Radioactive

Chapter 1- Meet CeCe

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Hi guys! My name is Cerulean Watercress, but you can just call me CeCe. I prefer it.

I'm seventeen and I live in the glorious District 4. Well, it's sometimes glorious. Only when it's nice out. Storms can get pretty bad here, being near the coast and all.

I've been training since age five, just like anyone else around here. The first lesson we had in kindergarten was probably how to wield a sword or something. At least, that's what my dad said it was.

Speaking of family, I should probably explain the deal of that matter. My father is a representative of President Snow. He's one of his closest confidantes. You might not realize it, but there's a representative in every district.

My father just so happens to be one of those people who aren't afraid to share it.

Like, "Look at me, I'm one of the most important citizens in Panem, ha-ha, be jealous of my power."

And the result? My family is filthy rich. We have oodles more money than we really need. Sometimes, when we're visiting the poorer outlying districts, I take a long trip to the market and deliver food to the people who can't afford it. Now, I'm not saying I'm a saint. But it's really the least I could do. You take it for granted that you go to bed with a full stomach every night. Some people don't have that luxury.

Anyways, despite my father being gone all the time, he's the favorite member of my family to me. He knows how to make me laugh and feel better. Whereas my mom…yikes. She's another story. If you want an example, here's how a typical conversation between us goes:

Mom: (from upstairs) Cerulean?

Me: (from in front of the T.V) Yeah, Mom?

Mom: Are you still in front of that wretched television?

Me: Umm…maybe?

Mom: Well, get off of it, then! There are about a million other things you could be doing right now! You could be training, you could be studying, you could be surfing for all I care!

And it goes on and on until I'm out of her skin.

Awesome mother, right?

I really wish I had a sibling, because maybe I wouldn't be so tempted to stay inside. I mean, sure, I have friends, and we go to the beach pretty much every weekend, and Tuesdays and Thursdays after school. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, are, of course, reserved for training. No joke, if you're not at training, your parents have to send in an excused absence note. It's like school. It's mandatory for children ages six to eighteen. There's an optional one- year early start thing, which I did when I was five.

I'm pretty popular in school. All the kids from the richer families such as children of Peacekeepers and the Mayor and political figures make up the clique. It's shallow, I know, but…it's just the way things are. How they've always been. It was that way even when my parents were in school. Sons and daughters of merchants and factory workers and such are the stragglers. Sure, they have a big group too, but they're the quiet ones that never really get into any trouble. My friends, on the other hand, are natural-born fighters. We're bound to protest anything we think is unjust, and then we're willing to fight for it.

Anyways, I have to go. I forgot to mention the reaping's tomorrow, and I'm planning on volunteering. So I should rest up. Bye for now!