*Disclaimer:* I do not own any of the original characters created by Susan Collins that are used in this story.
Chapter One; The Reaping
I wake up in the morning feeling cold as ice. I turn to my sister Lacey, who's sound asleep next to me. We have a four bedroom house, one of the largest in our neighborhood, The Katniss. We're named after the Katniss plant, because it's a dirty root-like plant found in the woods, that isn't very flavorful. Only poor people who can get their hands on it eat it. And we're a poor neighborhood, so it makes sense.
One room is the room for my mom and dad. The other is for all three girls. I'm the oldest being 12, and then there's Lacey, who's eight years old. In the other double bed is Heera and Krissa. Heera is six, and Krissa is four, so she doesn't know much. The bedroom next to ours is the one for all the boys. One bed is dedicated to Turn and Nade. Turn is nine years old, and Nade is five. The other bed is dedicated for Fayero and Eddie. Fayero is, was sixteen, and Eddie is, was 18. Eddie was chosen for the male tribute for District 11 in the 69th Hunger Games, when I was eight. I had the closest bond with Eddie out of all my brothers. But he's gone now. He was the last one killed.
Fayero was chosen for the 72nd Hunger Games when I was 10. He was the first one killed. Now there's just three girls, and two boys. A family of eight quickly went to a family of six. My parents took it really badly, but it seemed like my grandparents, who live in the last bedroom, took it the worst. They never even speak much anymore, except to Krissa and. I think she's they're favorite grandchild. Maybe because she still has hope.
I slowly climb out of the covers, being careful not to wake Lacey, Heera, or Krissa up. For one year, we were okay, because there was no one who could be entered in the Hunger Games. But this year, we're back to normal, because I turned twelve this year. I wish that I didn't turn twelve till later in the year, after the reaping. Then we'd at least have two years. I walk down to the kitchen, where I take out a box of cornflakes and milk. We made the cornflakes ourselves, since we grow crops here.
I grab a spoon, and begin to eat my breakfast in silence. I wish Eddie were still here. He'd come down and comfort me, even though he would be secretly scared himself. He always made me feel better though. "Rue," a hushed voice says. I drop my spoon on the ground, being startled by this voice. "Oh!" I say as I turn around and see Lacey. "Why are you up? You should be asleep." "I had a nightmare," she says. "Oh," I say picking up my spoon and getting another one.
"Why are you up?" Lacey asks back. "I couldn't sleep," I say continuing to eat my cornflakes. "They won't pick you," Lacey says, "you're only one person. Plus it's your first year so-…" "Lacey stop!" I yell at her. I turn around and see a silent tear fall from her eye. "Oh, no." I get up and come over to her. I wipe the tear from her face and take her hands. "I'm sorry Lacey. This is just really scary for me. You're lucky. You won't be entered for four years. You don't have anything to worry about." "I have you to worry about," she says.
I let out a sigh and release one of her hands. I keep a hold of one hand, and lead her upstairs where I put her back to bed. "Get some sleep," I say. I give her a kiss on the forehead and go back downstairs to finish my breakfast. I look at the full bowl of cornflakes. I've only eaten a few, but I'm just not hungry. I know it's bad to waste food, but I just can't eat. So I leave the bowl on the table, for someone else to finish. Upstairs, I can hear my mother waking everyone up.
Well I guess there really wasn't much point of putting Lacey back to bed. I quickly run upstairs into the bathroom, where I open the window and climb out to sit on the roof. Whenever I need to think I come out here. It's just so peaceful and quiet; I can really appreciate the beauty, and completely forget about everything going on. It's like I have my own little world, all to myself. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a mockingjay on the roof. "Ahh, ahhh, ahh, ahhhh," I sing. The mockingjay falls silent, and turns its attention to me. After a moment, it repeats the tune and sings it back. It starts to move closer to me as it does so.
Another mockingjay comes after hearing this noise, and comes on the roof. This time I whistle the tune, and pretty soon all the nearby mockingjays pick this up. This is the tune we use to let each other know that work is over in the fields. More mockingjays all around start to sing this tune, and I know that there must be other people whistling this too.
