Chapter One

I wake to Denalee screaming. I'm startled and am up quickly, knife in my hand. It was my bad habit to sleep with it by my side at all times, but it had come in handy on three occasions. One was with an intruder. He came to steal our food supplies, because he and his wife were starving. Lucky for him I was groggy and only got him in the shoulder. Another time, I heard a rabid raccoon trying to attack our goat and having the knife handy made it so we were able to save her. The third time was not too long ago when a wild dog found its way into our room and I was able to kill it before it attacked my baby sister, Beluna. Three times, my family practically treated me like royalty, when really, I was just thinking quickly.

I run to Denalee's room, which he shared with my other brothers, Toby and Bresnen. Toby is already on his feet, Bresnen rubbing his tiny eyes, when I finally reach Denalee's bed side. He's panicked a little, breathing heavily. "What's wrong, Lee?" Toby almost sounds mad when he asks. I would be too, only I suddenly am sad. I remember what day it is, and I can't blame my brother for being scared. He's only eight, but he still remembers what today means.

"Toby," I say quietly. "It's today." I sit on Denalee's bed and wrap my arm around him.

"I just always see her on the day she died, and I'm scared I'll have to see it again." I know he means Constance. I know he means the day she was killed in the 64th Annual Hunger Games. It was only four years ago, but it's fresh in all of our minds, who are old enough. The youngest three don't remember. Bresnen was only two at the time. Camille was only a few months old, and Beluna had only recently been conceived.

No. Denalee has every right to be frightened. Today was reaping day for us. It was another chance for another one of his older siblings to be plucked up by the Capitol and sacrificed. Constance was only twelve, two years older than I was, when she was reaped. She made it past the initial bloodbath, but that meant there was extra time to watch one of the Careers cut her up until she died. Being the only death at the time, she was the center of camera attention. We all saw every second.

In District Nine, where we live, we're not usually winners. We could be off worse, like those in District Twelve, where half of their kids are starving to death. Although, we're not like the Career Districts, One, Two, and Four. They train and usually always get enough to eat. For those in Nine, we tend to barely get by. We go hungry sometimes, but we never have to starve. Well, most of us. We have our own poor people. And many do starve. But I have heard from and seen the kids from District Twelve, Eleven… The ones where there never is enough for much of the population. Comparatively, we're spoiled.

In Nine, we have a part of the district called the Spine. This is our poor location which unfortunately is over half of the population. I have heard some nicknames for other districts' poor parts. Like Twelve. They have theirs, called the Seam. Ours is the Spine, for two reasons. The first is that it literally runs up the middle of most of the district. Two, this is where most of the workers live. And ironically, the workers are the ones struggling most.

In District Nine, our industry is grain. We don't actually start working it until we're fifteen, though. We learn about how important it is, where it goes, and basically the general idea, but we never get firsthand experience with it until fifteen. Unlike kids in District Seven, where they work with all the tools of lumber from early on. We have grain fields all over our district. The homes and shops are almost all in the areas where the Spine is. Although, they stop calling it the Spine once it gets towards the lowest part of the district. Then it's just called the Village. The homes, the shops. All are a part of the Village. There, they never hunger. Ever.

With kids from the Spine, there are hardships. It used to be that the fathers and mothers would go out to work in the fields to try and feed their families. But the trouble is, there are so many people in the fields that they cannot pay the workers properly to feed the families. So they started people in building and repairing the factories that took care of the crops, where people were used to help pack and get the grain ready for shipping. But there are so many people, these new jobs made no difference. So then they made it law that only one person per household could work in the fields. It usually is the father. This became a hardship, for many families had mouths to feed, and the loss of the second income, even if meager, meant less money, which meant they would starve.

The solution came in pieces. Some women took on the jobs of making the things the men would use to work. Everything from straw hats to their uniforms, even making the boxes that grain was packed in. The Capitol agreed, mainly because everyone was starving to death and they didn't want that. This process took years and years to work through, but by the time my parents were working, it was stable and efficient enough. But for my family, it's never enough.

My parents have had eight children. One was killed in the Hunger Games, the Capitol's horrible punishment for the rebellion in the Dark Days. One works as a mechanic's apprentice until he is able to go out in the fields. That's my brother, Toby. Though, they might just keep him as a mechanic in the factories. One less field worker, and not many able to handle the mechanics part. He turns eighteen in six weeks, which will mean he will find his permanent job. The six other children range from three to fourteen. Only three old enough to get tesserae in exchange for putting our names in more times for the reaping. Ennetta, my younger sister, has only just become old enough. For her first reaping, her name is in ten times. Mine is in thirty times this year. Toby has his name in fifty-eight times. Even though the escorts always say, "May the odd be ever in your favor," they never are in my family. Constance had her name in ten times her first year.

The tesserae helps. It keeps us from starving, since my father only earns enough money for a week of our family's needs in a month. My mother has a sewing business and makes linens and clothes and such, all things needed, but cheaper than the Village's clothes shop. The tesserae make up for what my father and mother cannot provide for us. Toby pitches in what he has, which has helped a lot. Now, we don't starve. Usually. There have been months where the money is short, not just for us but for all, and we cannot always feed the little ones. Toby and I skip our portions to help feed them and our parents. They all need to stay strong.

