The golden fronds waved as a warm breeze blew through the fields Jayden Solgen was working. The slight girl sighed, resting on the butt of her sickle for a moment, wiping the sweat off her brow. District 9 painted a beautiful picture, but when the burning sun beats down every moment of the day, a Panem citizen could really get sick of the picturesque scene.
The breeze that brought mild relief also carried the crack of a whip, followed by an agonized scream. Jayden froze, as the sound brought her back four years. Jayden had not had an easy childhood; but luckily, or unluckily, however you looked at it, it had been incredibly short – almost nonexistent, as was custom in the lower districts.
Jayden was born in District 9 to loving parents and a perfect role model older brother. At age 6, her older brother, Jon, died in a horrible threshing accident, turned into mulch in the new corn. At that time, her younger sister was not yet born. Jayden cried for a month, and her mother rocked her to sleep every night, singing to her, and making her extra food to appease the little girl.
Two and a half years later, Jayden's sister Jellika was born. At age 9, Jayden's father died being whipped at the post after trying to steal cow's milk for Jayden's little sister, since Jayden's mother's milk had dried up too early from malnutrition. Jayden and her mother were forced to watch. Jayden cried, but only for a week this time around.
After that, her mother had no money to send Jayden to school and feed her family, so Jayden was taken out of school to work the fields. This stunted her growth, keeping her shorter than all her better off peers. Every day in the fields, which were close to the whipping post, Jayden had to see another one of her townspeople whipped as punishment for trying to stay alive, or trying to keep their families alive.
Slowly, the whippings had stopped affecting Jayden. Jayden worked as hard as she could to feed her little baby sister, who was the little bundle of joy she came home to every day. As soon as Jayden could, she began taking out tesserae, lots and lots of tesserae, so that her sister could keep growing and continue to go to school.
This year, Jellika was old enough to grasp the concept of the Hunger Games, and had incessantly asked Jayden about the Games. It broke Jayden's heart to see her little Jellybean look up at Jayden with huge eyes, and ask Jayden to promise to never leave her for the Games.
Six tesserae. That's all she'd taken out these years she'd been eligible for tesserae. Truthfully, Jayden was thankful for the tesserae system – it meant that she could feed her sister and save money from work, when her family really needed it. It was the Peacekeepers she hated. The Peacekeepers, who had killed her father. The Peacekeepers, who had kept the entire district in their palms cowering in fear. The Peacekeepers, who hid behind their batons. The Peacekeepers, who kept her and her family from being as happy and as whole as it could be.
That night, Jayden came home to the smell of baking bread. Even though grains were more common in District 9, and therefore the citizens had more to eat, Jayden couldn't get over her mother's freshly baked bread, which was still her absolute favorite. But seeing at her mother's face, and seeing the batch of new bread sitting on the table, Jayden knew something was wrong.
"Ma," Jayden stumbled forward, heart clenching as she thought of her Jellybean, "Who?"
At the sound of soft footsteps padding over, Jayden's knees suddenly grew weak, and Jayden had to grab the table edge to keep herself steady.
"Jelly," she whispered, not even turning her head. With one swoop, Jayden grabbed her little plump sister and squeezed her eyes shut, breathing in the baby-smell of her hair.
Opening her eyes again, Jayden looked cautiously at her mother, who had stepped closer to her two daughters. "It's Rinn," her mother named a close friend of hers. "She only wanted fresh fruit, and they'd just had a new shipment. Rinn didn't think they'd miss any, but the Peacekeepers were bored, I suppose. They caught her."
Remembering the screams from earlier, Jayden covered Jellika's ears gently. "She didn't make it," Jayden's mother whispered, voice cracking.
Jayden closed her eyes to take refuge in the darkness. A few deep breaths later, she sat down at the table, setting Jellika down next to her. Their mother took a seat across from them, and offered the girls a roll. Jayden broke a piece off automatically, and fed it to Jellika, who took it happily and began chewing.
It only took a few minutes for Jellika to realize that her older sister wasn't eating at all. Jellika leaned against Jayden, and clambered up, kissing her sister on the cheek, then took her own piece of bread to put into her older sister's mouth. The sweet little girl brought out a smile on Jayden's face, and Jayden shook her head at the kindness the little girl showed. Jayden took the piece of bread, and looked across the table. Their mother's tears had stopped, and in the cool shelter of their home, nothing seemed to be wrong with the world.
A week later, bread was on the table again. But this time, Jayden knew why her favorite treat was back. It was the same reason that she actually kind of enjoyed work today, savoring it, knowing it might be her last.
Tomorrow was the day of the Reaping.
