Chapter 1
I'm running, I can barely feel the ground beneath my feet, I feel everything. The leaves brushing against my arms, my heart pulsing, my breath coming in short bursts, the ground crumbling away from me feet…and then suddenly I'm flying.
Don't stop running, don't stop running or you'll fall down. Don't stop running or it'll all end, I brush past clouds, their soft fingers stroking my arms. Bliss, freedom, everything I've ever wanted, everything I've ever dream-
"NO!" I wake up from my dream to a high scream coming from below me, the floor boards muffle it a bit but it's easy to tell it must be Mai again, it's her first reaping. At the age of twelve she hardly looks it; short, frail and with big solemn eyes, wisdom yet to enter them in her later years. I blink my eyes open and see the familiar rafters crisscrossed above my head. What was once one scream has turned into cries and sobbing as everyone's terror spreads through the orphanage. First year or not, reaping day is terrifying for us all.
Except me, I have to be brave.
I sit up and walk on the cold, bare wooden boards. I quickly slip on my reaping dress, second-hand of course. Nothing in the orphanage is ever new. I touch the wooden panels on the wall to guide myself to the window in the roof, I heave it open and sunlight pours into the room revealing a wooden bed frame, an old mahogany desk and a wooden chair. Living in District 7 has it perks, we never run out of paper and our furniture lasts forever. I'm the oldest in the orphanage; 17. The eldest gets the 'privilege' to live in the attic. Although it sounds glamourous it really isn't. I get heat in the summers, wind in the autumn, cold in the winter and pollen in the spring. The orphanage building is like an age pyramid, toddlers down the bottom, children on the second floor, teenagers on the third and finally the eldest at the top. Most orphanage-kids leave as soon as they turn 16 to start full-time lumber work or whatever career they choose.
Why did I stay? I'm good with kids. Now there's lots of things I'm not good at, but I can say I have a way with children. Everyone knows it, even Ms Birchwood who is reluctant to give any praise whatsoever. As soon as I turned twelve it was unofficially decided that I was going to run the orphanage one day. It's not the best future, but with my short stature, lumber work isn't in my best interests. Everyone does some part around the district. Because of the age diversity of the orphanage, 2nd floor picks the berries, as soon as we ascend to the 3rd story we start cutting down trees. This makes us all quite adept at climbing trees, berry knowledge and handy with an axe. Although I don't have much strength with my small frame so my skills with an axe stop at cutting down the young trees that haven't hardened yet. Ms Birchwood realised I was hopeless with any hard labour, so now I supervise and help the little ones with the small berry harvest.
I smooth out the faded green dress, it was almost white in each age. I like it that way though, it made the dress individual. The plainness of the dress would be so obvious without the fading out in some parts. The dress goes down to my knees and is cinched slightly at the waist. The green brings out the olive tone of my skin. I look in the mirror; wide almond shaped, dark brown eyes gaze back at me levelly. I brush my dry, thick hair and let it out. My hair is the uncommon shade of black with dark brown in some places from the sun. I have a small blunt nose and red lips that are pulled down at the corners, making me look like I'm in a bad mood all the time.
People seem to always stare at me. Not just because of my strange looks but because of the 'story' of my arrival at district 7. 16 years ago, as a baby, I was found up high in a tree, bawling my eyes out. None of the workers were light enough to climb the old tree, so a child had to fetch me from the tops of the tree. 'A big load of trouble, right from the start.' Ms Birchwood would often say whenever she scolded me. There had been posters everywhere, trying to look for my mother, my father, anyone who would take me in. Nobody came forward of course. I was swaddled in blankets obviously not made in the district. It's strange to know that even though I live in District 7, I don't belong. I don't think I'll ever belong though, I don't know where I was born. I'm not even allowed to see the blanket I was swaddled in. Ms Birchwood burnt it 'got rid of the wretched thing' she told me impatiently when I asked as a child. Nobody would take me in, I was accepted into the orphanage. I've been here ever since, I haven't even been considered for adoption.
Not that it happens very often. Sometimes an old couple will come and adopt someone to look after them in their old age. Sometimes the capitol comes to adopt. But most often representatives of the big lumber industries come to adopt, these kids don't get paid but they get free food and shelter. Anything is better than the orphanage. We commonly have food shortages and most often I give my meals to the younger ones who still need to grow.
I climb down the ladder and help the kids who live on the 3rd floor get ready, most of the boys shrug me off but the girls are happy to let me give them some attention, after I've finished I go to the quivering pile of blankets and coax Mai out in a soft voice.
"Come on, Mai, it's not that bad. You only have 2 slips." One for being twelve and one for tesserae. It's a mandatory rule that we all take tesserae. It's not that bad, none of the orphans have family so it's one extra slip per person. "Mai, if you come out I promise you won't go to the arena." I coax, hoping to God that one of Mai's slips aren't chosen.
