Long black hair, tied back to keep curls from bright green eyes. Small, pale hands write slowly along the page, longhand cursive beautiful to read. A crack is heard as a graceful neck is popped, and a small sigh emits from thin lips. Life is in a sharp perspective, for me, as always. I put my pen down quietly, before standing, smoothing the wrinkles in my black skirt. Reaping day is usually a day off of work, but it had to be done. Now that the paperwork is filled, the new shipment of lumber can leave the district tomorrow. Locking the office door behind me, I give a glance to the sky above, and smile slightly. 'In a few hours, I won't have to worry again until next year,' I think wistfully, before repressing the thought.
"Birdy!" A shout calls, and I turn, only to be ambushed by a mass of red curls. Then, brunette. And finally blonde wavy locks push me all the way to the pavement. I ignore the pounding in my head and smile at the giggling children.
"Well, now, that wasn't nice!" I exclaim, moving my hands in an extreme gesture. The girls just laugh harder as I push them to the side and stand. I help up each girl, before a realization hits me; a head is missing. "Girls, where is Mekina?" The fourth of the friends is not present, which is unheard of.
The blonde frowns. "I don't know. She was upset earlier, right, Rosie?"
Rosie, brunette curls flopping as she shakes her head, answers, "She's upset about reaping. She turned twelve last month."
Silence rings for a moment. I have to keep myself in check; this would be the first year any of these girls could be put into the Games. 'There's really no odds, though,' my brain reminds me, and I put on a smile. "Well, let's go cheer her up, shall we, ladies?" This is met enthusiastically, and Amber, the red head, leads the way to the house where she and Mekina reside.
Passing through the house, Amber leads her friends down a small hall and stops outside a pink door. "Mennie! Lighi and Rosie and Birdy are here to see you!" The six year old continues to pound on the door, until a tall, tan girl with red straight hair peeks out the door. She is still in pajamas, and looks like she has been crying. I frown, not really liking how upset the young girl seems.
"Mekina? What's wrong?" I ask as the other three girls back away slowly. They know better than to get in the way of an upset Mekina. The red head opens her door a bit more, and childishly holds up her arms for a hug. Seeing as this twelve year old is six inches taller than me, I have to reach up to give her a squeeze. Mekina begins to sob, her whole body shaking as the girl rocks in my embrace.
"I don't want to die!" She calls into my hair. "I can't go into the Games! I'll die! And Braisdon will never know I like him!" She goes on like this for a while, and I stroke the red mass, comforting her slowly but surely. After a bit, Mekina is somewhat tame, still sputtering but rational.
"Look, sweetie, this is your first reaping. Everyone gets scared."
"Even you?" Wide brown eyes met her green.
"Even me. But think of it in a way you understand. Mathematically?" Mekina brightens at this, as she is the top of her class in math. Whenever someone wants her attention, they just mention it. "You have your name in the pool once. If there are two thousand girls between the ages of twelve and eighteen, what are your chances of getting your name pulled?"
The girl pouts. "I would need exact ages, because it's multiplied, right? And what about tessera? There's too many variables, Birdy." She crosses her arms in irritation.
"And all those variables make your chances even slimmer, don't they?" The girl considers this. "Look, darling, I doubt you'll be pulled. And if you are, we'll deal with that when it comes. What if this is your last free day? Do you want to spend it moping?"
She contemplates. "No."
"Good. Now, get dressed and go play with the girls before the ceremony begins." Mekina cracks a smile, and begins to pick out a suitable outfit.
With a hop in my step, I head down the lane to the main plaza, taking in the new appearance. Usually run by happy children and merchants selling to towns people, the square is fairly empty. On the small stage are a few ant-like capitols, getting ready for the reaping later in the day. Mendall Hulperch is standing dead center, mumbling gibberish into the microphone, presumably for a 'mic check'. I smile politely to anyone who meets my eye, and make my way into the bakery.
