Hello valued readers! Welcome to Chapter One of my newest story, Underworld of Dreams. As is typically customary of me, I have started a new story after taking a break from writing for a while. I'm glad to be back, though, and ready to write more for you guys to enjoy!
This story takes place during the 74th Hunger Games. For the most part, I will try my hardest to keep it as cannon and accurate as possible, but of course, none of us are perfect and I apologize if there are any mistakes in my grammar, spelling, or facts along the way! This story will also feature a romance between my OC, Spring Farlane, and Cato. Katniss and Peeta and the rest of the gang will also be involved.
In other news for my page, I will be actively trying to update this story and Fly Away as much as possible. If you're interested in reading about an OC and Gloss, please go check that story out as well.
Follows, favorites, and reviews are very helpful and encourage me to update more frequently.
In this first chapter, we get to meet the main character and see some insight to her typical daily life. 'Tis also Reaping Day, and we all know what happens today! Anyway, enjoy!
Living is hard, and anyone who says any different is either insane or stupid. This thought rang in my head as I went out to feed the animals. It was early morning, much too soon for the sun to be up, but that didn't bother me any. I liked the calm and stillness of the dark. It provided a safe haven for me, a rest if you will, against the constant hustle.
My name is Spring Farlane. I've lived in District 10 all of my life, and I never knew what it felt like to have a belly full of food or a good night's rest. Now, don't get me wrong. I was thankful for everything my family has been able to provide me with, but that doesn't mean I don't think and wonder what it would be like to live in the Capitol for just a day. Just a day without hard work, a screaming baby, and a hungry stomach...
I was brought out of my reverie by the sudden morning call by our rooster. I murmured a few curses under my breath. I hadn't woken up as early as I'd thought, then. Soon, my three out of four older brothers would be out of their beds, hollering and carrying on as they always did. Even on days like this, they would find some source of reserve energy, while I was tired and gloomy, one of the only days out of the entire year where I allowed myself to think that way. People often lose their sanity if they think too much about how much injustice has been done to them throughout their lives.
It was Reaping Day. The day everyone in the 12 districts of Panem dreaded, well, for District 10, anyway. 18 tributes had already been chosen, and today, two more would be added to the pool. I just prayed and hoped to God that I wouldn't be one of them, but my odds were against me.
Because of the fact I was 16, my name was entered five times automatically, then even more times because I'd applied for tesserea, and not a small amount, either. The majority of my siblings were too old or young to partake in the Hunger Games, therefore, that was less grain and oil we could receive from the Capitol from our tesserea. Because of this, my brother, Tobias and I were forced to sign up for more tesserea than last year, when there had been four of us- me, Tobias, and the twins Percy and Link. This year was Tobias' last year, and next year, I would be forced to take even more. Our oldest brother, Markus, was 27. He'd long since moved off the family ranch and gotten a job as a breeder, a generally high-esteemed role in the District 10 society.
In addition to myself and the four terrors I called brothers, there are also two little ones; Keanu, the fussy boy of four years old who'd already developed the habit of cursing like a sailor and chewing on straws of wheat, and Juniper, or Juni, the practical newborn who'd just turned two months old three days ago.
As to where I stood in the family rankings, I was the second mother. It's not that our own mother didn't do a terrific job, it's that we were absolutely swamped with work all the time, and from the time you could walk, you were working. We were one of the best ranches in our district, and occasionally, we got special treatment from the Captitol, such as being able to keep a cow or two if we didn't tell anyone else and if we had had a promising yield for the quarter.
Anyway, Mother was constantly working, and very little time could be spent making sure that Keanu and Juni got the care they needed as youngsters, so I took over that role. They're much like my own children, and from the early age of 12 I'd decided that being a mother was more hard work than it seemed. I'd developed a strong back bone from it, however, and I was used to being the dependable child who got things done. I liked to think of myself as the favorite, even though my parents said several times they didn't have a favorite. (I was definitely the favorite).
Out of all my family members, however, I was closest with my father. He's treated me special since the day I was born, and he still does to this day. We've a close relationship, and for that I'm thankful. I didn't have all that many friends from school, and without him, I'd feel even more isolated.
Suddenly, a bark brings me out of my dreams once again as I looked down at our old herding dog, Chester. Almost ten years old and blind in one eye, you'd be surprised to know that he still moves like a pup, and those old sheep don't stand a chance. I give his ears a quick scratch as he padded beside me to the barn, his tail wagging gently behind him.
