So this is my first Hunger Games fanfic. Please keep in mind that it takes place before the series takes place, hence the 12th Hunger Games. I have a few chapters back written already, and I'll be putting them up as I get reviews. (Next chapter= 10 reviews, etc.) Anywho, feel free to shoot me a pm if you have any questions or whatnot or just want to chat or something. Well, here it is. Enjoy. :)
I'm awakened by my grandmother's snoring, just like I have been every morning since me, my brother, and sister came to live with her, five years ago. I sit up, glancing across the room at Nana's bed. The old woman is on her back, snoring loud enough to wake the dead. I have no idea how Damon sleeps through it, but then again, my thirteen year old little brother has always been a heavy sleeper.
Slowly I stand and make my way out of the room, careful not to step on Damon's hand. Our tiny two-room home only has one bed, so Nana has the bed and Damon and I sleep on mats on the floor.
I slip past Damon and into the kitchen, grabbing my clothes for the day on the way out. I set the bundle on the old wooden table and turn my attention to the stove, where the embers from last night's fire are still glowing. I stir the embers and add some more coal, then grab the pot from the cupboard and start boiling water for tea while I get dressed.
Fifteen minutes later I stood outside in front of the house, a mug of tea in my hands. On a usual day, I would be getting Damon up and ready for our morning shift in the orchards before school. But today wasn't a normal day.
Today was the Reaping for the 12th Annual Hunger Games.
"Dess!" A voice calls from up the road. I turn and can't help but grin as Willoby starts running down the street towards me, Carter on her heels. Will, Carter, and I have been friends since we were kids, climbing the trees in the orchards like squirrels. Will practically tackles me, almost knocking me to my feet. Sometimes Will is a little crazy and not very practical, as if all the horrible things in this world can't affect her.
"Morning," I laugh, linking my arm in hers. Carter slips his arm through hers on the other side and we start heading down towards the field. I glance at Will and Carter as we walk. They both look distinctly District 11- dark hair and tanned skin. Will has big, silver-gray eyes and short, spiky black hair. It used to be longer- almost to her waist- but she's kept it short ever since it got tangled in a tree and she had to hack it off with a knife. She's a little taller than I am, and curvier too, even though her family doesn't have any more food than mine does. Carter is at least a head taller than Will, and his hair is dark and straight. Sometimes I think there's a little more between the two of them than just friendship.
We head out of the community and down to the orchards, where we usually hang out if we have free time. We have to head across a fallow field to get there, and when we reach the edge, Carter disentangles himself from Will.
"I'll race you," he says, taking off towards the trees.
"Hey!" Will and I yell, running after him. As I race across the field, the knot I hadn't noticed had been in my stomach all morning starts to loosen up, and I wonder if that was Carter and Will's plan all along. Reaping day has been a source of anxiety for me since my sister, Rowena, was reaped two years ago.
"Come on, Dess, you're falling behind!" Carter says over his shoulder, and I grin, speeding up. I pass Will, then catch up to Carter, staying stride for stride with him for a few moments before pulling ahead. I reach the trees a good twenty feet ahead of him, gasping for air after the run and because I'm laughing so hard.
"How do you do that?" Carter gasps when he reaches me. I just shrug, watching Will as she jogs up to us.
"It's not human, how fast you are," she says seriously, but the corner of her mouth twitches up.
"Come on guys," I say, swatting her on the shoulder.
We end up in a tree at the edge of the orchard, wasting time until we have to get ready for the reaping. All three of our families have been called to the District Square for the reaping, outside the Justice Building. It's not the first time any of us have gone- everyone gets called at least once, and this will be my third time. The last time my family was called, Rowena ended up in the Games.
Will is eyeing me warily. "You nervous?" she asks, getting straight to the point like she always does. I turn from watching the community and look down at her. She's sitting on a branch a little below me, Carter on a branch across from her. I'm the lightest, and basically the smallest, of the three of us.
I nod. "A little," I lie, not letting her know just how nervous I really am. But she knows me too well.
"Dess, it'll be fine," she says, patting my ankle, the only part of me she can reach comfortably, reassuringly.
We hang out in the tree for a bit, just talking about life. Will mentions how her baby brother has been cranky lately, because his teeth are coming in, and Carter about how his youngest sister, ten-year-old Ivy, is managing with her first year of field-work.