The teen behind the counter is covered in flour, making me laugh. I can't help it, seeing the bulky guy completely cloaked. The boy pouts.
"Hey, don't laugh at what you don't understand," the blonde glowers, picking up a rag and starting to wipe the white off his tanned face.
"And what do I not understand, Braisdon?" I chuckle, dropping my eyes to take in the nice looking rolls on display.
"The fact that I was making those rolls you're eyeballing, and wanted to get a few out warm for you, so when I opened the bag funny and got this all over me," he gestures to his half-cleaned face, "I ignored the need to take a shower. All for you. I'm deeply insulted that you're still laughing, Birdy!"
I am indeed still laughing, but I take the rag and finish the job to reveal a handsome nineteen year old man with blue eyes and blond floppy hair. "I heard something interesting today, about you."
Braisdon lights up at this, forgetting the flour incident. "Yeah?"
"It seems little Mekina has a soft spot for you," I answer, throwing the rag into a trash can I knows sits beside the register.
The boy grins. "The little munchkin think's I'm hot, huh?"
"That little girl doesn't know what hot is yet. But, I have to say, her taste in men is horrible."
"Hey!"
"Hey yourself, dummy. Why is your shirt all white?" Another voice asks, and I turn to see a friend walk in, her brunette hair swishing as she walks. Braisdon immediately stands up a bit straighter, wanting to look good for his girlfriend.
"Ask Birdy. It's her fault." He kisses her cheek.
"How in hell is that my fault?"
"I was making the rolls for you."
The girl with brunette hair gives him a mock glare. "I don't get any rolls?"
Braisdon rolls his eyes. "Duh. But I remembered that I owe her for patching me up after I burned my hand." He held up his left, covered in bandages. "So I wanted them to be warm and down when she got here."
The girl seems satisfied with this, and just ruffles his hair. "So, what are you wearing to the reaping, Bird?" She asks.
"Hanniad, always the fashionista. I swear, you were born in the capitol." Braisdon rolls his eyes and leaves us girls in peace, disappearing into the kitchen. Hanniad just gives me a look.
"This?" I question, poking at my blouse and skirt combo.
"No. Wear the lilac button-up and the leather leggings that I gave you a few years ago."
I grin. "Yes ma'am." I have to giggle at the evil glare Hanniad gives me, but is spared a clothing lecture when Braisdon comes back with bag and a picnic basket.
"Here's your damned rolls, Birdy. Now, get out. I'm spending the day with my beautiful, awesome, amazing girlfriend." He bats his lashes at the girl in question.
"But you still won't get laid."
Braisdon groans. "Fine. We'll just have a nice, romantic day. With no sex."
We just laugh.
Bidding my friends goodbye, I begin the trek home. I take the way through the woods, because no one works today, and all the machine would be shut down. I could use a bit of exercise, anyway. Climbing a tree, I shoot off, bouncing from one branch to another, almost flying through the forest at high speeds. When combining my skills of climbing and running among the treetops, the nickname 'Birdy' fits perfectly. A wide grin never leaves my face, as the forest is my favorite place to be. The colors flash around me, and too soon, I find myself on the other side of the wood, in my own yard.
Upon entrance to the house, I find a mess. I shake my head with a little smile. What else should I expect from a house full of boys? I put a few things away, places the rolls on the end table, and begin to search for one of my five brothers. However, just my father appears to be home.
"Hey dad, where's everyone?" I inquire, sitting beside him in the kitchen. He smiles down at me, his only daughter.
"Cartern told me they'd be out doing boy things. They promised not to get their clothes dirty and to be at the plaza before the ceremony starts." The man is big, probably two hundred thirty pounds and six foot. Like all of his children, he has unruly black hair and pale-ish skin. However, he has hazel eyes, like the rest of the boys. I alone inherited her mother's green irises.
"All of them?"