Already I could tell today was going to be a hot one. I wiped off the slight sheen of perspiration that had gathered on my forehead as I entered the barn, the smell and sound of cows hitting me in the face like a brick wall, as it always did. I never seemed to be able to grow accustomed to it, and though I didn't find it unpleasant, necessarily, I did prefer the smells of our horse barn.
Rows upon rows of our cattle stood before me as I started the gruesome task of feeding. With two bales of hay atop a rusty old cart with bald tires, I lugged the thing behind me as I cut the bale twine and threw two flakes into each stall. After this row, I would have to go back and put two more bales onto the cart, a process I would have to repeat several times. I had really begun to work up a sweat at this point, and I was grateful that today was the day I could take a bath, for on Reaping Day we wear our best and look our best.
A total of two hours later and I was finally done. By this point, the sun was already on its ascent to the sky and my brothers' loud voices could be heard from within the confines of the barn. Sometimes I envied them, for every day they saddled up their horses and rode out to rotate the grazing of our sheep, goats, and cows, but then again, their work was also dangerous.
If you were caught out in the sun of District 10, you would have about four hours before you would pass out with lack of water and shade. Within ten hours, you'd be dead and the only things that would know would be the sun, the dirt, and the coyotes.
After putting the hay cart back in its respectful place, I made my way back to the house. Standing before me was a three-story farmhouse that had been built before the Dark Days, and generations before me had lived here. The front porch was sagging, and the roof had holes in some places, but to me, it was home, much as it always had been. The rockers were rocking slightly as the breeze came every once in awhile. There were three of them, and very rarely were they ever used. The wind had become their new users, for there was no time around our house to enjoy such a leisurely activity.
As soon as I opened the front door, the smell of biscuits and sausage assaulted my nose. I smiled softly to myself, for the bread had been made fresh today. Typically, the loaf of dry, stale bread would be expected to last us a week, but we viewed today differently, as it was Reaping Day. Mother always bought fresh ingredients to make biscuits and sausage gravy on Reaping Day. We also didn't typically have meat on most days, but every year, a hog gets sick, and old Bert had come down with something a few days ago. I suspected it was him who was now sizzling in a skillet.
Entering the kitchen, my toothy smile grew ever so slightly as I saw the woman who gave birth to me and six other children. You'd never guess that, though. Her light blonde hair was pulled back in a messy bun to stay out of her face. Her frame was petite and slight, and her clear blue eyes reminded me of the sky. The only things that gave way to her age were her pitiful nails, cracked and broken from years of hard work, and her haggard fingers, bent and wrinkled from overuse. She would be even prettier if she had had the chance to put on some makeup every once in awhile, do her hair, or dress to the nines, but thinking like that was just unconventional. There was simply no time, and to worry about your appearance in District 10 was worthless. No one cared nor noticed when you were too busy with working to live.
I gave my mother a quick kiss on the cheek before asking, "Need any help with anything, Mother?" I knew that she would say no before the word even left her mouth; she was just like that. Very independent, and hated asking people to do things.
"No, dear, I'm just finishing up with breakfast. Now, why don't you go and run a bath before your brothers get back? This'll take a half hour to make all this sausage, so you go on. Ain't got nothin' better to do," my mother had a habit of rambling, but with that sweet accent and light voice, I never complained. Her prattle was always very soothing to me.
Taking her advice, I hurriedly ran upstairs to the second floor. From the bedroom I was soon to share with little Juni, once she was old enough to sleep in a bed, I could hear the snores coming from down the hallway. Those snores belonged to my father, and I was glad to hear him sleeping. He had been working like a dog lately, late into the night and late into the morning. I suspected that he'd just gotten to bed, and he would have to be up for the Reaping soon, but I thought it best not to disturb him yet.
Grabbing one of the towels that wasn't totally dilapidated, I headed to the bathroom. We had two bathrooms in our house, but this one was considered our better one, for it lacked a hole in the ceiling that leaked when it rained. I turned on the faucet and leaned against the sink as I watched the lukewarm water fill to the brim.
We weren't fortunate enough to afford real hot water, but this was better than nothing, and thankfully, we weren't forced to all share the same bath water, though we could only afford to fill the tub so many times, hence the reason we bathe once or twice a week.
