Jane
I wake up screaming. Today is reaping day, and although I am seventeen, I still wake up scared. But today is different. My twelve-year-old sister, Jasmine, is eligible to go in. But that isn't the worst part. Having a family of seven, just my lot of tesserae is not good enough, so Jasmine had to add her part in, as well, which meant she had eight slips. And that's what my nightmare had been about. Jasmine going in.
"Jane! Are you okay?" My mother asks. I nod, but stray tears slide down my face.
"I'm going out," I say, throwing the blanket off of me. I pass Emily, my fifteen-year-old sister. I had felt this way for her, too, but she is stronger than Jasmine, so I'm not as worried about her. She had tesserae as well, but for some reason, it still doesn't last long enough.
I put my purple jacket on and open the door, breathing in the fresh air. I slip on my shoes and go behind the house. I know there's a hole in the fence close by, as I've been through it a few times. I don't hunt or anything. I just walk around for however much free time I have. Sometimes I'll go to the lake, but it's about an hour's walk each way, so I don't go much. I crawl under the hole and run out, making sure no one is following me. When I'm safe in the forest, I calm down and clear my mind, just thinking about what might happen today. Even though it's disturbing, I have to let my emotions out, and this is the only way.
So, today, there's a high chance either me or one of my sisters will go into the Games. I have 48 slips, Emily has 24, and Jasmine has 8. That means there's 80 slips with a last name of Waterfern on them. 80. That is a high chance. I let out a sigh and try clearing out my mind, but a whizzing sound breaks my thoughts. I immediately get up from a sitting position and onto my knees, my arms in front of me to keep me up. Just as I expected. It's a hovercraft. The reaping would be starting soon. I let out a sigh and begin my trek back home.
When I get back, everyone is awake. Jasmine comes up and hugs me. I pick her up and squeeze her, trying not to let tears spill.
"There's a bath ready for you, and your clothes are on the bed,: my mom explains. I give a slight nod, and walk over into the bath room. When I get done bathing, I walk across the hall and into my room. I look at the dress, and recognize it as one of my mother's old ones. I let my fingers glide across it, enjoying the silky feeling. I turn around to see my mother standing in the doorway.
"Are you sure? I ask her, and she answers my question with a nod. I slide it on, and it falls down, covering my feet.
"Here, let me help," she says, grabbing some pins and bows as she walks over. Using her supplies, she pins up my dress so it doesn't drag on the ground. I look in the mirror and admire the dress.
"You look beautiful," someone says. At first, I think it's my mom. But then I realize it was a little girl's voice. I turn to see Jasmine standing in the doorway, wearing a light blue dress that covers her arms and reaches down to her feet, but doesn't cover them. Her hair is in a braid, and she's wearing a blue headband.
"Not as pretty as you," I say.
"I think it's a toss up," Emily says, walking into the room. She's wearing a bright yellow dress with flowers patterned across it. Her hair is up in a bun, and she's wearing small earring in the shape of flowers.
"Where'd you get those?" I ask her, pointing to the earrings.
"They're from me, from when I was in the apothecary," Mom explains. "They're the only pair I have." Our conversation stops at the sound of bells chiming. One hour before the reaping.
"We should probably get going," I say. "The reaping's going to start soon. We don't want the alternative of not going." I grab Jasmine's hand and walk out of the room. Parker and Gary see us leaving and immediately stand up, ready to go. Parker's 10, and Gary's 7, so they still have a few years before they have to worry about going in. In fact, they still don't see anything wrong with the reaping. It may be different for Parker this year, but I know Gary will still have that immature mind. I wish I could be as carefree as them, but I know that these Games are to be taken seriously, and here in 12, often a tribute doesn't live long.
We reach the square around 1:30. It's too bad that the reapings are held here, since this is where most other holidays are held, and it's always though of as a cheerful place. And people still try making it look cheerful by putting big banners around that read "Happy Hunger Games!" But everyone 12 and older knows that these times are not cheerful. This is the punishment for what happened one hundred years ago. The Capitol had been ruling over thirteen districts, and everything was perfect. But the districts wanted independency, so they started a rebellion, and tried attacking the Capitol. However, the Capitol won, subsequently killing off District 13, and, as punishment, formed the Hunger Games, where one boy and girl from each district had to go into a fight to the death. Twenty-five years ago, one of the victors from the 74th Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen, had sparked a rebellion, and became the Mockingjay after the Quarter Quell the following year. However, the rebellion also failed, and all those part of the rebellion were killed. Now, the Games continued on, and anyone who wanted to spark a rebellion would die on the spot. Usually only the tributes were brave enough to do that, so they were killed during the Games. But there were a few, like my friend Peter, who would try starting a rebellion, and as soon as the Capitol found out, they would do whatever they had to to stop a rebellion from forming. With Peter, he had been fond poaching, and a fire squad came in and killed him. What most people didn't know was that the only reason why the fire squad had been there was because the Capitol had found out about his rebellious nature. They sometimes show replays of previous rebellions, and what they do to rebellious individuals, and when they do that, they'll show Peter, and tears stream down my face every time.
I am brought back into reality at the sound of a cry. It's Jasmine. We're close to registering, and she sees the blood of everyone else being put onto a paper.
"Hey, it's okay. It's just a little poke, and the pain only lasts a few seconds. Okay?" I say.
"Alright," she says, trying to calm down.
"There's a good girl," I tell her, wiping tears from her face. We walk up to the counter, with Jasmine first. She goes through the process, not really bothered by it, and then walks off to get into her spot. I walk over to the counter, they register me in, and then dismiss me. I walk up to the front where the seventeen-year-olds are. I never understood why the taller teens were in front, while the smaller ones had to stand behind us. Maybe it was to keep them calm, or maybe it was just poor planning. I shrugged and waited for the reaping to start.
