Chapter 1

Identification

Mayla's hands fumble along the hem of my dress, as she struggles to pull it past my knees. Apparently the capitol's modesty standards are a bit lower than the districts, or at least district three's that is. Honestly, its not all that awful, and if my mom wore it like this, I don't see the point of getting all hissy about it, so what if the blue garment ends about 3 inches higher than it should? It barely shows half of my thigh. No one will care, but Mayla is stubborn, insisting everything be perfect (and appropriate) for the reaping. The funny part is, is that we spend all this time preparing for the slight chance that we get chosen, and called onto stage, when the incident of that actually happening is the most dreaded thing that could occur, highly out staging some sort of wardrobe malfunction, but, doing this seems to calm her down a bit, so I don't complain.

An hour later, my heels are clicking against the gravel as I make my way toward District three's Justice Building. I can hear the roar of conversation flowing down the alleys from the main street about a block away, and press my palm firmly against my ear in an attempt to block some of it out. I don't understand how those people can converse so casually, knowing what today is. Knowing that in less than an hour two of our teenagers will be condemned to what will most likely prove to be their deaths, But then again maybe thats why they do, I mean after all, if everyone had a heart attack before the Reapings' every year, our citizens would forever be in an utter panic. I guess in order to maintain some sort of sanity they have to pretend every things fine, its just another day, just another reaping. People die everyday in district three, whats two more to the list?

I glance down one of the alley ways that connect the back street I've taken, to the main and catch sight of a girl with golden blonde hair tied in a tight knot at the base of her neck. Identical to my own, and wonder if its Mayla, but this girls huddled with a group of other girls and Burnan is no where in site, which can only mean its not. Mayla had left early to connect up with him at Marter's Cafe, his families business, and I'd assume they'd be here by now waiting for me along the stretch, but then again I wouldn't be surprised if they'd instead chosen to spend the last few minutes before the reaping in the woods, soaking up every last minute they may have together. Of course its not their last minutes, they should know that, but they refuse to ignore that slight chance. Mayla is 17 meaning her name is entered in the bowl 6 times. Thats it, and the thing is, is she turns 18 in 3 days, 3 days...but that doesn't matter, not that nor the fact that she's 1 month away from her wedding, or that she's 6 months away from giving birth to my niece or nephew, her name is entered anyway, she's as eligible to be reaped as I am, even more so in fact, as my name is entered only 4 times being 16 and all.

I wrap my arms tightly around my shoulders, suppressing the shudder that has absolutely nothing to do with the temperature, threatening to rock through me. "Dicen! Yo, wait up!" I whip my head around, jumping slightly and the sound of Ara's voice calling me to a halt. Her and Dekus sprint down the deserted side road to catch up to me, each looking slightly disheveled in their freshly ripped reaping clothes.

"What the hell have you guys been doing?" I ask startled, if they were to appear at the capitol like that, Mayor Dabsty would die of embarrassment for our district. Hell, they may even go as far as to whip them for punishment. The capitol people already see us as a bunch of neanderthals, they don't need anymore evidence.

Dekus blushes bright red, but Ara just grins at me, her onyx black hair gleaming in the early morning light, she looks as beautiful as ever, despite her mud coated face and ripped yellow knee length dress. "Well, turns out, they sent some extra peace keepers in bout' an hour or so ago, yuh know" she said, sweeping her hand out in front of us grandly and switching into a high pitched capitol accent "for the reaping! Some of um were watching the gates when we were on our way back from the lake house, they saw us, but we were too fast for um!"

Dekus snorts, and mumbles "barely."

"Whoa, whoa," I said holding my hands out to them "you guys were at the lake house...and I wasn't invited?" Its a good thing you weren't a small voice in my head mutters, Mayla would kill you if you showed up to the reapings like that, which is true of course, it still hurts a bit to think they were sneaking off to places without me. Especially the lake house, the abandoned centuries old cabin we'd discovered outside gate limits a few years ago. We'd all gone on a walk in attempt to distract me from what I like to refer to as my own personal "dark days" right after my mom had died and come across it. Ever since that day we've pretty much considered it our 'home base.'

"Oh! Well, we were going to." Ara said defensively, but when we got to your house earlier, your dad said you and Mayla were still getting ready and we shouldn't disturb you, sorry...But hey we brought you this" She shoved her hand out at me, opening it to reveal a silver ring with a green, oversized emerald on top, my mothers ring, I'd stole it the day she died from her jewelry drawer, knowing dad would soon be selling the rest off to pay for food since we no longer had her income to support us. Its not like dad doesn't have a job, its just that he doesn't have a job that would support four children, he worked in one of the many factories on "Indo Street" its the nickname given to downtown district three, nearly eighty percent of district three's citizens work there, seeing as how we're the electronic district, most of them are industrial, with towering smoke stacks, and blackened fumes spewing out, overall its pretty nasty to look at, but its thriving and considered some of the best work conditions of all the districts, aside from districts one and two for that matter, but they hardly count, they're not 'work' conditions so much as lounge areas.