I see her little face poke out, framed by bright red hair. "You promise?"
I nod.
"You promise, Beth?"
When she mentions my name I know the promise will have to stand, there's a very small chance that she'll be picked anyway, but I have a sick feeling in my stomach.
"Of course. I wouldn't lie to you Mai." I smile fondly at her young face.
She looks at me and climbs out of the cocoon she made for herself with the woolen blanket. Wordlessly she gets dressed, she doesn't seem to need my help so I go down to the second floor and check on the children floor. None of them are awake yet, they'll only be awakened when they have to. The third floor always wakes up earlier than necessary, one; because they need to look nice and two; because they're terrified and can't sleep.
To save food we never have breakfast on reaping day, nobody feels like eating either way. I give a polite 'Good Morning' to Ms Birchwood who remains emotionless. It's not that Ms Birchwood is cruel, she's strict and fair. She never gives any affection though, probably so she never gets attached. I've always felt that we've got a mutual understanding to do whatever it takes to keep the orphanage running. We exchange words that mean nothing until we hear the orphans thumping down the staircase. First come the children, in their casual clothes with bored looks on their faces, with the occasional child crying for the sake of it being reaping day. Then come the slow steps of the orphans to be put into the reaping, I see Mai's head amongst the crowd and reassure myself that she won't be picked amongst thousands, maybe millions of slips. Ms Birchwood gives a curt nod after looking us all over and leads us to the square.
Boys and Girls all parted ways to the tables where our fingers are pricked and our names written down. A fourteen year old orphan is in front of me standing tall, although her hands are clenched in tight fists. I step forward, give my name and have my blood sample taken. The lady glances up at me and makes a sort of noise when I say my name, I automatically look away and go to the roped area for 17 year olds. There's tension in the air, butterflies in my stomach not just for me but for the orphans. I always feel like I have to protect them. I don't know any of the people around me, I recognise some faces but no names. It wouldn't be any good if I did know them, people stayed away from me. When I was younger I had friends, but gradually they all faded away when they heard my story. By the times I was 9 I had hardly anyone, I couldn't even count them as friends except for one person. People who once were my friends made fun of me. I guess no one else was born outside the fence of the huge district, I was cursed for being different. I stand straight and try not to touch the shoulders of the girls next to me, I look around to the boy's area, looking for a certain familiar face I always look for at the reaping.
That's when I see him. That one person.
He's laughing with his friends in his area, Roger has always had a way with people. No matter how hard I tried to hate him when he left, my heart always skips a beat when I see him. He has brown hair streaked with gold and a clear jawline. He has no faults in his looks, only in his personality. Faults I only know about. His hazel eyes twinkle and they meet mine, he parts his lips and mouths a 'good luck' to me. I quickly look away though, sure that my always pink cheeks have turned red. Roger is strong from the work he does, he has broad shoulders and I often hear girls whispering about him at school. I always yearn for more information about Roger. Yet I know I would never have anything with him.
Roger was an orphan too, we were inseparable. He had no parent to tell him to stay away from me, so we were the best of friends. People would always say we were going to get married, but Roger didn't care, so I didn't care. Roger still had friends, a lot of them. But he would always stand up for me when any of them were bullying me.
And then he was taken in by a young couple, a strange thing that was made stranger. I was almost twelve and he was thirteen. We had grown apart, me with being on the second floor with the kids and him being with the 'adults'. I was out picking berries and when I came back he was gone. I didn't even get to say good bye. No trace of him was left. I thought he would visit, but that hope slowly died when weekend after weekend he didn't show. Even when I saw him around he would always avoid eye contact. He looked happier too, like I was weighing him down before.
I'm called to attention when Athena Avitere calls out to us with her capitol voice. I've missed out on the mayor's speech. Everyone is standing straight, no one is breathing. I clench my hands together to stop them from shaking.
"Ladies first!" Athena says chirpily. She puts her gloved hand into the reaping ball and takes her time choosing a slip. She finally takes a slip and my heart skips a beat. Whoever is on that slip is the person to go into the hunger games. She unfolds it quickly excitedly and reads the name out loud.
"Mai Hopkins!" It takes me awhile to realise who it is, no one uses last names in the orphanage. Then it dawns on me; it's Mai, little Mai, poor twelve year old Mai, Mai who I promised wouldn't go into the games. Mai who has to live, I know Mai wouldn't survive. She has no chance. I have no choice. Mai starts walking to the stage and everyone starts murmuring when they see that Mai is only 12.
"I volunteer!" No one hears me at first, I practically whispered it. "I volunteer!" I say again in a trembling voice. The murmuring gets even louder and I climb up the steps to the stage. I make sure that Mai is escorted safely back to her area. Then I turn towards the whole of District 7.
Be Brave.