#shes already got the blue hat blue shoes blue tail. a little blue hair wont kill anybody

[goodbyehorsies]

blue haired nepeta for your consideration

[hungergames-fanfic]

The Reapings

Word Count: 2606

Today is reaping day. A boy and a girl will be chosen at the Plaza, in front of all of Panem, and be put to fight for their lives in an arena. The winner will bring riches and fame back home, or so that’s what president Snow says on the propaganda commercials. District 10 hasn’t had a victor in over a decade.

For the 4th Annual Hunger Games, daddy’s uncle Amos was chosen as a tribute, cause people still weren’t used to the idea of the games there were riots on the street. A lot people died in my family leaving only momma Bilmin and daddy alive, daddy was a newborn. My best friend Efrain’s daddy, who was just a little boy himself got shot but survived, a story Efrain loves to tell. While all of this happened, the government still took uncle Amos, who was sixteen at the time. Being all alone, mourning the death of her husband and family, momma Bilmin was forced to watch uncle Amos survive the games. He killed the most tributes, a goal some careers claim to wanna surpass, or so Efrain says they say, and came back home as that year’s victor.

With his wealth, uncle Amos bought miles of land and divided it into two with a road seven miles long making it a detour from Bloques, where the poor live, where momma Bilmin and daddy are from, to Littleburg, where the heart of District 10 sits. Here live the rich, where momma and her family is from, shopping centers, hospitals, the Mayoral building and more are located. Uncle Amos also purchased cattle, daddy says back then they only had two of every animal. Cows, goats, chickens, horses, pigs and even sheep, but we don’t have sheep no more. He also built momma Bilmin a pretty house on the land and then years later, before I was born, he killed himself.

No one talks about uncle Amos or watches the games at our house cause it makes momma Bilmin cry a lot. So much so that last night I could hear her from my room, so I spent the night with her. She hugged me until we fell asleep. This morning I woke up to the smell of a thousand types of food.

Cause momma Bilmin knows what it’s like to go to bed hungry, with our money, she cooks big pots of food and feeds those who flock to us. Usually, on the mornings she’ll hand out her famous honey walnut bread to those who walk past our road, but on reaping day, she cooks a grand meal. This year she’s baked bread and a cinnamon version of it, two types of rice, an orange one with tomato and basil that’s a little spicy and a yellow one, which is my favotire cause it has eggs, vegetables and beef, but I’m not eating meat no more. Not after I seen where it comes from. Momma Bilmin also cooked a big pot of beans with bacon and sausage a long with another pot of mashed potatoes and cheese. Enough to feed up to a thousand people or more if portioned correctly.

Cause momma is Mayor Sotto’s secretary, she’s all about appearance. Today she wears an elegant dark blue pantsuit. It makes her look so pretty daddy wont stop hugging and kissing her. She tells him to stop with a smile on her face and makes him wear a tanned suit, threatning with “you ain’t gettin’ any honey” if he wears his cowboy hat. Daddy takes it off so fast it makes me laugh. I watch them from the mirror, where I stand and stare at myself while momma does my hair.

Momma’s made me wear a pink dress with itchy white socks and shiny white shoes I only use when I wear dresses like this. She makes a braid from the top of my head to the back, turning it into a low pony tail and adds a big bow to it. I hate the way I look. Can’t even go out to play when I’m dressed like this. I stare at my reflection wishing I could dress myself. I wonder what i’d chose if I were allowed. Then again, i’m only ten years old and can’t take a bath without supervision.

“Oh, my Dora you look so precious”, momma says kissing my cheeks. I don’t think I look like her, her skin is lighter than mines, but I do have curly hair. The curls aren’t as coily as hers though, just a little thicker in shape. I don’t look like daddy or momma Bilmin either, daddy is too dark skinned and his hair is straight, he looks like momma Bilmin but her skin is as brown as mines. Her hair is just as straight as his, too.

“Miss Esperanza”, Vano, Efrain’s cousin, knocks on the door frame. He clears his throat and takes off his hat showing off the waves on his hair. Unlike most days, him and Eddy, Efrain’s older brother, are dressed presentable and clean, that’s cause they’re both still eligible to be a part of the reapings. “We ready to go”, he says.