I nod mutely and take the gleaming ring from her hand, quickly closing my fist around it, so as not to become too absorbed in the thing, and shove back images of my mother that come along with it. There is a reason, after all, that I lock it up in the wooden chest in the cabin all year, only bothering to take it out for the reaping. You never know when your gonna need some kind of district representation with you. "Thanks" I murmur "I almost forgot." Ara opens her mouth as if to say something, a kind of pity in her eyes, but I cut her off, more sharply than I intended, "So are we going then?" tilting my head in the direction of the mass mob a street of them say anything, just nod in agreement, their faces reflecting the grim unease I myself have felt all week.

A few minutes later we reach the entrance to Justice Square, where a swarm of people, all sporting their finest clothes (which isn't saying much. Ever since the rebellion district 3 has been subject to blatant poverty, most of us barely able to afford bread much less fine clothing, it was pure luck my mother managed to hang onto the few dresses she'd had when she was younger, and her dad was mayor, before he'd been caught for participating in the 'black market' and was tried at the capitol, they'd said he be back in a couple of days, that was 7 years ago.) young children under the age of twelve and everyone else over the age of seventeen walked past the gates, into the massive circle that is Justice center, most of their faces grim and tired, only very few, most over the age of 50, too old to have children eligible for participating in the games were laughing and making conversation. It seems it was far easier to pretend todays just another day before you see the lines of peacekeepers standing on either side of the street, their gazes blank, unseeing, their jackets all spotless white, with a cleanly brightness rarely seen in district 3.

The rest of us, all through the ages of twelve to seventeen file toward the 'check in' tables. My eyes wandering over the crowed, searching. I frown, "Do you guys see Mayla anywhere?" I ask, feeling a sort of unease, its a quarter to noon after all, Mayla is never late...

"I'm sure she's around here somewhere." Dekus mumbles, staring at his hands distractedly, "she knows better than to be late." And of course, thats was true, I realize, Mayla is as prompt as it gets, especially when it comes to the reapings. I nod, again.

"Go on a head" I gesture towards the tables, "I'll catch up with you Ara...and here Dekus" I extend my arm out to him and he takes a tentative step toward me, his green gray eyes, weary as they are, hold a kind of worried affection. I throw an arm around his neck, and give his shoulder a quick squeeze, "I'll, see you after the...I'll see you later." In a sudden flash, he gives me a quick grin, his teeth catching the sunlight and flashing.

"May the odds be ever in your favor" At that Ara bursts into a slightly hysterical sounding fit of laughter, clutching at her sides tightly, her head bowed down, causing her dark glossy hair to tumble past her shoulders and toward the ground. Out of the corner of my eye, a very sudden shift makes me stiffen, and a peace keeper, his eyes dark, in direct contrast to his bleach white jacket, is looming over us, his glaring eyes focused on Ara. "Move on then." He says sharply, his voice clipped. A silver machine gun of some sort is strapped across his shoulder. "You'll be late."

Ara's laughter subsides as sudden as it started, and she nods reaching for my arm, Dekus already five steps ahead of us towards the table. She leans into me, her voice lowered, her eyes still trailing the line of peacekeepers, "maybe Mayla is already in there..." she mumbles, letting her words trail off as we reach the end of the line to the check-in tables, cool air blows at us from the fan on the table, a shiver rocks my frame.

"She said she'd wait" I murmur, my voice weak. I turn and give the intersection, one last scan before taking another step forward, the line moving more quickly than I'd like. Once it was my turn I stared warily at the 'sign in' books, two large leather bound books, one for the boys of district three, and one for the girls. "Name?" The women on the other side of the table asked, without looking up, her voice crisp, bored. 'Of course' I thought blandly,' she's a capitol women, these are just games to her. Just for amusement...for fun.'

"Dicen Bennis" I tell her, my voice cracking. She glances up at me from underneath her 3 inch long polka dotted eyelashes. A questioning look, "Yes, I said Dicen." She chuckles, and under her breath mumbles something about the districts and what strange names we have...

Her fingers run lightly across the tabs sticking out of the side of the girl's book, labelled with letters. "Aww, there we are." She says pleased and flips the book open to a page near the beginning of the large book. My eyes rome carefully over the list of names, searching for my own. I huff out a slightly I see Mayla's name, directly below my own, the blank box next to it, the box that should (by now) have a small red smudge, containing all the internal information they need on her, in the case of her being reaped is empty.

The women clears her throat loudly, her hand extended out to me, expectingly. "Oh, sorry" I mumble and place my pointer finger facing upwards into her palm, she pulls it closer to her and produces a small silver object in her other hand, and in a quick flash, clicks it against the top of my finger, I wince but am careful not to jerk my hand. A small dot of blood appears, I glance away, feeling vile rise in my throat at the site of the maroon liquid.

"There we are, looks like you're the very last one." she says with a wide teethy grin, and turns around in her chair bending over a small silver kit. A shot of panic slides up my spine and I take another look around the intersection. 'She has to be here. This is mandatory!' But the intersection is empty aside from the row of peacekeepers. Someone clears their throat loudly and I look up to see Ara shooting me a meaningful glance from the entrance gate, her eyes flick to the large entry book in front of me. I turn back to it, and without thinking brush the dot of blood next to the square by my name, and then with another glance at the women, still distractedly rummaging in her silver kit, poke it next to the box by Mayla's, slam the book shut, and practically sprint to the entrance. My face flushing a deep shade of red.