"What were you shrugging about?" A girl asks. I turn to see it's a blond-haired girl, and she's wearing a short blue dress.
"Hi, Linda," I greet my friend. "I was just trying to figure out why the tall people were in front of the short ones."
"Oh, yeah. That never makes any sense," Linda answers. "You excited about this year? It is the Quarter Quell, after all." The Quarter Quell. I had completely forgot about that. "What's the change?" I ask her.
"I don't know. I missed it," Linda admits.
"Yeah, I missed it, too. Luckily they always repeat it," I say. Before either of us can say anything else, our mayor, James Turnhill, is standing at the podium, ready to begin.
"Welcome, all, to the 100th Hunger Games, and the fourth Quarter Quell," he begins. "For those of you who missed it, the Quarter Quell this year is much like the second Quarter Quell, but with an added twist. Many of you elderly will remember that it was during the second Quarter Quell that one of our former victors, Haymitch Abernathy, won. For you younger ones, the Quarter Quell twist was that there were double the tributes. This year, it's double the tributes, but the extra girl and boy from each district will be a relative of the first girl or boy." In case no one got the point, he gives an example. "Say, for the girls, you were chosen. Well, the extra tribute would be someone related to you, whether it be a sister, a cousin, and so forth." I then realize that, if Emily or I am chosen, Jasmine has a 50/50 chance to have to go in. "Also, there's no volunteering this year," Mayor Turnhill adds, and my heart skips a beat. No volunteering? That meant if Jasmine was chosen, she had no save. Mayor Turnhill begins talking about the treaties, the rebellions, and the rules, but I'm not listening. I'm too focused on what will happen to Jasmine. The poor girl would be defenseless. I make a mental note to help her in training if that's what it has to be. The mayor finishes speaking, and our escort, Felicia Pompernickle, takes over.
"Happy Hunger Games!" She exclaims. "And may the odds be ever in your favor. Remember, there is no volunteering this year. As always, ladies first." She walks over to the bowl on the left side of the stage and picks one out. She opens the slip up, and I can faintly see two lines: the name of the two female tributes. "Jane and Jasmine Waterfern." And at those two names, I lose consciousness, only being held up by Linda.
Amelia
I pace back and forth in the bedroom, twiddling my fingers. I had heard the announcement last night, and worried about Melinda, my best friend. She was a girl in a wheelchair, and she had a little sister, Abby, who had twisted her ankle when she was very young, and it never healed. If they got thrown in, they would be extremely vulnerable.
My thoughts break up as someone grabs my arm and nearly makes me trip. It's my sister, Rebecca.
"What are you so worried about, Amy?" She asks. "We can totally take on anyone if we get picked! Or do you think you'll die because you're blind?"
"Rebecca!" Mom scolds. "You know she doesn't like being criticized about her blindness." It was true. Just because I was blind didn't mean that I couldn't do things.
"Sorry," my sister mutters. I walk over to the closet and fling open the doors to it. I slowly brush my fingers against all the dresses, trying to find one that I liked. If I found one that interested me, I would reach down to see how long it was. Most of them were either too small or too big. But, just before I was finished going through all of them, I find one with flowers on it. I reach down and realize it is just about my size. I pull it out and spin around with it. It reaches down just past my knees. I slip it on and enjoy the flowers on the straps, and the thin material covering my shoulders.
"Come on, girls! We don't want to be late!" My mother chimes, and I follow her out the door, with Rebecca right behind me. Even though she was older than me, she always acted like she was the boss. My only guess as to why she would do that is because I'm blind, and she thinks I'm helpless. I roll my eyes at the thought, but continue walking.
"We reach the square at a reasonable time and I stand next to Melinda in the roped area.
"Hey. You nervous?" She asks me.
"Yes," I answer simply.
"Don't be. This is your fourth year, right?" The disabled girl asks.
"Yeah. But this year is different. This year's the Quarter Quell. Did you hear the announcement last night?" I ask her.
"Only the twist. I ignored the rest of it," Melinda answers.
"Yeah, well that's the part that worries me. And I'm not worried about myself. I'm worried about you." I admit.
"Me? Why me?"
"Because, with the twist, two girls that are close and two boys that are close get thrown in. What if it's you and Abby? I don't think I could handle watching you both in there," I confess.
"Hey. It'll be alright. If we get chosen, we'll make it through," Melinda said. "I promise."
"Yeah. Only one problem with that: out of all those people, still only one person comes out." That must have been shocking news to Melinda, because she pulls her hand away from my arm, and I hear a faint sound come from her, as if she was about to say something, but then the mayor starts talking. He goes through the normal, boring stuff, and what the twist is, and that there's no volunteering. I had forgotten about the volunteering factor. Then our escort, Tom Humberg, walks up.
"Welcome, all!" He says. "And happy Hunger Games! Now as is my rule, we'll do men first." I hear him walk over to one side of the stage, the papers shuffling, then his shoes clomping across the stage as he walks back over to the podium. He reads off two names that I don't recognize, and then walks over to the girls' bowl. Oh, please don't let it be Melinda or Abby! I think. And it's not. It's Amelia and Rebecca Fernland.
A/N: Alright. This chapter introduces the two main characters of this story, which I'll be going back and forth with. I don't know if I'll have any other characters' POVs, but these two will definitely be in every chapter. Okay. So a little bit about Jane and Jasmine: I just wanted to mention that I got their descriptions based on Disney movies (Jane - Peter Pan: Return to Neverland, Jasmine: - Aladdin). I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please comment and leave some feedback (I.e. what could be changed, what I should do, who you think should win, etc.)