The reapings don’t start until one in the afternoon, but cause momma needs to be at work early, momma Bilmin will be feeding people and the boys have to sign up, we’re leaving early. Daddy’s gonna stay behind though, says last year someone stole a couple of chickens while we was in Littleburg.

The ride to the Plaza is boring and takes a lot longer than usual. The roads and highways are packed with new and old vehicles, run down wagons that look like they gon lose a wheel on a bump and horses carrying up to three people. Everyone wants to get there before noon since the peacekeepers are a lot more abundant and meaner on this day. Sometimes they break into homes in search for those that haven’t left yet and beat them out on the streets as a warning for others to hurry up. At one point, on the road we see a man getting frisked while his wife screams at peacekeepers tryna hold her back. This day is stressful as it is, peacekeepers always make things worse.

When we arrive to the Plaza, momma gives me a kiss on the cheek before leaving. She always asks if I wanna go inside the Mayoral Building with her cause there’s air conditioning but I like to stay with momma Bilmin, she doesn’t tell me to shush and sit every five seconds.

Left with just her while the boys go and sign up, I make sure to keep momma Bilmin safe. There’s always somebody ungreatful. Next to our wagon, people form a long line on the sidewalk waiting to be handed a plate of food, I help hand forks.

“Ain’t that some shit, Bilmin!”, an old man stands a few feet away eating some of the bread she’s made. “The youngin’ look just like’em”, he laughs. Momma Bilmin doesn’t look at him, she clears her throat and nods. I’ve seen this look on her before, she wants to cry. Mad at him, I scream “go away!”, he just laughs. “Same attitude too!”, he blurts outs in a laugh that turns into a gross cough.

“Come on, John, move along”, another old man says. A plate in one hand, pulling on the gross old man’s shirt with the other.

“Hey, I lost my Isabella to the games too, we’ve all lost family. You ain’t seen us cryin’ when they names be mentioned. Besides, all I said was the little girl look like Amos”, he goes on but the other man pulls him away. Too late, though. The damage has already been done and momma Bilmin has tears rolling down her face. Is that why momma Bilmin cries when she looks at me? Cause I look like her baby brother?

“When I get bigger I’m gonna beat him up”, I tell her whilst giving her a tight hug. I hate it when she cries. It’s not fair cause she doesn’t deserve to be sad.

She smiles at me, gives me a kiss on the forehead and stares for a little too long before her upper lip starts to quiver and more tears roll down her face. This happens a lot around this time, too. It just takes one look and I make her cry. I wish I could change my face. “Please don’t cry momma, I’m sorry”, I apologize wishing I could stop making her so sad. She rubs my back, wipes her tears and keeps on feeding everyone.

People come and go, they wish us blessings, some cry with thanks and others give us little gifts like handmade jewelry, pretty clothes or micellaneous items. None get my attention like this one though, it forms a big smile on my face the second I spot it. Like a trade, a woman hands momma Bilmin a black, fluffy puppy. “Issa boy, gon grow real big, Geller keepin’ the momma and she real good at guardin’ the house”, she informs. “Polomir need himself a guard dog, been hearin’ ’bout a lot of coyote attacks lately. If anythin’ it’ll eat it and not y’all’s cattle”, she chuckles. Momma Bilmin laughs and denies the pup but the lady wont take it back. She giggles when I beg to please keep it. “Listen to the baby, Bilmin, don’t deny me my gift to you”, “oh, alright, fine. Just don’t let’em near the pots of food”, momma Bilmin snaps a me.

By noon, through intercoms placed in every corner, poles, buildings and trees, we hear Mayor Sotto ask those eligible for the reapings that they have an hour to sign up. This makes a lot of teenagers scatter towards the Plaza, only a block away from where we’re stationed.

In the distance, on my skittish horse, Milk, I spot daddy galloping through the crowded road tryna get to us. Excited to show him the puppy, I hold it in the air and jump.