Peeling my sweaty clothes off, I step into the large tub, heaving a small sigh as I slowly sit down on the bottom. I closed my eyes, leaning back against the wall of the tub. It was so rare that I got the chance to sit and relax, and bath time was the best time for it. It was quiet, save for the snores of my father and the distant humming of my mother downstairs as she cooked breakfast.
My mess of golden hair was the first thing I set to clean after my five minutes of relaxation. Taking the expensive shampoo we used on special occasions, I scrubbed and scrubbed, watching with distaste as dirt came off the strands, swirling in the water. My hair was long, and while I loved its length hitting at the small of my back, I knew that it was also inconvenient, especially for my line of work, and cleaning it was a nightmare. It was quite literally a mop, and was so thick that brushing it took a good five minutes alone.
Once my mane shone with cleanliness, I set about to scrubbing the rest of the dirt and sweat off my body that had been building up for six days now. Some time later, I was finally finished, and rising out of the tub, I wrapped the towel around me as I absently watched the tub drain, making sure that it didn't get clogged or backed up.
Setting out to brush my hair, it was nearly dry by the time I was finished, and I scurried over to my bedroom quickly after my hair flowed in gentle, bright, golden waves down to my back. I allowed the towel to drop to my feet, and opened my armoire. Not many clothes hung on that measly rack, but there were enough to get me by. With a sigh, I grabbed my favorite dress, a light blue smock with pearls along the neckline. A few were missing, and the fabric was faded from years of use, but I loved that dress with my entire being. It had been my great grandmother's dress, and it had been passed down through the generations, much like everything else in our family.
Slipping the dress over my skinny figure, I took a minute to look myself over in the single mirror we had in our house, albeit old and cracked, it still did its job. I'd inherited a lot of my mother's looks, save for my height. I was taller than her by about four inches, and my hair was a few shades darker. My collarbones stuck out more than hers, as well as my hip bones, but I attributed that to the fact that I was younger and my skin had not yet begun to sag. Sometimes, I think I'd be pretty, save for my unhealthy weight, but most people in the districts suffer with the same instances of malnutrition, then I'm reminded of the fact that it doesn't matter how good or plain you look, for all that matters is how much you can work, except for this day. On this day, the Capitol wants all citizens of the districts to put on their best masks and pretend they were satisfied with their meager lives.
Opening a drawer to my dresser, I pulled out the makeup I used rarely. I had gotten my first tube of lipstick for my first Reaping Day, and I still had it to this day. Applying the deep red shade, I smiled softly at myself, forcing myself to ignore the sunken hollows beneath my eyes. Nothing a little foundation can't fix, I told myself as I applied the fine powder along my face, satisfied that I looked less sickly now. If only I felt that way in my head.
I decided to let my hair down. After all, I was having a decent hair day, and those are few and far between. Sliding on the slippers that were a little too tight and old, I made my way downstairs, where I was met with three sweaty, tanned, and rowdy boys. I smiled to myself as I sidled around them, my mother scolding them for rough housing around Keanu, who was trying his best to keep up with them.
Sitting at the table that was just big enough for us, I took in my brothers' appearances, comparing them to my own. Like me, they showed the same signs of hard work; calloused hands, dark skin, sun bleached hair, and blue eyes that twinkled even when times were tough, for we never gave up. However, there were some differences. Link and Percy were identical twins, even personality-wise, as well, in my opinion. Both had dark auburn hair that was kept short, but naturally stuck up in the front, just like my father's. They had deep dimples, also like my father's, and both were tall and lean, muscles taunt and coarse just underneath the surface of their skin. I recounted hazily in my memory that Markus had looked similar to them.
Tobias, however, looked more like my mother and me. He had lighter hair than mine, more like the shade of Mother's, and he kept his hair longer than his brothers'. I felt closer to him than the twins, mainly because we were closer in age, but also because we seemed to share thoughts sometimes. It was almost as if Mother had given birth to two sets of twins; Link and Percy and Tobias and myself.
I glanced over to little Juni and Keanu and couldn't help but smile. Already, Juni was showing signs of red hair, and her eyes were green, like Father's. She was the only one in our family to have green eyes, and she was so perfect to me that I wondered if anyone could truly ever dislike her. Well, maybe they could if they heard her scream and cry, but that's beside the point.
Keanu was also unique in his appearance, taking on almost equal traits of my mother and father. He had strawberry blonde hair with light blue eyes, and for his age, he was on the short side, taking after the shortness of my mother. He was ornery, for sure, but I loved him all the same, sassiness and all.
