President Snow slowly pulled a white envelope labled "100" in a square, black font from a small black box, as the people in the districts sat with bated breath, waiting for the announcement that would determine their fates for the next year. He broke the seal, and read, in a loud voice, "For the fourth quarter quell, each randomly selected girl has to choose the boy she is going to the games with, to remind the districts that it is they who chose their allies most unwisely."
Shrieks echoed from young girl's houses, those who were old enough to be entered in the reaping. Boys felt their stomachs drop; their eyes squeezed shut to block out the thought of being picked by someone from your own district, in some cases, to face imminent death. Mothers fainted and fathers paced, trying not to imagine what would happen if their child was sent to the arena, to fight to the death on live broadcast...
The old, beat up televisions in millions of shacks, apartments, houses and mansions turned off with a small "click", and the residents of these buildings went to bed, sure that if they slept, everything would be better in the morning. In one of these abodes, in a place called District 4, a young girl known as Piper Odair was sitting at her desk, trying to fo President Snow slowly pulled a white envelope labled "100" in a square, black font from a small black box, as the people in the districts sat with bated breath, waiting for the announcement that would determine their fates for the next year. He broke the seal, and read, in a loud voice, "For the fourth quarter quell, each randomly selected girl has to choose the boy she is going to the games with, to remind the districts that it is they who chose their allies most unwisely."
Shrieks echoed from young girl's houses, those who were old enough to be entered in the reaping. Boys felt their stomachs drop; their eyes squeezed shut to block out the thought of being picked by someone from your own district, in some cases, to face imminent death. Mothers fainted and fathers paced, trying not to imagine what would happen if their child was sent to the arena, to fight to the death on live broadcast...
The old, beat up televisions in millions of shacks, apartments, houses and mansions turned off with a small "click", and the residents of these buildings went to bed, sure that if they slept, everything would be better in the morning. In one of these abodes, in a place called District 4, a young girl known as Piper Odair was sitting at her desk, writing a poem about soap…
Chapter 1
Piper Odair was awakened by a small cry echoing from her little brother's room. She stretched, yawned, and rolled out of bed, off to check on Robert. The 11 year old boy flung himself into Piper's arms as she walked into the sea blue room.
"I had the most awful of dreams…" He muttered, tears still streaming down his face. As Piper stroked his back soothingly, she noticed that his shirt was soaked with sweat, and it stuck to his skin. "I dreamed that you were reaped, and you picked Owen!" Piper remembered with a jolt that today was the biggest day of the year. The reaping for the Fourth Quarter Quell. The day that the girl tribute would have to choose which boy would go to the games with her…the day that would decide whether or not you would live another year. Piper pressed her cheek against her brother's brown locks, the same as her mother's.
"It was just a dream," she answered him softly. "Besides, even if I was reaped, then I would never pick Owen. Why would I choose one of my best friends to die?" She kissed the top of Robert's head as he nodded, his tears now dripping much slower, although his nose had done the opposite. "Wipe your nose, and come to the kitchen for breakfast. We're having fish."
Piper left her brother to get dressed, and walked downstairs to the kitchen. She opened the pantry, and found quite an array of spices and herbs. She collected the ones that she needed, and, once she got the very old gas stove to work, began to fry one of the last fish they had in the cooler. She would have to go fishing later. She was the only one able to bring in food for her family, since her brother sobbed when Piper tried to teach him to catch fish, and her parents were incapable of doing anything. She smelled a slightly unpleasant odor, and realized her fish was burning. She quickly pulled it out of the pan, and put it on a plate decorated with small, painted seashells, which were actually quite annoying, as everything was decorated with the things. She cut the slightly charred fish in half, and put one part on a separate plate to bring to her parents. "Robert!" She called. "Breakfast!" She heard pounding upstairs that meant her brother was coming to the kitchen, and wandered upstairs to get dressed and ready for the reaping at ten o'clock.
Piper set the plate of fish down on her small desk, full of poems about random inanimate objects, and walked to her closet. Inside, she found 3 pairs of the same khaki pants and light green t-shirt, the clothes that the fishermen of District 4 wore. Since Piper was the daughter of victors, and had all the money that she wanted (which wasn't very much), she was not ordered to work every day, excluding Sundays, when everyone had a day off. Most of the people of District 4 were fishermen. They went out in boats before dawn every day, and only came back long after dark, their nets full of fish. Some people, mostly those who are incapable of fishing, made nets, fishing rods, and hooks, though everyone learns this trade as soon as they can hold things.
Piper moved her clothing to the side, and took out a small trunk, filled with clothes she only saw once a year. She pulled out a blue dress, decorated with shells and starfish. It was a pretty thing, though after wearing it three years in a row to the same event, an event that she absolutely hated, made her want to burn it. She slipped it on, and realized that the skirt came to her knees, instead of her mid calves like last year. She sighed, adding "sew a new dress" do her list of things to do after the reaping. If she made it that far.
