve, even if it happened once in a while, and I didn't eat much. People gave what they could and I lived off of crusts and half-rotten fruit until I learned a few of the plants we ate when tesserae and our meager rations weren't enough. I made myself a shack out of leftover bits of wood and shingles and after the Reaping I'd be able to start work in the mines and hopefully make enough to eat.

It wasn't always like this. I liked to look on the bright side and focus on the future, but some of that was because the past was nothing pretty. When I was little, my family and I lived somewhere far away. We were poor there, too, and one day my parents decided we should run away. We'd heard rumors of an underground secret District way out in the wilderness, and a faint shot at freedom was as good as the life we left behind. Miraculously, we made it to the wilderness. More realistically, we were quickly found and reported. My parents stalled the Peacekeepers long enough for me to get away. I saw the fence in the middle of the night and it didn't matter if it was electric or not. I would have died if I hadn't tried. Either it wasn't electric or it wasn't on, and I ended up in Twelve. Things were just as hard here as they were before, and I didn't have my parents anymore. I looked to the future so I could leave my past behind. There were opportunities in the future.

Life didn't have to be like this. If they stopped having the Games, we'd be so grateful we'd never rebel again. They could open up the borders and the Peacekeepers wouldn't be so mean. My parents didn't have to die. Maybe someday, things would be different.

Zaley had a complicated backstory, so I've tried to make it as near canon as possible. If you squint a little while looking at the timeline, her parents would have tried to escape right about when Galba was assassinated. Panem was chaotic at the time, explaining how they got as far as they did. And we all know the fences of Twelve are sometimes off.

Zaley has black hair, green eyes, and olive skin. She is tall and underfed. Atro has the normal Seam looks but keeps his hair extra neat.