07

The Fourth

A Hunger Games FanFic

By Sophia

PROLOGUE

100 years ago, the very first Hunger Games. As a reminder to all of Panem, of the rebellion they tried to fight, the Capitol created a brutal thing. A thing that would change the lives of all citizens of Panem. They created the Hunger Games. 

In memory of the people the Capitol lost in the war, the Capitol had the Districts pick two children, from the ages of 12 to 18, one boy and one girl, to get sent into an arena to fight to the death for the Capitol citizens' entertainment. 23 children died each year. One lucky child received the honor of winning the games. This went on for decades. 

One year, everything went haywire. A young sixteen year old girl from District 12 by the name of Katniss Everdeen, rebelled against the Capitol. She volunteered for her younger sister and was plucked out of her rough 12 life and thrown into the 74th Hunger Games alongside Peeta Mellark. Katniss and Peeta, to everyone's shock, made it to the end. Refusing to kill each other, Katniss pulled out Nightlock, a deadly berry and threatened to eat it at the same time as Peeta, handing the Capitol no victory. They were stopped but this sent the Districts into a rebellion. 2 years later, Peeta, Katniss, and all of the people involved with the whole rebellion were executed publicly in front of the Capitol. The Capitol regained power and is now entering the 100th Hunger Games, and the 4th Quarter Quell.

1 ~ The Reading Of The Card

All across Panem, TVs were tuned to show the reading of the card. A beautiful young woman walked onto the stage, high heels clacking, navy dress swaying. The woman had way too much makeup on and her chocolate brown hair was pulled into a tight bun atop her head. A wicked smile crept across the woman's face as she took a seat on the velvet chair and turned to face the audience of eager Capitol citizens.

"Hello everyone, and welcome to the reading of the card. We are heading into the 4th Quarter Quell. As you know by now, every 25 years, the Capitol changes the rules for that year's Hunger Games. For the 25th anniversary, as a reminder that they were responsible for the Hunger Games, each District had to vote on a male and a female tribute to send into the games. For the 50th anniversary, as a reminder that two rebels died for each Capitol citizen, the Districts had to send double the amount of tributes into the games. For the 75th Hunger Games, as a reminder that all the Districts that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the Capitol, the tributes were reaped from the existing pool of victors. And now, for this year," the woman said. She reached into a gold box and pulled out an envelope that read, 4, on the front. The woman opened the envelope and pulled out a card. "For the 100th anniversary, as a reminder that Capitol families were torn apart, each District will send two sets of siblings into the games." Gasps were heard in every household across Panem. Not only would families be losing one child, but two. And the victor will be losing a sibling. Let the 100th Hunger Games begin.

2 ~ District One: Reaping

(Lizzy Foster POV)

My younger sister sat on the edge of my perfectly smoothed out bed as I brushed my honey blonde hair out before braiding it back in a singular braid. Tizzy's blonde hair was pulled back into two pigtails making her look way younger than twelve. Nonetheless, Mom insisted she pulled them back into pigtails. For her first Reaping. Tizzy was wearing the dress I wore at my first Reaping, a dark, navy dress that reached down to the knees. Her face is pale and dazed.

"What's up?" I finally ask. She looks at me, tears in her eyes.

"I just wish you'd wait until next year," she whispers. My face turns cold.

"I have to do this," I say sternly.

"No you don't!" she cries, leaping off the bed. "You are only seventeen! You still have one more year of eligibility! I'm only twelve!"

"Jared-"

"I don't care about your stupid boyfriend! I care about living past twelve! I'm not prepared for this! You are so self-centered!" she screeches, tears now dripping down her face like a rainstorm. She turns on her heel and exits the room, slamming the door behind her. I stare for a second at the door. Then I shake it off and head down stairs. 

The Reaping will start in 20 minutes so I decide to slide out the door so I won't have to walk with an angry Tizzy. There is a slight mist that sprinkles my freckled face. I reach the square where there are tables set up with long lines stretching down the path. I jump in line at the shortest path which moves shockingly fast. I reach the front of the line and they prick my finger. I follow the crowd over to the sections labeled with plastic signs stating age and gender. I find the seventeen year old girl's section and run over to my best friend Kalara.

"Are you volunteering?" she asks. I nod excitedly. "What about Tizzy?"

"She'll be fine. Jared and I are both volunteering and we will protect her and Sophie," I say, waving it off.

"What if Jared gets picked?" Kalara says, voicing my exact thoughts.

"That won't happen. His name's only in there six times. The odds are in our favor." The square quickly fills up, making this feel a lot more real than it seems.

(Vix Lockenser POV)

I tremble in the cold mist. The twelve year old section is packed with other kids like me, who are going to their first Reaping. I recognize kids from my school. I see kids that I know are only children and remember Reapings are mandatory. My older brother, Lyle, is in the fifteen year old section. He reassured me this morning that he wouldn't volunteer us. I'm just praying he's keeping that promise. 

I flip my sandy brown hair out of my face and watch as our escort walks up onto the stage with the mayor of 1. Our escort's name is Olympia Lilsworth and her hair is brighter than everything around us. She is incredibly annoying and speaks in a high pitched voice. The mayor reads some sort of card and then exits the stage. Olympia reaches into the conjoined bowl with the boy and girl names. 