Piper walked down the hall to her parents' room, the room, in her opinion, that was the most horrible place in all of District 4. She stopped at the door between her and certain hell, took a deep breath, and pushed it open.
Inside she found her parents, who, like always, were in various states of panic attacks. Her mother, who was once Annie Cresta, was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, curled in a ball and clutching her head, like she was trying to squeeze her skull until it was flat. Her father, the once great Finnik Odair sat on the bed, staring into nothing. Thanks to the Hunger Games, her parents were reduced to empty shells that screamed and wailed and cried. In the 69th hunger games, her mother had gone mad after her district partner was decapitated. She only won because once the arena was flooded, she was the sole tribute that was able to swim. Her father had won at the age of 14, and was praised for his excellent work with a trident, and treasured for his looks. But when he was reaped in the 3rd quarter quell,his mind took a turn for the worse. When every one of the tributes was in complete chaos, Finnik couldn't take it anymore. He was the one that sunk a trident into the heart of Peeta Mellark. The one that killed Katniss Everdeen, the face of the rebellion, the one true hope for the districts, with the knife of her lover. He had enough brains left to make my mother pregnant 4 years after I was born, and then became almost completely unresponsive.
Thanks to my parents, no District 4 tributes had won any of the last 24 Hunger Games. Since only victors can mentor, my parents have to revisit the games every year, watching kids that they have come to love, die in horrible ways. Piper sighed when she thought of how awful it must be, to fail at keeping someone alive. She left the plate of fish on the side table, quickly said, "Get dressed, reaping's at ten," and hurried from the room, trying to stench the flow of tears now streaming down her face.
After saying goodbye to Robert, she grabbed her spear from a hook by the front door, slung it onto a holder she attached to her dress, and made her way out of Victor's Village, the ring of 12 houses that winners of the Hunger Games got to live in. Currently, 3 were occupied. Hers, an old woman's that slept all day, and a man that looked like he was going to die at any given moment. Not one house had been filled since Piper's father had won the third quarter quell.
Piper walked along the cobblestone streets, passing old houses and run down shops, until she could see the sea, the rising sun reflecting of its blue surface. She started to run, her feet flying, her golden blonde hair streaming behind her. She simply could not bear to be away from it any longer. Piper loved everything about the ocean. It had been one of her only friends her entire life. Except Owen. She saw him standing in knee deep water, his trident ready, focusing intently on something in the waves.
"Owen!" She called, and the boy looked up, a huge smile on his face. His blonde hair was falling in waves over his forehead, his green eyes seemed to pop out of his tanned face.
"Piper!" He answered. "It's about time you showed up!" Piper kicked her shoes onto the sandy beach, removed her spear from her back, and waded into the water beside him.
Neither of them spoke as they hunted. The only sounds were those of the waves lapping onto the sand, or Piper or Owen's weapons piercing the water. The key was to stand absolutely still. Even the movement of the spear in your hand could send vibrations into the water, thereby scattering the curious fish around your legs. Piper was much better at fishing than Owen, who normally would gather roots and snails in the small pools on the shore. At the end of the day, Piper would spit half her share with Owen, and vice versa.
Piper stood, still as a statue in the water, focusing on three small fish in front of her. She singled the biggest out, and ever so slowly, raised her spear. Something black caught her eye, and she moved her head to focus on it. In the water, about ten feet in front of her, was a large, black fish. One that would feed her family for a week, maybe even two. Once again, she raised her spear, pure excitement running through her veins. With all the force she could muster, she threw the weapon. It sailed through the air, and pierced the water, above where the fish was. Piper waited, and finally saw red. She beamed, and went to retrieve her spear, where the flint point was now occupied by a 2 foot long catfish.
Piper returned to the shore to string her huge catch on a piece of rope. Owen was waiting, his mouth agape.
"Close your mouth, you'll catch flies," she said, laughing. Owen was the only person that really made her laugh, the kind of laugh that makes your stomach hurt. He quickly snapped his jaw shut, and plopped down on the sand. Piper sat next to him, her head on his shoulder. They sat like this for a while, thinking quietly, until Owen said,
"Piper, if you get reaped, I want you to know that.." she looked up into his eyes, and finished his sentence.
"You'll take care of Robert? And mom and dad?"
"Well, of course, but—" Suddenly, Piper realized how high the sun was. It must be going on 9:30! She jumped up.
"Owen! Look at the sun! It's almost time for the reaping!" She thrust her shoes onto her protesting feet, and slung her spear and fish over her back. Without waiting for an answer from her best friend, she took off toward Victor's Villiage, praying that she would get to the villiage square in time for the reaping.
