To be ripped apart (125th Hunger Games) Chapter 1: The Reaping, a hunger games fanfic

Background Story:

Somewhat unexpected, the now aged granddaughter of President Snow rose to power, building up a dictatorship and again, rearranging the Hunger Games, making the Capitol rise once more and building six new Districts around it. The careers districts are 1 and 4.
She was tortured after the rebels won over the Capitol, and since then is lunatic, but evil, has a sharp, but crooked mind and plans on rising these glorious days, as she calls them, again to make everybody suffer the way she did. She pretends to do what Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark would have done, as they were the ones that killed President Coin, to mask the true nature of her regime.

Every year, one or two winners are crowned. Two can only be crowned if they are from the same district, in order to honor Katniss and Peeta.
In the career districts, volunteering is turned into a contest- who arrives at the pedestal first, is he one to go into the arena.

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The fifth Quarter Quell:

To remember all of you that the spirit of the Hunger Games is stronger than any bond, even the bond of a family, only those boys and girls in between 12 and 18 years old are chosen who have a sibling in the same age span and of the opposite gender. All names will be mixed up, and one is reaped; this boy or girl will enter the arena with his sibling. If one has more siblings that could be chosen, he will be the one to choose his brother or sister to die or to be a winner in the arena. Volunteering is only possible if the volunteering persons meet the conditions. This year's two winners, a boy and a girl, may not come from the same District.

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Marti POV [D1, M, 14]

I was standing in the very front of the crowd, determined to volunteer; my sister had participated in these games, but her limp body that had been cut into pieces came back in a coffin. My perfect elder sister, the one my mother adored and trained, choosing her over me, all the time. They were sure she'd win, and I remember my mother crying so hard I thought she'd spit out her lungs any second, ripping her hair out and beating my younger brother up for no reason. My father just looked at me and said: "You can do better than her."

I'm lucky my mother didn't hear that, as she would've made me her next target. When the Hunger Games were over, a boy from district 4 won, my mother started drilling me. She had never been satisfied; I was to slow, to weak, to bad at everything. But my father was proud, and my younger brother and even my other elder sister looked up to me. And now, with only fourteen years old, I had the plan to go to these games, and to win this thing. My mother would be so proud…

"Well, we only have one bowl to choose from!" The woman's voice is high-pitched and sounds weird in some way. From the recordings of the very first Hunger games I've watched, I know that they used to call this the Capitol accent; and it sounds pretty creepy. She takes a paper and reads it.

"Annabeth and Philippe Laude", she announces. I storm forward; my sister is doing the same on the girl's side. We reach the tribune first. "We, Marti and Scarlett Annerose Cole, are volunteering to participate as tributes!" The woman smiles at us, but she looks like a snarling wolf. "Well, isn't that just GREAT news? Come up, you two!" We walk up; I have a triumphant smile on my face. The woman stands between us, takes our hands and raises them up into the air: the crowd is cheering for us, and I give them a triumphant smirk. I'll win this thing. I will. "Welcome the first two tributes in the 125th Hunger Games!"

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Irina POV (D2, F, 16)

I've never liked crowds: standing in between hundreds of sweating, shaking and trembling bodies, all breathing fast, and occasional hastily whispered words flying through the air, this is hell for me. Yet I am calm, as calm as one can be when he might be chosen to die in an arena. District 2 ain't bloodbath material, and we do have some winners, but we certainly aren't a career district. And I'd have to go with my good for nothing elder brother. He was only eleven month older, but acted as if I was his slave. And IF I'll be Chosen I'll make him pay.

As a battle royale, I am in the better position. I have caught and killed many animals as we have a pig farm and a butcher's shop. My brother, who is significantly smaller than me and as weak as a little girl, and with his nerdy glasses and ferret-like face not exactly attractive, was doing the finances whilst I helped in the shop.

"This year, I saaaadly can't say 'Ladiiiies first', since there is only one bowl", the lady on the pedestal begins, tracing alone the edge of the glass bowl with her fingernails that are very, very long, "so we'll go right into choosing. Be exited, because this time we will choose a brother and sister pair!" Her laughter is as fake as her nails, hair and golden colored skin. I hate her; she's new, came from district five, the most unwanted district, the coal district. She is really awful, so I suppose the Capitol people enjoy her.