Each slip this year has two names, a pair of siblings. I know the names she reads off though won't be the children going into the games though. The children of District One prepare all year for the games and volunteer at the Reaping. Olympia opens the slip and reads of the names. "Felicity and Roman Hockins." A girl and a boy come out of the fourteen year old section shakily and they walk up to the stage and stand next to Olympia. "Do we have any volunteers?" Olympia asks as if there won't be any.

"I volunteer as tribute!" someone yells from a section in the back. A honey blonde steps out and struts up to the stage, but before climbing up the steps, stops and waits for her sibling. The Peacekeepers drag another honey blonde I recognize from my class up to the stage. The girl, who's name I can't remember, is crying silently and suddenly yells out, "I told you to wait another year Lizzy!" and then goes back to crying. The Peacekeepers place her next to her sister who has already stopped next to Olympia. Her cries have turned into soft whimpers.

"And what are your names?" Olympia asks.

"I'm Lizzy Foster and I'm 17 and this is my younger sister Tizzy who is 12," Lizzy says grinning. Tizzy's eyes dart across the square, shakily, as if searching the crowd for help. Olympia turns to the bowl again.

"And now for our next set of siblings," she says. She pulls out a piece of paper and reads off the exact names I don't want to hear. "Jared and Sophie Addamms." Lizzy's smile fades. Tizzy stops whimpering and her previously sad face turns into a mix of horror and shock. I freeze. Jared and Sophie walk up to the stage, their faces unreadable. Sophie is Lyle's girlfriend. As they stand next to Olympia she calls out, "Any volunteers?" And an all too familiar voice yells out, "I volunteer as tribute!" Lyle steps out of his section and yanks me out of mine as he passes.

"You promised," I whisper. Lyle ignores me and gives Sophie a quick kiss on the cheek as she passes by. I stumble up the stairs after Lyle and I root to the spot next to him.

"What are your names?" Olympia asks.

"I'm Lyle Lockenser and I'm fifteen and this is my younger brother Vix who is twelve."

"You promised," I say a little louder this time. Lyle kicks me hard in the shin causing me to wince. Everyone notices.

"Now, shake hands," Olympia instructs. I shake Lizzy's hand first. Her handshake is firm but stiff. Next is Tizzy. Her hand is cold and her handshake is limp. "Everyone give it up for our District One Tributes!" Olyimpia yells. Everyone claps politely. We are dragged off the stage by some Peacekeepers. I pinch myself but unfortunately confirm this is real.

3 ~ District Two: Reaping

(Cassandra Mockling POV)

Mother smooths out my pale yellow dress. I'm blinking away tears. I have to stay strong. For Mother. For Jonah. But most importantly for me. Jonah, my twin brother, is straightening his yellow shirt and staring endlessly into the mirror. This is only our second Reaping but it is already more frightening than the first. 

This year, the Capitol decided, "Hey let's send innocent sets of siblings into the games!" Being from Two, most of us volunteer. Jonah hasn't talked at all since the reading of the card. I'm hoping it means he won't volunteer. We are too young. All of us are too young. The Capitol people are idiots. 

Mother leads Jonah and I out the door silently. Since Father died three years ago, an execution, Mother hasn't been herself. She never speaks to us unless we speak to her. Two years ago, my sister Rosie volunteered for my sister Maria. Maria was 13 at the time, the same age we are now, and Rosie was 17. Maria begged her not to, but Rosie just ignored her. Rosie died by the hand of the other boy from our District. While she was sleeping he impaled her with a spear. The boy won and returned home. 

When no one was watching, except me, who was peeking out through the bush, My eleven year old self watched Maria stab him to death behind the fence that cuts off Two from the rest of Panem. I never told anyone, not even Jonah, and I tell him everything. We were informed Maria committed suicide four days later. 

Mother is more broken than we are but it is close. We reach the square, dark, stormy clouds floating above. They prick my finger and then Jonah's. I follow Jonah to the thirteen year old section and then we part ways in the middle, me heading to the girl's section, Jonah making his way through the boy's section. I stand alone, praying that Jonah isn't too broken and volunteers us. I hope the odds are in our favor.

(Maeve George POV)

I glance behind me and find Hayley's eyes boring into the back of my head. 'Don't do it. Please.' I mouth. She ignores me completely. Hayley is... interesting. She... enjoys killing. I don't even know anymore. I am almost absolutely positive that she is going to volunteer us.

"You'll be fine," my best friend, Sylvia says. Her dark eyes say otherwise but I choose to believe in the positive side to this. Our escort, an obnoxious young woman named Felicity Golding sashays to the microphone. Her pastel, big, poofy hair is hideous. Her maroon dress is even more hideous though and clashes horribly with the hair. She says a quick greeting and then reaches her hand into the big, clear bowl in front of the microphone. She fishes around for just the right slip and then brings her hand back out, a white slip in her hand. She opens the slip and reads out the names.