"All of them. I trust them. Sort of." We share a smile. The Reynolds family is a large one. Cartern, Curlef, Ceen, Crash, and Colt are all eleven and younger, but older than seven. Boys being boys, they are wild and hyper, but can be calmed with music.
"Well, I hope they keep to their word, or you and I will be in a world of trouble." I smile at my father, and we make small talk for a while. Eventually, though, I go to take a cold shower- we don't have running hot water and I've taken too much time to heat some over the stove- and puts on the purple dress and black leggings I was told to wear. Instead of waiting for my curls to dry, I just tie it back into it's original ponytail, and put my white sneakers back on. Then I go with my father to the square.
After a prick of blood and a moment of confusion on where the other sixteen year old girl are, I find myself in my section, scanning the plaza for others I know should be here by now. There's Mekina, trying to looks strong in her pretty pink dress, and Hanniad is talking with Braisdon over the rope of her corral. Cartern and Crash, the twins of the family, are twisting through the crowd towards father, who has met up with Ceen already. Lighi stands with her family, as does Rosie and Amber, though the latter keeps darting her young eyes toward her sister. Curlef is bothering a boy I don't know in the fourteen section. Before I can wonder where my last brother is, I turn my head and find him at the edge of my section, trying to get my attention. I make my way over.
"Birdy, hey," Colt huffs as I stand beside him. "Thought you'd never see me."
"Hi, buddy. Why aren't you with dad?"
"Just thought I'd wish you luck. And," he adopts a ridiculous accent, "may the odds be ever in your favor!" He snickers, and we hug, before Colt works his way over to our brothers.
Mendall Hulperch is suddenly demanding the attention of District 7, and we give it to him, the plaza going nearly silent. He give a welcoming speech, one that I mostly ignore. It's the same every year, and even though the video is different, I am pretty sure it's just reiterating what he's just said. They introduce Johanna Mason, a strong woman with dark hair and a superior look about her, and Blight a taller man who seems fairly quiet. The two are the most recent victors of our district, and will mentor our tributes this year. Of course, it's not like we've never seen these people, most of us have met them in person, but Mendall still feels the need to remind us who they are.
"Now, time to pick the victors. Let's start with the ladies, hmm?" His bright aqua afro jiggles as he walks slowly over to glass bowl, full of little slips of paper, one of them about to be matched to a Games tribute. I don't like to be morbid, but this person will probably… die.
Today has been a happy day, mostly because since I woke up, I've been repressing what today actually means. Twenty four children are being sent to their death today. Two of them will be from my district, people I know, people I live with and talk to all the time. Today should be a horrible, mourning day. What is Mekina really does get pulled? Or Hannaid?
Mendall has a piece of paper between his thin fingers now. He reads it carefully, and then stares out at us. Irritation and fear is welling up in me. What in the world is he waiting for?"
"Cathrine Reynolds."
'Thank god,' I think, relishing in the fact that this is not my friend or the little girl who I adore. It takes me a moment to realize that no one is moving, no one is going to claim the paper. Why? Then it hits me. Why everything is so silent. No one has said that name in so long, I hadn't even recognized it…
Cathrine is my name. I'm Cathrine Reynolds, and I'm the female tribute for District 7.
A/N; … Don't kill me. I know, I haven't updated anything in a million years, and now I'm starting something new. You have permission to kill me. But then you'll never know what happens in this story, which is half written! That's more than usual… Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little beginning and review to make me better.
Pronunciations of names:
Birdy- Burr-dee.
Mekina- Meh-kee-na.
Rosie- Rose-ee.
Amber- Ahh-mm-burr.
Lighi- Lee-hee.
Mendall Hulperch- Men-dell Hall-purr-ch.
Braisdon- Bruh-ace-done.
Hanniad- Hand-aide.
Cartern- Car-teern.
Curlef- Curr-leaf.
Ceen- Keen.
Crash- Like it sounds, I guess.
Colt- Kolt.
Cathrine- Cath-reen.
Yeah, there yeah go.