She takes a note, smoothes it down and reads the name. I beg that it ain't us, not us, not me and the ferret. "And this year's tributes are", she smiles into the audition that is keeping its breath, "Toby and Irina Neiva!"

She laughs, and the audience claps. I walk up with my eyes fixed on the stairs leading up to the tribune, but the temptation to simply smirk into the cameras is too great, so I simply do it. We walk up, and the woman places herself between us, pretty easy considering that I try to keep my distance from the ferret as often as possible. The crowd cheers and I laugh as I see that the woman unintentionally knocked my brother off his feet as she lifted him off the ground. She looks at me with a slightly irritated expression, but I don't care.

Everyone knows how much I despise my younger brother, so why hide my feelings?

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Mina (D3, F, 13)

I stared up to the woman in pink, and she looked like she does every year, like a doll, a plastic doll. My eyes follow her as she walks to the glass bowl filled with paper scraps neatly folded three times. I have two siblings, an eighteen year old brother and a twelve year old brother. If I was to be chosen, whom of THEM would I choose? It would be cruel to choose my younger brother, he was so young, and he wouldn't stand a chance. But my elder brother's survival was important for the family, as my younger brother was crippled and I was too small to earn money. And since our father died in a factory explosion, someone other than my mother had to earn money.

If he'd die in the arena, my younger brother was doomed too, he would die alongside me, my elder brother and my mother from starvation; at least we'd probably reunite with my father. But I stopped thinking about it. I wouldn't be chosen; it was so unlikely to happen that I shouldn't even consider it. I had missed the pink woman's monologue; now she had already taken a paper scrap and smoothed it.

"Mina Michigan and either Drake, 12, or Dust, 18", the woman read aloud. I was so shocked I didn't even move until someone poked me, whispering: "You need to get up there." I saw the Peacekeepers coming my way already, and quickly ran up to the pedestal. The woman looked even more like plastic from close up. "Oh dear, so I suppose you'll choose your brother Dust?" I was staring at the ground, seeing only the hardwood floor and the edges of the doll-like woman's shoes.

"My mother can't bare Dust", I nearly whispered, but the microphones catch every sound in the dead silence, but nonetheless I spoke louder: "I'm choosing Drake Michigan." Shocked gasps came from the audience. My younger brother came up to us, looking shocked and despaired. "Drake, I'll explain", I whispered, but again it is audible due to the microphones; I should get used to not having privacy. The cameras catch my face, I look even younger than my brother, I was thin already, really thin, and my huge eyes were shining with tears.

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Reid (D4, M, 17)

I made eye contact with my sister who was standing right next to me. "Don't", she whispered, but I knew she'd do it. "You promised", I whispered. The kids alongside us were already making place, in order not to get trampled when we'd run to the front to volunteer. And even though my sister doubted we'd win, I had talked her into volunteering with me.

Me sweet, caring younger sister who would die for me at any time, had said yes, if only to protect me. So I wouldn't have to battle her when only the two of us were left, and I'd have a faithful protector in the arena. I didn't care about her as a person, but people so willing to sacrifice themselves should not be disappointed when they discover they were only used. It is their fault after all. The woman had begun talking, giving us a variety of her usual beginning talk: "Ladies aaaand gentlemen, I may welcome you to a very special reaping! Today we will choose a pair containing brother and sister!"

She grabbed a sheet and unfolded it, and without any other words, she read the names. Our names. "Reid and Eve Ira." I thought we'd Need to volunteer, I didn't think about this, but when I saw my sister running, I speeded up and followed her, racing to the pedestal, kicking and shoving people on my way. Someone fell right onto my path and I used his face as a stepping stone. I left his scream behind me, but it was his fault. I reached it just in time and with two jumps, I raced up the stairs. You could see the trail of fallen people wherever we ran through.

The woman raised our hands in the air, yelling: "THIS IS THE SPIRIT! WELCOME OUR NEWEST TRIBUTES: REID AND EVE IRA!" For such a small woman, she could scream pretty loud; my ears really hurt. I laughed frantically, and my sister chuckled. I saw a smirk in her face that didn't quite fit her, but I ignored it. It was most likely just for the cameras.

