Power to the People: The Thirty-ninth Hunger Games

Chapter 5

The next full District I had was Five.

Lyra Axelle POV

Everyone in the District wanted to be me. And I wanted to be everyone else. Life stinks, don't it?

"So the slope is 3.4. Is that easier to understand?" my mother asked. No, it's not. I wasn't even listening. I was never going to be good at algebra or the other things they tried to teach me. What I most wanted to learn was how to be like the other kids, but I couldn't do that if I was homeschooled. My father, the illustrious mayor of District Five, said it wouldn't do to have me go to school. He said all the publicity and papparazzi would hurt my grades, since I was doing so well at home. I'd have dropped out last year, but you can't drop out of your own home.

"Are you listening?" my mother asked. I was looking out the window at all the people below. They were all so normal, just going about their business. They were poor and I knew that must be hard, but at least they had each other. What they didn't have was a crowd of shutterbugs following them around looking to catch the mayor's daughter in a juicy scandal.

"Yeah, 3.4," I said to get her off my back. "Whatever. You can just give up." I stood up and ran out of the kitchen and upstairs to my room. My mother called after me and I ignored her. Stupid nag, I thought. Leave me alone.

I resumed my illicit people-watching after I shut the door behind me. I wondered if I could sneak out the window without getting caught. Not when it was so light out, but maybe at night. I could run away and live on the streets like the other people. I'd be dirty and poor and I wouldn't be spoiled anymore. I'd always dreamed of getting out of Five. Sometimes I imagined that I fell in love with a visiting Capitolite and he married me and took me away. I even thought about committing a crime just so I could be a Capitol Avox. But that wouldn't look good for my father.

Mom knocked on my door.

"What?!" I said.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

"Fine," I said. She opened the door and stood in the doorway.

"Spark called. There's going to be another formal this Sunday. They're going to give your father a commendation, and he wants you to be there."

Cute little Lyra singing her daddy's praise, I thought. They dragged me from one event to another to wring all the votes out of me. All I ever wanted was quiet and they made my life a circus.

"Yeah. It'll be fun," I sneered. I looked back out the window until Mom left, and finally I had some peace.

Gabriel Farad POV

Trust in Allah, but tie your camel. Pity everyone else never learned that.

Nobody suspects the dirty little street kid dancing for a few pennies. They saw he was good and tossed him a few coins. They didn't see him lean in and snatch a wallet here and there. It was my only vice. Other than that, I was a good little boy. I even gave ten percent of my loot to the poor.

When I was done, I washed off all the grime I'd smeared on myself and went back home. I wasn't a street kid at all. I had parents who loved me and as nice a home as most people in Five. My father waved at me when I came inside.

Hello! Now the house is brighter, my father signed. I could read lips enough that people didn't even have to know I was deaf, but signing felt like my native language and I preferred it. My mother, who was cutting bread, looked up and smiled. She left the slices on a plate and followed us to the eastern wall of the house. It was noon, and that meant it was time to pray.

I always felt extra special when I prayed. My crescent and star necklace bounced against my bent knees and I was reminded of our people's long history. The government wasn't big on religion in Panem, but we'd never die out. We'd lived through centuries of war and oppression, and we'd be here forever. We finished and stood back up.

Usually I'd have been in school or at work, but it was President Galba's birthday, so we had the day off. She also sent a free tesserae for every family in the District, just to make sure we knew how generous she was. It must have really taxed her pockets to give us that bag of nasty grain.

I felt the floor vibrate and knew someone was at the door. I ran past my father and opened it to reveal Felix, one of my classmates.

"Helllllo Gaaaabriel," he said. He was certain that reading lips was much harder than it was. "Can yyyyou commmme out to play?" I nodded. I probably could have learned to talk with a little practice, but I knew I'd sound funny, even if I didn't know what "funny" sounded like. They'd just treat me different anyway. They mean the best, but I can take care of myself.

I'll tell my parents, I signed. I turned back to them and signed so quickly Felix couldn't keep up. Be back before evening. Felix needs to learn how to talk, doesn't he? Mom and Dad laughed, and I snickered mentally at the joke poor Felix would never get. I can take care of myself, and people who can't figure that out get burned.

As I wrote Lyra, I realized I always make the Tributes nice. No matter how many flaws they have, I always smooth them out. Well, no more. Some people are just plain brats.