Over and Over: The 32nd Hunger Games SYOT

Chapter 6

Hermes Track POV

In the moments before the Reaping began, I stood in front of the boys my age and addressed them in a last-minute word of encouragement. No matter what, we're in this together, and I wanted to help them however I could.

"Remember, whoever gets picked, we all have to help. Any extra pennies go to sponsor gifts, and we all volunteer our time and make sure to do the family's chores and cook meals and stuff while whoever it is is gone," I said. "Whoever gets picked, all of Six goes with him." the other children nodded or quietly managed a verbal agreement. Several were holding hands or crying, and I didn't feel far off myself. They didn't know I was really a hypocrite.

I pretended to be such a nice, good boy, but if I was really selfless I'd volunteer. I was as worthless as my father always told me. All I wanted was to be nothing like him, but I was a coward just like he was. He terrorized a child and I was about to let one die. All my postures and speeches were empty noise.

Most people in Six hated Otho, but I thought he just didn't know what the Games were to us. I never blamed him for what those above him did. I held back panic as he reached into the girls' bowl. I didn't dare look at Armada and tried not to even think her name for fear of jinxing her. Instead Otho called Yasmine Jackson, and Peacekeepers shooed a screaming girl onto the stage. I wanted to volunteer and do what was right, but it was against the rules even if I was brave enough.

I was almost happy when Otho called my name. I was so scared I clenched my jaw so hard my tongue bled, but it was the right name. I deserved it for being a coward and for messing so many things up. I couldn't understand why a few of the boys applauded as I climbed onstage. I wasn't a hero. I wanted to tear apart everyone involved in the Games, but I knew this time they were just.

"Cool suit," I said to Otho. Then Yasmine threw up all over it, so he didn't pay much attention to my remark. "It's okay. Calm down," I whispered to Armada when I saw her crying in the crowd.

Armada was the first to come see me. She looked as beautiful as I'd always envisioned her, and I longed to come back to her.

"I don't know what to say," she said. I didn't either, and she left soon after that. I couldn't reconcile my wish to see her again with the knowledge of what I'd have to do to get there. She'd never be able to love me after that. Even now I was just her dependable friend.

Dad didn't come, of course. Once I got big enough to ignore his words he ran off. I hated seeing the marks and scars he left on Mom. I should have protected her or told someone. I didn't know how she loved me so much. There was nothing I could say that wouldn't hurt her. Neither of us said anything. It was like I was her little baby again and all I needed was to be in her arms.

Even though I wasn't brave enough to volunteer, my death meant some other boy could live. The Games were a chance to prove I wasn't what my father told me I was. If I got back, he would see I was worth something. Surely I didn't have a chance, but I finally found myself ready to try.

Yasmine Jackson POV

I held Aunt Sancia's hand on the way to the Reaping Center. Reapings were even scarier than mean dogs and ghosts. Last year my first boyfriend Jayz got taken away, and he got stabbed at the Bloodbath. I've never looked at another boy since. Sancia was the only thing keeping me brave. She told me girls my age never got Reaped and my name was only in the bowl five or six times out of hundreds.

"Don't look so down. Remember that time you short-sheeted Chika's bed? He was so mad," Sancia said. I found myself smiling. He did look pretty silly. On another day, I'd be planning some other joke or trick. On Reaping day things were different.

Sancia had to go with the other girls her age, and she left me with a bunch of scared little girls just like me. Some of them clustered together and some shrank back and stood apart. I was one of the clustered ones. I didn't know the girls next to me, but for the moment we were best friends.

The Reaping man came and we all froze. Even though I was holding another girl's hand, I wished for her name to come up instead of mine. She must have wished the same for me.

"Yasmine Jackson!" Otho cried. My eyes flew to my aunt and my best friend. She would help me.

"Sancia," I squeaked. She looked over at me and turned away. She must not know it's me. She wouldn't leave me.

"Sancia," I whispered again as the Peacekeepers came closer. They shoved me closer to the stage and I started screaming. She was going to be too slow.

"Sancia! What are you doing? You can win this! I can't!" I begged as the stage loomed closer. Sancia was looking at the ground. The girl next to her was rubbing her back and saying something. Then I knew she wasn't going to help me. She left me to die, and my resistance faded. I walked the last few steps without the Peacekeepers nudging me.

The Reaping man looked us over. I was crying so hard I started to cough, and something came loose in my stomach. I bent over and threw up all over him. He reeled back and a man rushed beside him to start cleaning him up. My mouth tasted awful and my nose burned as I cried. The boy who got reaped after me offered me his sleeve and I wiped off my mouth. Someone announced us hastily.

My mouth was still burning when everyone came to see me off. Sancia wasn't there, but my parents and brothers were. I grabbed onto my mother's shirt and wailed. She couldn't tell me I was going to be okay or that she'd see me soon. Nothing was going to be okay. I wasn't going to come home and I wasn't going to win. Even in my mother's arms there wasn't any hope.

Little bit of TMI there with the vomit. In the interests of honesty, I had to record that the worst part of throwing up is when it goes up your nose.