Soon it is time for us to head back towards the community, the little cluster of shack-like houses we call home. There are many of them scattered across District 11, each in varying degrees of distress. Our community is relatively close to the train tracks, about five miles from the District Square, so we can hear trains going by during the day, when they do, which is rare. It's also within a mile of the fence that keeps us in, although the Capitol says it's for our own safety, to keep wild beasts out. The Peacekeepers are relatively lax when it comes to the majority of laws- it's technically illegal for us to be hanging out in the orchard, or for Damon to set traps in the fields, or even the fact that they let us carry knifes, because we use them for work. The only rules they really enforce are those relating to the "safety" of the district. You can't use weapons, or steal from those that might have something worth stealing, and most importantly, you don't go anywhere near the fence. There's no way to get past it even if you did- it's electrified, most of the time, and reinforced with metal plates along the bottom and barbed wire on top, not to mention the guard towers. Only crazy, suicidal people get within site of it. The laws were enforced a lot more when I was little, when the rebellion was still fresh in the mind of the Capitol, but after more than a decade of submission from the District, the Peacekeepers are a little more relaxed about them.
We're walking across the grassy, empty field when Will stops. Both she and Carter have been watching the ground- we usually keep our eyes open for any extra vegetables that have survived, but I've been too distracted to pay attention- and Will's seen something. She kneels and fingers what looks like a weed, but we all know better.
"Potatoes!" Will shrieks, poking her finger through the soil. She glances up at me. "I can feel them!"
I kneel down next to her and pull out my knife, and start digging.
"There's a couple more plants over here!" Carter calls out.
In the end, we come up with two potatoes each, after making sure we leave some to grow more. We enjoy our secret little garden.
When we reach the edge of the community, we go our separate ways, heading to our designated dwellings to prepare.
I walk in the door and the first thing I hear is Nana's voice.
"Where have you been?" she scolds half-heartedly, seeing the potatoes in my hand. She takes them from me and sets them on the counter. "These will go well in the stew tonight," she says. "Damon's trap caught a fat little groosling this morning."
I glance at my brother, who's sitting at the table eating some sort of cold porridge. He looks some much like our father that it makes my head spin sometimes- dark hair and eyes, and these freckles that drive all the girls crazy. It's a wonder he's only thirteen, because although he's small, he doesn't look it at all.
"Morning," he says cheerily, porridge falling from his spoon to his lap. I hear Nana mutter something about what a slob he is and it's a good thing he isn't dressed yet.
"Morning," I laugh, ruffling his shaggy hair, before Nana shoves a basin and rag into my hands and gestures to the other room.
"Go get cleaned up," she barks. "You look like you've been sleeping in the woods for weeks."
I take the basin into the back room and undress, then dip the rag into the basin. The water is cold- my grandfather made sure that the well was deep, so we always had fresh, cool water, whereas some of the other families end up without any water because it dries up in a drought, or gets contaminated. There was an outbreak of disease five years ago, and even though our family had good water, both my parents caught the disease and died, leaving us in the hands of our grandmother.
Once I've cleaned up, I pull out my reaping outfit- a simple, dark green dress of my mother's. I don't quite fill it all the way, but it's the nicest piece of clothing I own. Then I start combing my hair out, using the rest of the water to clean it. I hadn't bothered with it this morning, just pulled it back with a leather tie like I do when I'm working. But now I leave it down.
My hair is an unusual color for District 11- red. Not bright red like this girl from District 5 who one the Games a few years back. Her hair was practically orange. No, my hair is dark, with a little brown mixed in with the red. It's also really long, about at my waist when it's down, and wavy. I get it from my mother.
I glance in the dingy mirror on my way out, and stop despite myself. I look just like my mother. Except the eyes. My mother had blue eyes, clear as the sky on an early summer day, as did Rowena. My eyes are my own, though- light brown, amber, gold.
I step into the kitchen, and Nana shoos Damon into the room after me, reminding him to scrub his face.
"My, you look beautiful," she says, "just like your mother." I give her a small grin and sit down at the table as she sets a bowl of the same cold porridge Damon had in front of me.
I eat quickly, and soon Damon comes out of the back room, his face clear of dirt, for once. He's dressed in his nicest pants, the cuffs rolled up so he doesn't step on them, a clean shirt.