This is our way of silently reaching out to each other. It's our silent rebellion. The Peacekeepers will never understand that this is a way of communication between us. I whistle again, and the mockingjay who was originally on the roof finally makes his way to me, and climbs upon my hand. "Wish I was like you," I mutter, "free." "Rue!" my mother says. Her voice makes me jump, which startles the mockingjay, and it flies away. I turn around to see my mom by the bathroom window.
"Thanks a lot!" I say. Then I mutter, "you scared it away." "I'm sorry Rue," Mom says, "but it's time to get dressed for the reaping." She reaches out her hand to help me back in, and then she takes me to her room. "I have a special outfit for you today," she says with a smile as she opens up her small closet. "I was just going to wear my white dress with the green clovers," I say. "You can wear that for the next reaping," she says. Yeah. If there's a next reaping for me.
"Or you can wear it to the celebration party tonight," she says in a cheery voice. That is, if I'm able to come to the celebration party tonight. There's a secret thing in District 11, where the families who have members that weren't picked get together and have a party, where as the other two, or sometimes even one family sits back at home and mourns. We were that family twice. We could easily be it a third time.
I don't really know if other districts do it, but it's a tradition here. Mom takes out a beautiful knit red dress from a wooden hanger. It has a circle neckline cut, and an attached black belt with a golden square where the belt loops through. "Wow," I say, "it's beautiful." "Try it on," Mom says with a smile. I take the dress and replace my old pajamas with it. Mom helps me with the belt, and I take a look in the mirror. "Now you're the one who's beautiful," Mom says.
I really do look beautiful, for the first time. The red makes my dark brown eyes pop out, and it makes my chocolate skin glow. I let my dark brownish-black hair flow down, and I suddenly feel pretty. But what does it matter? This isn't a joyful event. "Here," Mom says. She takes out something from a drawer, and puts it around my neck. On my neck, lays a beautiful tiny gold heart, that has a music note inside of it. "I call it, the Mockingjay note," she says. "Like the call. The note's as beautiful as their song." It was true.
There was something about the design of the whole necklace that was just simply gorgeous. The outlined shape of the heart was encrusted with diamonds all around, with the beautiful note just resting inside of the open heart. "It's a good luck charm," my moms says, "it brings you luck." "Thank you," I whisper. Mom crouches down on the ground and gives me a hug. "What if I get picked?" I ask. "You won't," Mom says hopefully. "But you can't assure that." "You're necklace will," she responds. "But what if I do?" I ask again. "Then," my mom says not being able to bare the thought, "be strong.
"Remember you're goals, and don't give up. You could easily win it. But you won't need to, because you aren't getting picked." There's a long pause of silence, and then my mom says, "I love you Rue." "I love you too mom." We walk downstairs to greet the whole family. Lacey is wearing a beautiful thin-strapped white dress, that is frilly at the bottom and blows in the wind. Heera wears a long sleeved, purple dress, Krissa has a pink short sleeved dress on with white swirls, and the boys are dressed very nicely with striped long-sleeved shirts with matching blazers, and their hair is gelled up.
"How cute," I say. "You wook pwetty," Krissa says. "Thank you," I say, "you look pretty too." "Ready to go?" my grandfather asks. We all nod in unison, and begin to walk out. We don't really use cars in District 11, so we always walk or ride bikes to places. Today, we all walk in one line, all holding hands, praying silently. I see my mom whispering something to my father, and he nods and takes everyone to the back. Grandma, Grandpa, Lacey, Heera, Krissa, Nate, Turn, oh Turn. He reminds me a lot of Eddie.
My mom walks me up to a desk where a Peacekeeper stands, grabbing people's fingers and placing them on a metal square. I turn to my mom questioning her, but she just pushes me ahead. We get in line behind everyone else, but when we get to the front, the man starts giving my mom a hard time. "Excuse me ma'am to enter the Hunger Games you must be from age 12-18." "I know," she says, "but you see, my daughter, Rue…" "We could care less about your child's name or your life story," the Peacekeeper says.