At the dinner table, Jellika sat in Jayden's lap, sucking her thumb. Jayden had tried to get her little sister to kick this nervous habit, but her Jelly always reverted back to thumb sucking for comfort.
"Jay-en," Jellika lisped, through the thumb in her mouth, "It's a big day tomorrow, promise you don't leave? Promise you stay."
Jayden spun her sister around on her lap. She looked her sister in the eye, and told her, "I will always protect you. I will always be here for you. You, you never need to worry. Ever."
Jellika was appeased, but Jayden nowhere near as calm as she'd made her sister think she was. That night, the potential tribute didn't sleep very well at all. Jayden tossed and turned, senses heightened to be aware of every sensation, every sight, knowing full well it could be one of her last. Though she was exhausted from the day's work, Jayden couldn't fall into the deep, obliterating sleep she desperately craved.
The moon shone dimly through her shades, casting a soft glow on her sheets. Hopping out of bed, she flung aside the coarse fabric, the very existence of which marked her and her family as better off than perhaps half the population of the district. The stars swirled at what seemed to be a faster pace than usual, and soon, the sky was tinged with hues of purples and pinks, into light blues.
When the birds started their song, Jayden decided it was time to officially "wake up." Lacing up her worn out boots, she headed outside to complete her chores for the day, knowing her mother wouldn't be able to finish them all if Jayden had to…leave.
She swept the kitchen floor, and cleaned out their fire from last night. An hour later, she left the house to make rounds in the market and buy their groceries for that day. There were always plenty of coarse grains that could be bought at a cheap price, but Jayden had an understanding with the owner of the farm that she worked on, who allowed Jayden to take some of what she reaped home to feed her family.
Being early to the market always ensured a few good deals, as the merchants had little to no customers and more time to haggle. Jayden picked up an eggplant, a stalk of slightly withered celery, and a small pumpkin to take home, and arrived back at her door just in time for breakfast - barley soup that Jellika gulped down as soon as it was placed in front of her, but that Jayden couldn't even bring herself to look at.
After breakfast, Jayden's mother sat behind her daughter in front of the one mirror in their house, a relic of the old days from when both Jayden's father and her older brother had been alive, and they could afford such luxuries. Brushing out Jayden's loosely curled hair took a while, and was a rather painful process, but the silky smooth outcome was worth the pain. Jayden's mother brushed for a while longer than was necessary, and both mother and daughter sat as if in a trance, savoring these peaceful moments together.
Jayden quickly slipped into the dark purple dress one size too small that she'd worn for every Reaping since the first. The color, frankly, clashed with her dark red hair, but it had been all that they could afford. The finishing touch was a glass bead necklace that shone like crystals against Jayden's tanned skin, her token if she were ever Reaped. It had been her parents' tenth anniversary gift from Jayden's late grandmother to her mother.
One brief hug from her mother later, and Jayden and her family were out the door.
Coming into the main town square, Jayden was taken aback once again at the extravagance of the setup. The stage itself probably cost more than District 9 did. All the technology and the artificial lights, the technicians skittering around, making last minute changes, and the mentors lolling to the side made Jayden sick to her stomach with nerves.
It took a while to pry Jelly off her leg, and hand her to their mother, but Jayden was too soon rounded into the thirteen-year-old pen in front of the stage. A couple of her old school friends saw her, but looked away as they hadn't talked for a couple of years after Jayden had left school. One boy smiled tentatively at the brown-eyed, red-haired Jayden, who scowled back in reply. The boy, Frond Atken, had been one of her close friends back in the day - she'd hung out more with the boys, running around and muddying her clothes, rather than with the girls, who spent all their time gossiping, even at the tender young age of eight, copying their parents' habits. That, of course, was before Jayden had found out that Frond was the son of one of the Peacekeepers who had stood by and watched her father be whipped to death. No citizen was supposed to be killed unless they were on death row, but the Peacekeepers had been bored that day, and the Capitol never came to check on the lower Districts, so no one had stopped before it was too late. Jayden clenched her fists and glared at the ground, fingernails denting the flesh of her palm.
Suddenly, the bustle quieted and the stage lights grew bright, very bright.
A peppy, tracker jacker venom colored woman hopped out onto the gloss of the stage floor with a flourish of her arms. Her lips were the shape of a dark green heart, and she wore an emerald green jumpsuit. Jayden had never seen skin so smooth or stiletto heels so pointy before. In her heart, she was afraid that the District 7 escort's shoes would leave dents on the excessively exorbitant stage. The escort grabbed the emerald encrusted microphone from its stand, which was there more for show than for utility, winked, and blew a kiss at the frozen audience.
The Reaping was to begin.