“Hey Isa!”, I hear an old familiar voice, “that your dog?”, Efrain asks. Seeing him walk towards me with his family makes me so happy I almost fall off the wagon but Jenae, his aunt gently pushes me back. “Careful, Isadora”, she warns helping Efrain and Abie up here with me. Compared to the last time I saw him, pale and near death, skinny and weak, he looks a lot better. “Been back outside playin’ with everyone on the block, Wendy was askin’ ‘bout you and Arielle. Says y’all ain’t go to school yesterday”, he says almost like he’s asking why. I wave my hand in the air, showing off my now dirty yellow cast, I don’t give him the same “it hurts” lie I give momma. I don’t wanna lie to him, so I let him assume on his own. Besides, I don’t wanna tell him about Ari and me not being friends no more. Instead I show him my new puppy, who I’ve named Bean cause he ate all the beans that spilled out the bean pot.

The name makes Efrain laugh. “I’d name him Edwin cause that boy’s hair just as shaggy”, he says. This makes me laugh cause it’s true.

Just like me, Efrain is dressed his very best. Although his clothes are too big for him and practically sun bleached, comapred to the rest of his hand-me-downs, he looks sharp. His curly hair has been bathed in oil making it look wet and shinny, his big gray buttoned long sleeve has been tucked into his brown pants held by red suspenders. His cousin Abie, who’s a year younger than us, wears a gray buttoned up long sleeve too, on her waist she wears a red belt that matches Efrain’s suspenders. Her curls, a lot finer than his, are also oily and shinny in the sun, slicked back with her baby hairs forming waves on her forehead. “Momma thought it be cute if we dressed the same”, Efrain says.

“I look cute”, she snaps, “you look like you need more sun”, she rolls her eyes. Her momma pinches her shoulder. Efrain chuckles.

Next to the wagon, on the street, Efrain’s daddy and momma, who came in her wheelchair cause people gotta be literally dying for them to be allowed to stay home, linger whilst talking to daddy who looks very uncomfortable. While her husband Otto helps momma Bilmin hand out plates of food, Jenae laughs and constantly puts her hand on daddy’s arm.

On top of the Mayoral Building sits a large television screen, it turns on to show a blue image. It slightly rocks back and forth but doesn’t fall. In patterns, all the other televisions around the area start to turn on too. The one above a one-floor shop turns on to show the same blue, another standing on a pole at the corner of the street turns on to show blurry images that turn clear. On the side of a big, wide complex building, a holographic image shows the same, from this one, I watch. On it, Mayor Sotto waddles up to the microphone. He’s short, balding and wears a suit too big for his own good. Behind him stands momma looking ever so pretty. Next to her is Tate Langdon, our only victor. He wears a black suit jacket and jeans with a black cowboy hat that matches. Next to him stands Jai Ngyuen. He’s from the Capitol and wears an all white suit that makes him shine bright. His hair and eyebrows are just as white along with his make up. “Goddamn clown”, I overhear Otto say under his voice.

Clearing his voice, Mayor Sotto begins. He dictates the same story from every year, I recognize it cause its one we read in our history books at school. He explains how Panem came to be, mentions the dark days, uprisings against the Capitol, District 13’s obliteration and the start of the Annual Hunger Games. The camera zooms in on Tate, who the mayor mentions as one of our victors along with “and may he rest in power, Amos Wyetka”, he reminds us of uncle Amos like he does every year. Through the crowd blinded by the sun, the camera goes on and on as if showing off our thousands of possible tributes. Once the mayor is done talking, he wipes the sweat off his shinny bald head with a hankerchief and stands next to momma. I glare at daddy who has a smirk on his face while watching the screen.

“Happy Hunger Games!”, Jai’s shrill voice makes the microphone screech. “And may the odds be ever in your favor”, he shakes his head and raises his arms excitedly. Giggling, fixing his tie, he smiles wide showing his perfect teeth. People in the crowded streets look at each other, some shake their head, others murmur to one another. Daddy turns to look at Efrain’s dad and both chuckle nodding their heads.

On stage, Jai walks over to a glass ball containing the male names. Like every year, he plays shuffling the papers, taking a lot longer than he should. Raising his hand in the air to show the folded piece of paper, two more fly out and fall to the ground. He picks them up, dances with and spreads them in his hands, choosing the middle note. Excitedly he practically skips back to the mic and opens it. Clearing his throat dramatically, he calls out the name of this year’s male tribute.

“Eduardo Oxoro”, Efrian’s oldest brother.