"Kiko and Deirde Masons!" Two twins step out of the sixteen year old section and strut up to the podium. Felicity asks for volunteers. A small voice yells out "I volunteer as tribute!" A girl shrieks. A small boy jumps out of the thirteen year old section. He has a pale face and light brown hair. A girl is pulled out by the Peacekeepers from the thirteen year old section and gets dragged up the stairs. She has the same light brown hair and pale face as the boy. She gets placed next to her brother who is standing on the stage and Felicity asks for their names. The boy speaks up.

"I'm Jonah Mockling and this is my twin sister Cassandra."

"Very good," Felicity says. The girl is shaking and the boy has a stone cold face. Felicity claps her hands like a little girl receiving a birthday gift. She reaches into the bowl again and fetches another slip. She opens it and purses her lips, light pink eyebrows raised.

"Eddie and Ester Jillings," she reads. The whole square is dead silent. The mayor's twins walk up to the stage, trying to show courage. It's not working. Mayor Jillings is in hysterical tears, getting comforted by the vice mayor. I don't know why she is so sad. Someone will volunteer and her fragile twins will be fine. "Any volunteers?"

"I volunteer as tribute!" Hayley yells. I sigh. She strides up to the stage, dragging me from my spot in the fourteen year old girl's section. I reluctantly get dragged along and Hayley introduces us on stage. "I'm Hayley George and I'm 16 and this is my 14 year old sister Maeve."

"Give it up for District Two's Tributes!" Felicity yells. The audience claps politely. The Peacekeepers come and drag us off the stage. The last thing I see is my mother's face. Staring at us with tears running down her face like a broken faucet.

4 ~ District Three: Reaping

(Bradlee Rhodie POV)

"Hey Bradlee?"

"Yes lil' dude?" I answer, shoving my lucky coin in my pocket.

"What if we get picked?" My little brother, Harris, stares up at me with big eyes. They are watering, on the verge of tears. I look into his hazel eyes.

"Hey, it'll be fine. There are so many other siblings in 3! We'll be fine." I wrap my arms around him. He is so young. Only 12. I can't believe the stupid Capitol has to do this. They're like "Hey let's send siblings into the games! Wouldn't that be even more scarring than sending a singular person?" 

I follow my oldest brother, Donovan, who is 26 and my other brother, Matthew who is 19. Fortunately, in their years of the Reaping, they never once got picked. Ever since our parents died when I was 7 (Harris was 5, Matthew was 12, Donovan was 19) Donovan has taken care of us. 

The square was getting packed with families and I followed them into a small line that curved towards a large, white table attended by workers. One by one, the workers took the person who was next in line's hand and pricked it, getting their DNA from their blood or whatever. I don't really know how it works. We creep up to the front of the line and after all of my brothers, it's my turn. 

The lady with the bun who is working at our line pricks my finger with some sort of whirring machinery and then squeezes my finger, a little too hard for my taste, making the blood ooze out onto the pad. 'Bradlee Rhodie' shines across the screen and the lady ushers me on. I obliged and found that Harris, Matthew, and Donovan had already made their way to their spots, Matthew and Donovan to the back and Harris to the twelve year old section up front. Scouring the square, I finally find the 14 year old section and with it a large clump of kids. I stand at the very end of the row and hope and pray, for Harris' sake, that we don't get picked.

(Ophelia Burns POV)

The cool, June breeze whips my strawberry blonde hair across my pale, freckled face. There is an intake of breath heard audibly throughout the square when Hazelle Green, our escort for District Three, steps onto the stage. She wears a hideous blood colored dress with a matching poofy wig. She comes forth to the microphone and taps it lightly, making it echo across the dead silent array of people.

"Welcome, welcome, to the annual Reaping. Shall we get started?" her squeaky voice rings out unpleasantly. I don't really think it's a question. As she doesn't get an answer, Hazelle moves on with the ceremony by reaching her hand into the large glass bowl upon the dull stage. She grazes her hand across many slips before selecting one and bringing it out of the sea of white. She carefully unfolds it, drawing out the suspense, before finally reading the names aloud to the crowd of awaiting District Three citizens. 

"Celeste and Ophelia Burns!" I inwardly groan and move to trudge out of my section, the home of the fourteen year olds. Just our luck, we get selected out of hundreds of siblings to fight to the death. Wonderful, absolutely splendid. Celeste takes a little more time, the Peacekeepers edging forward to retrieve her from the seventeen year old section before she moves quicker, not wanting to be touched by their hands. Celeste, you see, is afraid of germs. Why, I don't know, but she just is. 

I wait for her to come my way and she does, staring her dark irises at the ground the whole way. She reaches me and we complete the rest of the journey to the stage, climbing up the awkwardly large steps and onto the dull stage to our designated spot next to Hazelle. "Welcome! What are you two's names?" she asks as if she didn't already announce them to the whole of District Three. I look at Celeste, as she is the older of us two, but she is dead silent, still staring at the ground. I decided to speak up.

"My name is Ophelia and I'm fourteen. This is my older sister, Celeste, and she's seventeen," I say in what I hope sounds like a bored voice.

"Terrific!" she squeals. She drives her hand into the bowl yet again