After the dishes are done and Nana gives Damon's face the all clear, I slipping on my shoes- a pair of simple black canvas flats that I wear all the time. They're great for the fields and climbing trees, not to mention running.
We meet the rest of the families headed to District Square at the edge of the community, where a Peacekeeper bus sits waiting. The old thing looks as if its about to break down for good, and there is a running bet going as to when we'll all have to start walking the five miles to the reaping.
Carter, Will and I sit three to a seat on the way out there, the trip filled with nervous chatter.
Finally we arrive. It's almost noon, and the square is packed with people from all over the district. Together, these two facts make it unbearably hot. Damon and I wave goodbye to Nana as the mob of us- Carter, his thirteen-year-old sister Madi, Will, Damon and I- make our way towards the roped-off area. Carter takes Damon with him to the boys side, and Will and I drop Madi off in her designated area before heading to our own.
Now that we're essentially alone, Will turns on me.
"So," she begins, "did you notice Dante was on the bus this morning?"
I pretend I don't hear her, instead watching the last District 11 victor, Mikeal Allgood, talking to the spiky-blue-haired Capitol woman on stage. It's not the same Capitol escort as last year, I notice.
I'm pulled from thought when Will whacks me on the arm.
"Are you even listening to me?" she asks.
I gesture towards the stage. "There's a new Capitol escort this year," I tell her, trying to distract her, but it doesn't work.
"Big deal," she scoffs. "That's nothing compared to the fact that Dante couldn't keep his eyes off you on the bus."
"That's not true," I retort.
"How would you know? You were staring out the dirty window the whole time."
She's got me there. I was staring out the window the whole time. Between the crowded bus and the heat, I'd needed the distraction.
"Hey, Dess," says a voice over my shoulder. I can tell by the look on Will's face who it is before I even turn around.
"Hi," I say, looking up. Dante is a bit taller than Carter, so I have to look up at him because I'm so short. He's from the same community as us, and we used to be friends when we were really little, but we hadn't spoken a word to each other in years, until recently, when I started seeing him everywhere. I have to admit, he is quite handsome. He has the same dark hair and eyes as most District 11 people, but there's just something about him that makes him seem different.
"I just wanted to come and wish you luck," he says.
"Oh, well, thanks," I stammer. I could practically feel Will holding back laughter.
"Well, good luck." He places his hand on my shoulder as he says this, making my face heat up.
I nod, speechless, and he gives this little half-smile before walking away towards the boy's pen.
I turn back to Will and she has this look on her face, but before she gets the chance to say anything, the Mayor steps up to a podium on the steps of the Justice Building. It's a beautiful building, newly completed after the original one was destroyed in the rebellion a few years ago.
He starts his annual speech, the Capitol-written one about the history of Panem, then launches into the story of the rebellion, and how the Hunger Games were the Districts' punishment. You can see some of the older people shifting uncomfortably, some even with tears in their eyes. These are the people you know took place in the rebellion, and regret their actions because now they have to watch the ones they love fight for their lives.
At one point, my gaze falls on the boys' pen across the way, and I lock eyes with Dante for a second. I feel my face heat up again and tear my gaze away, focusing back on the Mayor's speech.
Soon, the blue-haired woman steps up to the podium, introducing herself as Crimson Terry. Will glances at me, trying not to laugh.
She gives a small speech, wishing everyone the best of luck, before she reaches into the boys bowl.
"Griffin Aires!" Her voice rings out.
The boy looks a little older than me, and if he's scared, he doesn't show it as he takes the stage.
"Now for the ladies," Crimson says, digging her hand into the girls bowl. I can feel my breakfast of porridge souring in my stomach from the anxiety.
She pulls the slip from the bowl, and I realize the Will has unconsciously grabbed my wrist, cutting off the circulation to my hand.
Crimson seems to pause for ages before she reads the name on the slip.
"Desdemona Reeves!"
Ok, so don't forget- that faster I get to ten reviews the faster chapter 2 goes up. Also, I need names for other tributes, so if you have any ideas, add those to you review along with which district they'd be in. There's no guarantee I'll use yours, but I will give credit to those who I do use. I do have names for some of them, but if I like yours better I'll change it, or I might put it in a different district. This is not a SYOT, I'm just too lazy to think up names. :) Anywho, don't forget to review. Please. And thank you for reading. :)