Chapter 9
1250 Words
Austin Dallas POV
Somehow, I always knew this was going to happen. It was like there was a curse on the Dallas name. First my brother's best friend Zach got Reaped. Of course that was worse for him than us, but Jay took it hard. Then Jay got Reaped and I watched my brother die once. After he died, his girlfriend Flora committed suicide and since Jay was supposed to be the next mayor, all of Eleven was turned upside down. Later, Jay and Zach made history by being the first boys from Eleven (along with a few others) to die not once, but twice in the Hunger Games. The only silver lining was the chance for future resurrections, but I had the feeling two-time losers would become three-time losers with our luck.
I'd done what I could in Jay's absence. It was a huge risk to so much as look at a Peacekeeper the wrong way, but they couldn't see everything. I played Russian Roulette every time I snitched a pear or poached a rabbit with my spear, but so far the Dallas curse had ignored that part of my life. We had enough to eat and life went on, though it would never be the same without Jay.
Sometimes I thought about volunteering. What stopped me was my duties at home. I had to take care of the family and most likely I'd end up mayor like Jay was supposed to be. Everyone was so eager to take me as a memorial, it wouldn't have mattered if I was a terrible politician. As far as I knew I was actually a decent one, though I can't judge myself.
So in the end, it didn't surprise me when Snapdragon called my name. It was like deja vu. I had the feeling this was always meant to be and that I'd done it before. Jay and I were so alike I sometimes felt like his ghost. I knew sometimes our mother turned away when she saw my face. I was a reminder of the most painful thing in our life. Even my token was his- his old jaybird necklace. We took it off his dead neck. Mine might be next. I wondered about my little brother Colt back home, and my girlfriend Fauna. Was it going to happen all over again?
I'd known it was coming so long I'd prepared for it. I knew exactly what I was going to do if I won. When I won, I tried to convince myself. With my prize money, I could fix my broken family, at least the parts that money could fix. After the Resurrection Games, I knew the Capitol had the technology to bring my brother back. They'd have to listen to the new Victor and grant him his wish. If they didn't, I could wait until the next Resurrection Games and lay on the pressure then. Even if they didn't vote for Jay, I could convince them to add one more Tribute. I could break the Dallas Curse. All I had to do was win.
Delilah Clementine POV
I heard the most beatiful thing in my life the day my mother died. My father spent the tiny death pittance on a group of singers for her. The moment I heard them, I knew what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I watch them in rapture, like I was seeing the angels come to take her away. The day after that, I took the handful of coins I had leftover from my field work and asked them to teach me. It wasn't enough, of course, but they took me on anyway. For eight years they taught me, and I put together a tiny choir in school to practice more. Our next concert was tomorrow, the day after the Reaping. It seemed like we were jinxing ourselves, but I wanted to push on and be optimistic. We'd all be here, and we'd sound great.
It was our last rehearsal. I didn't let anyone in but the singers. I'd never been confident about my singing. Years of teaching couldn't add to my natural talent, and I'd always feared I was a terrible singer and the others couldn't bear to tell me. When it came time for my solo, I closed my eyes and pretended no one else was there.
We were always careful to keep our songs lighthearted and non-rebellious, but everything had a hidden meaning. My father said our people did the same thing long ago, back before the Dark Ages when the Districts kept people as slaves. The song we picked was onstenibly about the changing seasons. The lyrics talked about how the cold came in and the plants withered, and how things used to better before, in the springtime. It was a mournful song, and I tried to think of sad things when I sang it. Mostly, I thought of my mother.
Everyone was quiet when I stopped. I didn't do good, I thought. I'd stepped forward for my solo, so everyone else was behind me. I peeked behind my back to get the worst over with. The other five singers were staring at me. One of them, Mallow, was crying.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"That was so good. You're amazing," Tilda said. I blushed.
"Oh. Uh, thanks. I think everything went well. We should be ready for the real thing," I said. It creeped me out that everyone was looking at me, so I grabbed my stuff and ran home.
"You're late," my father said when I walked in. "Did you have detention again?" My father always supported me, but I was never brave enough to tell him about my singing. I wasn't good enough yet. What if he saw me and wasn't impressed?
"No," I said, but I quickly corrected myself. "Not exactly. The principal wants to meet with you the day after tomorrow, after school hours. He says to bring Quince, too." Even when I was inviting them to my concert, I couldn't bear to say that was what it was. My father sighed.
"I don't know what's gotten into you. I'll have to take the day off work..." he said. "All right. But we're going to get to the bottom of this."
My heart was racing as I put my things away. My father and brother were about to find about what all those "detentions" really were. It would have been less scary if I really had been misbehaving.
That's the last full District I have. I realize I update fast and people have lives, so I can hold the reserved spots for a bit. I need the following users to either send in their Tributes, tell me they intend to but are busy at the moment, or tell me they don't want their spots. In two days, I'll give away one spot from anyone who has two, and two days after that I'll reopen the spots.
The SEVEN MALE slot has been returned and is open.
Madam Pepper Potts: Four female and Nine Female
Thebigpig: Nine Male
Venerated Art: Ten Male
Primaryfocus: Twelve Female
There's also the possibility I mislabeled these slots, in which case the users involved can just tell me I messed up.
Once the slots are reopened I intend to show preference to submitters with no other slots so as many people who want to participate can, but other than that I pretty much take the first submission.
- Writer