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Rea (D5, F, 18)

I stared at the pedestal, it was made out of birch wood, looking too light and clean for the district in which the dirty coal dust layered on everything and everyone, it was just everywhere. The district that was specialized in coal extraction was 12, but that was before Mary Snow had raised her empire. Now, the sixth's district was still associated with its heroes and heroines, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark; but there was no time to think of this now.

I was just hoping that my brother wouldn't be chosen, or me, for that instance. He was only fourteen years old, and I doubted I could protect him. I was weak and undernourished, and even though I was tall and fast, I couldn't defend anyone. My brother was sickly, and couldn't run very well. He'd die in the bloodbath for sure. And I wouldn't abandon him. He was standing quite near me, so I shot him a quick glance and mouthed: "Good luck!" he flashed me a thumps up, and looked to the tribune again.

The woman was new, the other one went to district 3 or so, but what do I know- or care, for that matter? They're all the same. They say the same, act the same and have the same job. She is very nervous, I can see that, and her voice is a little too low-pitched for Capitol-standards. That actually makes her more bearable and even a little sympathic.

"Well then, let's choose our tributes", she says and walks over to the glass bowl. She picks a paper scrap and reads it aloud without waiting like the pros do. "Rea and Tristan Junes!" She smiles unconvincingly. I catch my brother's gaze once again and I saw he was despairing already, close to crying. Again, I gave him a smile, and we started walking up the pedestal's stairs, and when we finally met, almost upstairs, I took his hand and tried to give him all the comfort he could get. But I had to let go when the moderator of the reaping stepped between us and raised our hands into the air.

"Welcome our tributes, Rea and Tristan Junes!" Her voice was cracking at the first word; she really WAS a newcomer.

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Dylan Rhys (D6, M, 15)

I stood right next to my twin sister. We were fraternal twins, boy and girl, but we still looked very similar, the same hair color, the same eyes and mouth, the same height; we were both muscular, and some people even confused us with each other. And even though we weren't similar, we weren't the same, there was this connection between us. Thus I know felt her tension, and felt the same. She was afraid, really afraid, and she automatically took my hand. I stretched mine out for hers in the very same moment, and our fingers met and intertwined.

"We can do this!" I smiled at her and she smiled back. "Well, I welcome you, to the 125th Hunger Games! My name is Isabelle Trinkett, and I'll be reaping this year's set of tributes, siblings, in this case!" She grinned at us, and I thought how sick it was that she enjoyed this show, all these deaths. Last year, she had a winning team, and she was hoping to get a better district after this year. She snapped a paper scrap out of the glass bowl, opened it and with a smooth, cheerful voice she read the names: "Dylan and Reiko Rhys will be the sixth district's tributes!"

We let go of each other's hand, and walked up the stair, exchanging a glance with my other half, my other being, when we reached the stairs. We walked up and automatically flanked the moderator, both with a bored smirk on our faces. We had planned this, just for fun, even though we never thought we'd be reaped. But now, we were able to move absolutely synchronic and our performamce was perfect. The woman took our hands and pushed them into the air.

"These were the last tributes reaped for this year's Hunger Games!" Beneath my facade, I was scared as hell. And so was my sister.

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Marti's POV [D1, M, 14]

When we watched the recap of the reaping, I checked out the other tributes. "What do you think?" My mentor's question was no threat; I didn't even have to think: "Three is bloodbath material, Two won't pose a threat, as they are divided, and the boy is"- I chuckled- "a weakling!" I had to laugh now. How the boy lost his footing, and the sister laughed her ass off despite the crowd being dead silent.

"Well, the girl seems ruthless, so she might be a minor stepping stone", my sister stepped in, smirking. I could tell she was thinking about that scene too. "District 4 will pose a huge threat; but they'll be good allies to begin with." I thought about what she'd said, and was a little angry that she simply answered my question. "Probably, but we'll be able to take her out pretty quickly. If she is that ruthless, she'll participate in the bloodbath. We can simply kill her then; she isn't trained. The girl from 5 is tall, but not strong, and the boy is looking super weak. No threat at all."