To top off my character observation of my family, I was ecstatic when I saw my tired father in the doorway, leaning over to give my mother a kiss. His auburn hair was tousled from sleep, and his mint green eyes were still red from lack of sleep. He was the tallest one in the room, and his presence was always commanding. My brothers immediately stopped their childish antics and Percy took off to get ready for the day. The rest of the boys would have to wait until he was done. Even if Tobias and I were the only ones who had the possibility of being reaped today, it was custom for the entire family to get dressed up for the occasion.
It wasn't long before Mother had plates set out for all of us. On this special day, we were allowed to use old china my mother had gotten at a special sale from a family who no longer had a use for it. They were considered our best dining materials, even though some of them had chips and cracks. Our table was full to the brim, even with two seats empty; Percy's and Markus', the chair that would soon be Juni's once she could sit up in a dining chair.
Before digging into our steaming breakfast that made our mouths water and our stomachs rumble, we bowed our heads, took one another's hand, and said grace. As soon as the 'Amen' had left our lips, my brothers greedily began to dig in while my mother patiently fed Keanu, keeping Juni swaddled in a blanket close against her, even though the room was rather hot.
My father and the boys buzzed excitedly about the latest town gossip. I rolled my eyes at them, laughing softly to myself. They were worse than a bunch of old ladies playing bridge, really. It was quite hilarious.
Once breakfast was over and the rest of the family was ready, as a large group we made our way over to the barn before departing for the town square. It was a tradition in our family that we each kiss a cow, sheep, goat, chicken, horse, and dog before the Reaping, praying for good luck and hope from the animals. There was also the possibility that this would be the last time Tobias or I would ever see these animals again, but I didn't like thinking about that.
I spent the most time with my favorite horse, Willy, and my beloved dog, whom you already know as Chester. They were both two of the best things in my life, and if times ever got too tough I thought I wouldn't make it, I remembered Willy's agility and speed, and Chester's endurance and grit. I lingered with them for a few more moments, wrapping my arms around both of their necks in a hug before departing. Why was I acting like this was the last time I'd see them?
Sure, I had my name in that giant glass fishbowl a few dozen times, but there were families whose kids entered their names even more than I did. The odds were in my favor, and I wouldn't have to worry about the Hunger Games, right?
As we made it to town, the rest of District 10 was, for the most part, already there. We were a relatively small district, and most people knew each other. As a family, we all kissed and hugged before Link, Percy, Father, Mother carrying Juni, and Keanu gathered around where the rest of the families were, making small talk.
Tobias and I both made our way over to the check-in station, where two peacekeepers pricked our fingers for a miniscule amount of blood for identification. After the relatively quick process, I made my way over to the 16 year old girls. I knew all of them from school, but I was only close with a few. My best friend, Summer, made her way over to me once she saw me, flashing me a bright smile.
We'd met years ago, on the first day of school. We'd both been scared, as we didn't have our parents with us. Tobias had walked me to school that day, and Summer's brother had walked her. As the teacher introduced the class, Summer and I hit it off instantly. Both of our names were so similar, and ironically, were both warm seasons that started with 'S'. However, that was where the similarities ended.
Summer had dark hair almost the color of ebony, with very tanned skin and dark, wide eyes. She had deep dimples in both of her cheeks, and she was very loud and bubbly, while I was more reserved and quiet. She was also very 'mature' with boys, and she had a new boyfriend almost every week. Her personality was infectious, and often times, she could brighten even the gloomiest person's day.
Summer's family was also big like mine, except she had four younger sisters and one older brother. We both had similar roles in our families, and I was glad that she always there for me to rant to about problems because she just understood what I meant. It was refreshing and comforting. We always had each other's backs, and we had gotten in one fight in all of our time as being best friends.
Once she was within distance, I pulled her in a tight hug. I prayed under my breath that neither of us were reaped this year, or next year, or the year after that. As long as we could make it three more Reapings without being drawn, we would be safe from the torture for the rest of our lives. The thought brought a gentle smile to my lips- Summer and I as old grannies with two generations of kids surrounding us.
"Oh, Spring, you look so good! I love that dress!" Summer babbled excitedly. She said the same thing every year.