How rude. "I know," she says, "but it's her first year, so I just wanted to be by her…" "Calling backup," the Peacekeeper says into some device on his shoulder. Immediately more Peacekeepers come in, and start to grab my mom. "Hey let me go!" she shouts. "Mommy!" I scream, "Mom!" I try to go after her, but one Peacekeeper holds me back and forces my finger down on the plate. "Ouch!" I say waving my finger in the air. It cut me, and took blood. Why do they need it?
The peacekeeper pushes me up to my assigned row for twelve year-olds, and then leaves. This is it. My first reaping. My name could be called. But it also couldn't. I mean, I'm one in millions. District 11 is one of the larger districts, so what are the chances my name would be called? Then again, someone's name has to be called, so I have the same chance that all the other girls do.
Grim Yolando comes up to the stage and taps the microphone to see if it's working. This time, he's wearing a sparkling green tux, and his icy blue hair is gelled up, just like all the other boys in 11. His purple eyes are too bright, and the purple swirls coming from his eyes pop out on his pale skin. "Attention," he says, "is this on? Oh goody!"
"Welcome, to the Seventy-Fourth Annual Hunger Games! And may the odds ever be in your favor! That is, the odds of not getting picked. I mean, this is a HUGE honor! Am I right? Or am I right?" He leaves a pause for people to cheer and clap, but no one does. "Well then, moving on," he says, "heh-heh, awkward…." "Get on with it!" someone yells from the crowd. Before we know it a group of Peacekeepers come and take that man away. "Anyways," Grim says, "as you know, the tradition of the Reapings are to tell our story of why the Hunger Games are held to this very day…." Grim goes on telling the story of how District 13 broke out in rebellion, and the Capitol defeated them. Now District 13 is blown up, and no longer exists.
"We actually have a surprise this year," Grim says, "even though this is not an 'exciting Quarter-Quell,' you may have come to the realization that the population of boys in District 11 are very low, so we don't have an even amount of eligible boys. So this year, any boy is eligible to enter who is under the age of twelve, through eighteen!"
A huge gasp from the crowd comes over, and I know that my family is thinking the same thing I am. Now Turn or Nate could be entered. Along side me. What else could go wrong?
Next he shows the annual video, which of course he always starts tearing up at. I feel something moving under my arm, and turn to see that Lacey has made her way through the crowd. "Lacey," I whisper, "you aren't supposed to be here!" "I know," she says, "but I wanted to wish you good luck. Good luck." "Thanks," I say. I hold her hand and squeeze it tight as we watch the video. A sudden thought occurs to me. This is really happening. After this video, Grim will announce who will be the two tributes who participate in the 74th Annual Hunger Games. That could be me.
I start to have a silent freak out, and all the words of the video become un-clear, and everything around me becomes fuzzy. I feel like I'm going to faint, and in this case, I wish I could to get out of the Reaping. But even then they might still make me participate. I need to calm down. I need to calm down. But I have a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach…..
In Panem, they always called ladies first. "And the lucky tribute is..." Grim says with a smile. But before he even takes that slip of paper out, I know who it is. "Rue Hayrim." A look of panic spreads across my face. I have to wipe it off, for Lacey's sake. In four years she'll have to do this too, and as her older sister I have to set an example.
I release her hand, and slowly walk up the steps in front of the Justice Building of District 11. "Any volunteers?" asks Grim. No one speaks. "And now for the male tribute," Grim moves on flashing his pearly white teeth at the cameras. He makes me sick. "Turn Hayrim!"
Oh no. Not Turn. This just can't be! Grim said that boys under 12 could be entered, but I didn't think someone that age would actually get picked! What are the odds?! "Look at that ladies and gentlemen! Brother and sister as the District 11 Tributes, I present to you..."
"No!" I yell jumping off the stage. I run past the Peacekeepers and grab Turn. They aren't allowed to put me with my brother. I refuse to be the reason of his death. "Um, hello?" Grim says. A Peacekeeper runs after me and teasers me to the ground.
I can't move, I'm still with electricity running through my body. "Any volunteers?" Grim asks again this time for Turn. "I volunteer," a deep voice says in the crowd. I don't know who the volunteer is, my world is going black as I slowly pass out, but whoever it is, just saved my brother's life.