My sister grinned. "Heh. Pretty much what I thought. We'll be able to scare the crap out of them in training." I reached my hand into my pocket were I had a leather ribbon with a piece of clothing woven inside of it. And I knew my sister had a similar ribbon. The clothing had been from our sister's uniform, when they sent her bloody body back. I secretly took some of the blood soaked fabric and had made the ribbons. I liked my sister. Even though my mother favored her until she died, she had been nice and caring.

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Mina POV [D3, F, 13]

I stared at the screen when it turned blank, scared out of my skin. Then I turned to my brother. "Drake, you've got to understand. If I'd have Chosen Dust, mother wouldn't have been able to feed the two of you. And if we would've died, you would've too!" Drake simply stared at me with his eyes. He was taller than I was, and he was stronger.

But still I had to take responsibility for him, ensure he'd survive as long as possible into the game. I may look like an eight-year old, but I am really smart. I am able to memorize things very easily, so I can create a database very easily. And since I've been working with scissors and needles most of the time, at least when I'm working in the factories, I have at least some experience with sharp things.

I looked at my younger brother again, who was staring at the pitch-black screen. I wanted him to survive. I really did. This was the least I could do for him in order to make up for what I previously did. I felt tears prick in my eyes, but I held them back. If I'd cry, he'd be even more despaired.

"It's okay", he suddenly whispered, "I understand."He finally made eye contact, and he looked more serious than ever before. "You know we don't stand a chance, do you?" Instead of answering him, I just pulled him into a hug. I tried to express something beyond words: eternal sorrow.

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Tristan POV (D5, M, 14)

After watching the entire ceremony and going over the enemies with my sister and my mentors over and over again, I have been allowed to go to sleep, at least. But even though I am really tired, sleeps avoids me and leaves me thinking. I saw my sister's pained expression whenever she thought no one looked at her, I saw her attempts to raise my spirit, her optimism bordering on a lunatic's happiness, her smiles, her jokes. She was doing everything to make me feel better about my death, which would soon be coming. And hers might come too, even though she still stands a chance.

She is tall and good-looking, so she might get some sponsors. But even if they'd smother her with presents when she was in the arena, her odds to survive were still low. I had tried to remember every tribute, but it wasn't possible. I remembered a ginger haired girl, muscular and with a beautiful porcelain skin, and her brother who was actually pretty young for one that would volunteer, from district 1.

The siblings from 4 were too violent to forget; the way they ran through the crowd, shoving people aside, kicking hem and stomping on them if they fell in their way, only to reach the pedestal first.

And, at last, the twins from 6. They were of different genders, so they had to be fraternal, but they looked very similar. I fell asleep thinking about them, and of course I had a nightmare.

I was chased into the district 4 siblings by a mutation, and escaped, only to be caught by the twins and to die as I couldn't seperate them. I woke up drenched in sweat. At home, I shared a room with my sister, and she always calmed me when I had nightmares; but now, I was alone.

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Eve POV [D4, F, 16]

I watched my brother leaving the wagon to go to sleep, and thought I should do the same; but I had to think some things over, some things I only ever noticed in small traces, but that were now all clear to me. That stupid idiot would get what he deserves in the game; he used me, he simply used me and was going to make me do all the work, and then ask me to kill myself when only the two of us were left. He hurt so many people already, with my help, and I never noticed he just saw me as a tool.

I cared for him! I cared for that bastard; he was my elder brother, my idol, the one I'd die for. And now he betrayed me. But I wouldn't leave his side- I never would! No matter what he did, as long as he survived, I'd be happy too.

Suddenly, my brother entered the wagon again, he came up to me and hugged me: "I'm so thankful I have you, Eve. I'd be scared as hell in your place!" What? Maybe I was wrong. He did care about me. He cared about me! I felt my pulse fastening. 'I'll do anything you want me to, brother', I thought. 'I love you!'

So this was the first chapter of my new little fanfic- my first fanfic. I excuse for grammar or any other mistakes I might've made, English isn't my native language. If you have any suggestions on what should happen next, or something else to critizise, leave a review ;)you can also cast a vote on who should survive if you want... but some characters have already been sentenced to die, and some need to survive- the general storyline and plot is set already.

A/N: Next chapter will follow up quickly, because most people (like me) don't even look at fanfics with only one chapter. I can't guarantee I won't suffer from writer's block at one point, but I'll never guilt-trip this story - pinky finger promise! ;)