"Thanks, Summer. You look good, too," I replied, a smile on my face that matched hers. For a while, we just chit chatted. There were two other girls we hung out with on occasion, and they were too busy talking to their boyfriends before they were forced to split up. We also talked to a boy our age by the name of Bugsy. His name was actually Kettington, and I'd never been able to figure out how you devise Bugsy from Kettington, but I never pushed the subject. He blushed bright red every time I brought it up.
Bugsy was actually the person who had caused my first and only fight with my best friend. For a while, she had been after him when we were 14 and raging with hormones, but he had turned down her advances. When asked why, he exclaimed that he liked me instead, and she had refused to talk to me for weeks. I highly doubted what he said was true, however, as he never brought it up again. It was more than likely just an excuse to not be used by the highly promiscuous Summer.
A few months after the whole fiasco, however, we all made up, and are three best friends to the day. I also said a small prayer that Bugsy nor Tobias would be reaped today as the ceremony began. District 10's escort, Cavannah Featherquill, greeted us as she took the stage of our justice building, a tall, grey building that had our district seal above the doors. The mayor and District 10's two mentors sat on the stage. The mentors' names were Amandla and Ven. While I never personally knew them, they both had a reputation around here. They lived in Victor's Village, and most of the time, they were reclusive.
Ven had won his games by playing the weak kid, refusing to fight back during training when he was picked on. However, he was surprisingly strong and cunning in his Games, and even managed to outsmart the Careers. He was a dark-skinned man with a bald head and a protruding belly from overeating and drinking alcohol, probably. He had never been a really attractive man, and he looked even worse now as he was approaching his mid forties.
Amandla, on the other hand, proved how tough she was from the get-go. She trained hard, letting other people know she was a threat. She was spunky, fierce, and short to top it all off. She had vibrant red hair with bright green eyes and pale skin, reminding me slightly of my father. She was the nicer and younger one of the two, as well as the more attractive, if we were comparing looks. She had won her Games by fighting tooth and claw to the victory. Her win had been more recent than Ven's. I think she was in her late twenties.
As I watched Cavannah cross the stage in her huge platform heels, my feet hurt just looking at them. Ven was dressed in a silky green suit while Amandla wore a complementary dress of green with emeralds sown along the bodice. She looked radiant and natural, very unlike Cavannah. The differences were almost comical. Why did Capitol people wear stuff like that?
Following the Capitol's fashions in more than just her choice of footwear, Cavannah wore her hair in a short bob, dyed bright white. Her dark skin was a sharp contrast to her hair, and her lips, and practically all of her clothing. The only things that appeared natural were her warm mocha eyes and skin. Her white dress had several layers of ruffles and it ended just before her knee. The ruffles appeared to be a different material than the dress itself, as they shined and sparkled in the light as she turned her body. She was a pretty lady, and for the most part, she wasn't a terrible person, but I found myself being appalled just because of the fact that she was from the Capitol, and she had probably never known what it was like to be so hungry that you cried yourself to sleep.
Soon, Cavannah was giving the speech about the rebellion, and why it was necessary that the Hunger Games were implemented. She droned on for a while in the clickity accent that made my ears hurt. It was nothing like the accents around here; sweet, smooth, and connected. Cavannah's speech was terse, staccato, and separated. Harsh to the listener's ears.
After her speech, the obligatory video began rolling of President Snow talking about the rebellion, totally not the same thing we'd just heard. At this point, I was getting bored, even more so than usual, and I glanced to see that Summer was mouthing words to her newest boy toy, giving him eyes as well. I had the feeling that she hadn't paid attention to any of this. I didn't blame her, though. I was bored out of my mind.
When at last the ceremony was over, the video ended with the Panem anthem playing, then the screen went blank. My heart rate instantly rose exponentially as Cavannah made her way over to the giant glass bowl that held my name more times than I'd like for it to. I duly wondered if Summer had signed up for as much tesserea as me.
For a few painful moments, Cavannah made a few little comments about ladies going first, but I couldn't hear her over the blood pounding in my ears. I was more nervous for this Reaping than I had ever been, and I had no idea why. My palms were sweaty as I clenched my fists together, watching the Distict 10 escort fish around in the bowl like a cat does to a pond before her finely manicured nails pulled out a slip of white paper.
Frolicking over to the microphone with a huge smile on her lips, she unfolded the slip, a pause that seemed to take eternity, before she said a name that I recognized, but didn't react. Couldn't react. The name was Spring Farlane. She'd said my name.