When The Canary Sings

May The Odds Be Ever In Your Favor!

Limited 3rd Person-Katniss Everdeen:

The air was hot and muggy and the sun beat down on District 12 with the power of a million fire bombs. There were no clouds in the sky to cover the sun, so District 12 was left boiling and sweating.

Katniss returned to her home in the Seam and found her mother washing a dress and Prim outside washing her goat. The house was full of nothing. Silence hung in the air, but so did the heat.

"The reaping starts at two." Katniss heard her mother say, "I drew you a bath, but make it fast." Katniss didn't respond, just walked to her home's bathroom, stripped, and sunk into the tub of lukewarm water. The water did nothing to cool her, but nothing to heat her up, which was good.

Fifteen minutes after Katniss had risen from her bath, she left her home and met with Gale. The two walked to the square together.

"How many times is your name in?" Katniss asked, passing the Peacekeepers who lined the streets in their prestigious white uniforms.

"I don't know," Gale mumbled, "I think thirty six, but I don't know." He said, wiping the sweat from his brow, then looking down at Katniss.

"You must be relieved, next year and then it's all over," Katniss paused, "after next year, you won't have to worry about the reaping anymore."

"Not really," Gale sighed, looking at his feet. "I still have to worry about my siblings. They'll be old enough soon."

"Next year," Katniss said, "next year I'll have to worry about Prim, I don't know what I'd do if she was picked from that bowl." Katniss kept her head forward, after she said that, her and Gale didn't say anything else to each other. They just walked in comfortable silence until they reached the check-ins. They both filed into lines where they got their finger's pricked, and their blood was smeared on paper like the blood was smeared on swords in the arena.

Once Katniss had her finger pricked, she stepped aside and waited for Gale. Once he finished, he pulled her into a hug.

"May the odds be ever in your favor," he whispered with a cheeky smile, mocking a Capitol accent as he did it.

"May the odds be ever in your favor." Katniss repeated, then pulling away from the hug and walking to the section of girls she usually stood in. The Justice Hall that is usually filled with the buzz of vendors trying to sell measly goods was silent with the anticipation of what children will be murdered this year.

Fifteen minutes after Katniss had found her place in the crowd, the mayor and his wife walked out on stage with a very noticeably drunk Haymitch Albernathy. The mayor gave a quick speech, and then the infamous Effie Trinket waddled out onstage in her high heels. She wore a lavish lavender blazer and a tight lavender skirt that reached her knees to match. Her hair was done up, and it would look almost like a beehive if it wasn't a matching shade of purple.

"Welcome, welcome, welcome!" Effie cheered, "and happy Hunger Games to you all!" She bubbled, brightly, only to be met with silence from the crowd. "Now, before we get started, we have a very special message for you all, brought to you all the way from the Capitol!" She chirped as the video started rolling, flashing images of skulls, bombs and widows and orphans.

"This is how we remember our past, and how we safeguard our future." The voice on the video said, ending the video.

"Amazing! Isn't it?" Effie said, giggling like a little girl to herself, "Now the time has come to choose our brave tributes to represent District 12 in the Seventy-Third Annual Hunger Games!" Effie announced, talking off a glove and walking over to what looked like a large fish bowl filled with paper. "As usual, ladies first!"

Effie plunged her hand into the bow, swirled it around, and then picked a small white card from the very bottom of the bowl. She walked back to the mic, the only sound was her heels clicking and clacking on the ground, and the sound of the paper being ripped.

"Becca Blue!" Effie called, a boy ahead of Katniss seemed to flinch at the name, then looked around worriedly. He had a head of blonde curls, that's it.

Katniss craned her neck to see who stepped forward.

The girl who stepped forward was tiny, maybe thirteen years old, barely older than Prim. She had long wavy red hair and pasty skin like Prim's. She walked herself up calm and collected, no tears, no screaming, just the small pitter patter of her steps. Her back was straight, and her arms were at her side. It was like she was performing for an audience and strutting up a runway like they see all the Capitol models do. She wore a simple white tank top that had three buttons down the chest, and a long skirt that was sage green.

Katniss recognized her as the girl who sang in the Hob, and as the knick-knack girl. Her and her grandmother sold homemade sweets in the hob. Her stand was always next to Greasy Sae's, because her grandmother and Sae were close friends. When her grandmother ran the stand, she cost close to nothing, but still something, for a bag of five sweets. On days her grandmother couldn't stand to rise out of bed, Becca would run the stand. 

On days Becca would run the stand, all the sweets cost was a pretty rock or a small trinket.

Katniss always made sure she gathered shiny rocks from the streams or the rivers for Becca so she could trade and get sweets for Prim.

Most people knew Becca because she also performed shows in the hob, she sang and danced for hours at night, mostly on the weekends. She never charged for admission tickets, but she did have a basket at the head of her makeshift stage for tips. The crowds were always big, miners after their shifts would meet their wives and dance the night away, teens would bring dates and forget about the possibility of being reaped.

Just before Becca made it to the stage, a boy from the crowd lunged at her, knocking her to the floor with a swift punch to the face. The crowd gasped. Becca stood back up and pushed the boy to the ground and pounced on top of him. She managed to get a few hits in before she was dragged to the stage.

As she got to the stage, a voice rang from the crowd. "That's what girls like you get, Becca Blue!" They yelled, the crowd opened up a bit to reveal the speaker. He was a young boy, maybe two years older than Becca. "You can't be no traitor and not expect karma to come chasin' after yer' tail!" He screamed, now storming to the stage.

"You go get a life, Ryder Joe!" She sneered, stomping her foot. "I ain't got no time for you no more!"

"I only got one bet on you! I bet a year's salary, you'll be dead in the first five!" He yelled, "and then I'll take those damn stompin' boots right off your dead feet!" He yelled, starting to run towards the stage, but Peacekeepers peeled him off and dragged him away.

Once again, Twelve would be the laughing stock of Panem. 

A beat of silence passed before an appalled Effie began speaking again. "Now for the boys," Effie stuttered, trying to collect herself. She walked over to the boys bowl and pulled out a name. "Picker Sparks!" Effie called, and giggled to herself at the name.

The boy who stepped out of the crowd looked like a career himself. He was tall, and pretty well-built, but had a young looking face. His hair was a jet-black and floppy. His skin was olive, and his eyes were a deep brown. He was a seam kid, Katniss recognized him, but couldn't put a story to his face.He wore clean brown trousers with a white button-down shirt, and a red bandana tied around his neck. Like the girl before him, he walked up to the stage with no fight.

"Come, come," Effie called to the boy like he was a dog, once he was onstage, she leaned into the mic once again. "Now, what are your names, and how old?" She asked the two.

"Picker Sparks, 18.'' The boy said plainly, his voice was deep.

"Becca Blue, just turned 13." The girl said after him, giving the crowd a small courtesy. She stuck out her hand and shook his.

"Well then! District 12, how about a round of applause for your tributes!" Effie sung, only to be met with silence.