The Rebel Victor | I [THG]

Chapter Two | The Death Sentence

The two of them made it back in time to join the other kids in getting signed in. Then, they took their rightful place in the other group of kids of the same age and gender. All the girls wore the same thing practically, some sort of blue or green dress. Even Quinn did, it was old, but it was the nicest thing that the older girls passed down that she had been lucky enough to get.

As the rest of the children were signed in and took their place, Quinn messed with the smooth foam green material in between her fingers. Her hair was pulled back in a tight braid, almost too tight...but it easily could have been the anticipation of the Reaping giving her a headache. Her entire head seemed the throb, she could feel it pulsing as girls pushed past her to get to the outside of the group. You didn't want to get trapped on the inside, you didn't want to be completely surrounded, you didn't want to be standing near the kid who was going to die this year.

The Propaganda video at the beginning of the Reaping was exactly the same, images of the Rebellion flashed across the screen with the voice of President Snow narrating the entire thing. Words about how everything was to be blamed on their ancestors and on District Thirteen—the lost district. The District that finally stood up against the Capitol, but also the District that sentenced the other twelve Districts to a complete new sort of hell—the Hunger Games. The video however didn't remain that dark and bloody, it ended after talking about the honor and new fortune that the Victor's of the games would have after they won. Or slaughtered the other unlucky kids as Quinn liked to put it.

As the video ended, the Mayor of District Four walked up to a microphone that stood between two bowls, full of names. But Quinn quickly pulled her attention away from the bowls and the Mayor's speech. In stead her eyes scanned the heads of the girls in front of her. There was Heather, she was sixteen and she was pretty nice. She hadn't been mean to Quinn when she became an orphan...there was Rudy, another orphan...she was almost seventeen. But all of the girls she saw, she only saw a kid who was hoping not to get chosen the tribute for the seventy-third annual Hunger Games. Heather and Rudy, they both had siblings to worry about. How could they take care of them if they died in the games? Quinn however had nobody. Everyone in her family was dead. Would she be able to bring herself to volunteer if Heather or Rudy were chosen? It seemed like a stupid thing to do...volunteer for death. It would be a sacrifice, but it wouldn't make a difference...a sacrifice was still a pointless death.

"Well," the high pitched voice of Remilda Swan, the escort for District Four quickly snapped Quinn out of her thoughts. "Let's get to it, shall we?" she asked. She wore a sea blue dress that puffed out at the skirt and sleeves and the torso had lighter blue stitching. Her light brown hair was pinned up, her face was extremely pale, and she walked in shoes that seemed like a piece of art. "Ladies first!" she exclaimed happily and the crowd of girls visibly became tense.

Remilda practically skipped to the bowl on the girls side of the stage and held her hand above the pieces of paper. Quinn could feel her stomach flipping in circles as she snatched a piece, and she felt like she was going to vomit when Remilda held it up as she walked back to the microphone.

"And now..." she paused dramatically, "The brave young lady who will have the honor of representing District Four in the seventy-third annual Hunger Games is..." she paused again as she unfolded the piece of paper. "Quinn Maverick!"

Quinn's stomach dropped to the ground, and her feet seemed to become part of the ground. Her breathing seemed to stop and got caught in her throat as she tried to choke it out. She knew her name was in a lot, but there had to be a few of the eighteen year olds with their names in it even more than she did! But as the girls around her turned towards her, she knew that it had really been her name that was called. She was the unlucky girl this year with a death sentence. Sure she had a bit of training from Finnick, but she wasn't good at any of it.

"Come on, dear, chop-chop!" Remilda chirped in and got Quinn's thoughts and eyes back to the stage in front of her.

Quinn swallowed the lump in her throat as she slowly turned and began to take steps towards the opened aisle where peacekeepers were waiting to walk with her to the stage. Slowly she found her way to the edge, and stepped out of the crowd of people. Then another daunting thought fell over her...she was a mess, she always was. But now, the cameras that were recording the Reaping in Four were directed right at her. Everyone in Panem was watching for her, they all heard Remilda call her a second time, they all saw her hesitation to step forward—and now they all saw the mess of a tribute that District Four was stuck with.

She swallowed a second lump in her throat as the peacekeepers stood on either side of her. They were so close...the thought of trying to grab on of their guns crossed her mind. If she didn't shoot herself first, the other peacekeeper would shoot her. On national TV too...what would they do? Would they pick somebody else for the female tribute? Would there only be twenty-three tributes this year?

But before Quinn could act on anything, she was on the stairs, and had Remilda's arm around her as she guided her to her rightful place on the right side of the microphone.

"I think someone is a bit nervous." Remilda said lightly, as she began to clap and the sea of people from Four did the same. "Now for the boys." she sighed as she then turned. Quinn watched her walk to the second bowl.

Every name in that bowl is the name of someone who might be killing you in a week, she thought, or you might kill them.

She quickly shook that thought out of her head. Of course not, how could she kill her own district partner? She couldn't face the idea that if she did...she would return and be hated by an entire district...labeled a traitor.

Quinn was in a complete daze, because she blinked once it seemed and Remilda was back in her spot directly next to her.

"And the young man who has the privilege to represent District Four is..." she paused again for dramatic affect. Quinn suddenly felt a knot in her throat again. "Arkon Pency!"

Quinn sighed in relief. Jensen was still safe. While she was going to die in a week, Jensen would be able to take care of his sister like he should have been.