Runaway Tribute

Crimson had made it 7 years without being picked, now she is eighteen and this is her last year, but not everything goes as planned. Crimson's named get's picked, and she has no choice but to fight.


1. Reaping Day

I sat on the edge off the pier, my feet getting washed with the green water that glistened like emeralds in the sunlight. This water provided the food for everyone here in District four, but also the problems. I have been here all day, since the sun rose up and filled the sky with a beautiful orange to now, where the sun is high up in the sky, beating on our skin and feeding off our hope hoping to escape the dread that would come for me and my family. I had been able to slip past for seven years, and I hope the same could be for this time but it isn’t me I am worried about, it is Ash and Aria. They still have five-six years left since Ash is thirteen and Aria is fourteen.


"All of District four, please head over to the quad." the mayor's voice echoed throughout the district, causing many to fear what could be the end of their or their loved ones lives. I picked my feet out of the water, pulling them over the edge so they were on the pier.


I slid my cold, wet feet back into my black, wore out flats before I stood up and made my way toward the quad.


The quad was a giant section in the middle of district four. Filled about eighty percent of the population, which was enough room for everyone who was between the ages of twelve to eighteen. I walked past the market, where Mr. Dama struggled to sell the small bass he had caught in a small marsh down the valley.

“Please! My nets are broken, this is all I have to live on.” Mr.Dama was seventy-four, still forced to ponder around District Four for food. Last week a shark had bitten though his net and he couldn’t afford another one. You think some people would be sympathetic since well all try to help as much as we can but it has been hard lately and now with the Hunger Games, everything has been really stressful.

I walked over to Mr.Dama who looked like he was on the verge of tears.

“How much for the whole bag?” I watched his eyes light up in joy.

“20 coins, I don’t want to run you dry, after all you are on your way to the Quad.” 

I dug into my front pocket and pulled out 36 coins. I dumped them all into his hand, and he passes on the bag of clearly unsavory fish. I gave one last quick smile before heading back toward the quad with the bag of castaways. 


I got into the long line of potential tributes. I watched as new comers cried and seniors cross their fingers. I watched Aria and Ash walk into the quad, looking as brave as they could be. When I got up to the table of several peacekeepers, I set my free hand out in front of the man, who shot a jolt of electricity into my finger, letting a little dot of blood to reach the surface of my pale white skin. 


He pressed it down on the paper, scanning it. When the name read Crimson Mayfield, he pushed my hand aside.


"Next!" he yelled. I raise my finger to my mouth and I lick the little dot of blood off my finger. The two Peacekeepers at the entrance stopped me before entering and threw the bag of fish away. I wasn’t going to complain for I was going to throw it away anyways. After they threw the fish away they directed me with the other eighteen year olds.


I stood next to a girl with long blonde hair. 


She looked ahead,not down at her feet like most of us do when we put our future into the hands of Wisher Bones, the man that comes every year to pick a name out of the bowls, picking the people whose face will be in the sky of the arena by dawn. 


After everyone got into their groups, Wisher walked onto the stage, wearing a capital favorite. A ruffled lime green shirt, with matching polka dot pants. Wisher had black shy hair, that reached his shoulders. His eyes were a putrid yellow while the rest of his skin was a purplish hue.


He stepped in front of the microphone, with a giant grin on his face.


"Welcome to the annual 76th Hunger Games! We have a present to you from the Capital.


He gestured toward the giant screen that was to the left of him, where the same video that they brainwash into your head played. I wasn't paying attention though, I watched the blood from where the man zapped me, trickled down my finger. I didn't bother to wipe it off, because there was nothing to wipe it off with, so I let it fall down my finger, dripping onto the concrete under me. I mimicked the sound of it dripping off my finger quietly, almost as if it was actually the sound of my blood exploding on contact with the ground. I took my glance off my finger when the video had ended.


"Now for the ladies!" Wisher almost bounced to the bowl which held 21 slips with my name on it.


I took 3 tesseraes in my name. One for me, one for Ash, and one for Aria. My mother earned enough money at work to feed herself, so this was the pact we made.


His hand fell into the bowl and didn't come back up until he had most certainly found the tribute to be thrown into the arena and killed.


He bounced back to the microphone, holding the slip of paper in his hand. He unfolded it, smoothing the creases, making every child hold their breath,  and every parent to close their eyes.


"Crimson Mayfield." he read. 


It was as almost instantly all the blood rushed from my body to my finger. I felt as if I was almost falling so I took a step forward

and everyone cleared a path. I stumbled through the group of girls, who never talked to me, never knew we, and they still felt bad for me. I could tell on their faces that they wished me luck. But several girls I passed had smirks. Not because they hated me or that I deserved it, it was because now they can live a reaping free life, now not having to worry about their name being in the bowl anymore. I quickly sucked the blood from my finger. I wonder why it is still bleeding.


When I finally made it to the aisle two peacekeepers pushed me along. They gave me a final push toward the stairs, where I climbed up and stood next to Wisher Bones. 


"Now for the men." he skipped in front of the bowl, where he set his hand in, playing with the slips like he was a kid, deciding on which piece of candy he wanted from the bowl.


He finally decided on one, he plucked it out and pranced in front of the microphone.


I tried to take a glimpse of the slip and my heart stopped, before I could hear Wisher speak, I closed my eyes, plummeting down onto my back. The last thing I saw was the little puddle of blood that fell from my finger and then I closed my eyes.

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