The lucky thing about District Nine is that the electric fence around us is broken up. You'd be crazy to try and go into the lands outside, but it's never needed. My family lives at the top of the Spine, closest to the fence. We get wild animals all the time. This helps us get food. We're allowed to kill the animals as long as it is in the boundaries of the district. In times of need, this is exactly what we pray for. Whether it is a wild dog or a wild turkey, we hope it ventures in so we can have our chance at claiming it. Since I am the one handy with a knife, I usually do the killing.

My family laughs at my little place. I'm small for my age. Ennetta is already my height and still growing. But this has always been useful. I have been quick up a tree if trouble finds me. Quick on my feet. I can outrun anyone and easily tree myself. I don't mind the trees. Nice protection. But at school, it was a problem. No running. No trees. But bullies became a problem. Always tried to rough me up. But bless my father's soul, he found out how to keep me safe.

When I was seven, he taught me how to handle knives. Now, I keep one with me at all times. Between protection and hunting, it's useful. And I'm allowed, as long as I never use them on people at school. I only had to once before people stayed clear of me. And honestly, it was one of the most treasured moments of my life.

I was ten and in the play yard when Xander came to me. He was three years older and twice my size. He wanted the raccoon pelt in my bag that I was going to sell after school. All it took was one punch for me to pull out the knife. He laughed. I threw. I have precise aim. Down to the centimeter. I threw it so it would barely miss him, but fly by his ear. If he had turned his head, it would have killed him. But he didn't, but he wet himself in fear as the knife almost stuck him. People didn't mess with me after that.

After my quick and precise learning of skills with a knife, my family became aware that I can pick things up quickly. I'm what my father calls the little robot. Take time to teach me and I'll get it down pact in no time. Like my mother's quilts. It took her years to learn the complex designs. It took me three weeks. I take her place in sewing and such after school to help her when she needs to tend to the children. I'm faster, anyway. But show me anything, I'll have it down. I'm already handy in many things, though I'm almost too young to claim to do any of it and actually earn money for it. The only thing people in District Nine know me for is my skill with a knife, mainly because of the game that I can be reliable to kill in one throw.

I shake my head dreamily. I had almost forgotten I was still here, with Denalee. He was still shaking, afraid. But after a while of sitting there, he is calm again. He sighs. "I hope no one we know goes this year."

I nod. I can't help but hope the same. I'm worried about the three in my family who can go. Toby could easily be reaped this year. And I can, too. I know for a fact that Toby has his name in more than any other boy in the district. The next largest family consists of six children, with a mother now deceased. And even then, there were a couple years where tesserae weren't needed to be taken out by all the children eligible.

I glance out the tiny window and see the early rays of sunlight. I sigh. Might as well get up. "Okay, you two," I say, looking from Denalee to Bresnen. "You go get washed up and such so Mama doesn't have to nag." I wait until they leave before I turn to Toby. "What do you suppose?"

I see a flicker of fear in his grey eyes. "All I know is that the odds are not in our family's favor." This is true, of course, and not just because Constance was reaped four years ago and killed. She was not the first in our family. My mother's older sister was reaped, too. And so was a cousin of ours, Henston. Both were killed. Having family reaped doesn't protect you. In fact, the only safeguard a victor has is that they are never reaped once they have won. But their siblings? Cousins? Children? All of them are likely to be reaped if their name is in enough.

I sigh. "You don't think one of us could be picked, do you?"

Toby shrugs. "Let's pray not. But if one of us is…" He doesn't say more, but I'm scared. Two girls and one boy. If Toby was reaped, he'd have to go. Not that he wouldn't be okay. He's opposite of me. He's nearly six feet tall, thin but strong and built. But there's a chance that my little sister could be reaped, and that would be awful. Ennetta has always been somewhat sickly. She catches things quickly and is not very strong. Even though she is already growing taller than me, and quickly, she is nowhere as strong as I. She'd not even make it past the Bloodbath.

"Toby, if Ennetta is reaped, I'm volunteering."

Toby gives me an alarmed look. "What?"

"You heard me," I say, somewhat annoyed. But then I frown. "I can't watch another one of my sisters die. Not when I could have saved her. Not when I know I have a chance. Maybe."

Toby looks me over then he laughs. "Well, I suppose you could stand a chance. Miracle Baby always seems to get by."

I smile at this reference. In our family, we all have little pedestals, or labels as some would call them, where we are placed in the scheme of things. Beluna is the Sorrowful Hope baby, since she was born after Constance's death and was what brought us back together. Camille is the Bookworm, because her intelligence exceeds her age by years. Bresnen is the Endurance Child, meaning both physically and mentally, he endures longer than us all. Denalee is the Crafty One, because he likes to invent and create things. I learn things quickly, but Denalee can make things, from weapons to boats, tools to inventions to keep out the mice.

Ennetta is the Art Wonder, because she can write stories and music, paint just about anything, and is our own little decorator. Constance was the Social Butterfly, because everyone who knew her loved her, and she always was everyone's friend. Her death deeply disturbed everyone in our district. Toby is the Foundation Child, because he does all the things as the oldest to keep us all afloat. He sacrifices everything to make sure things work out. And me? I'm the Miracle Baby.

It seems almost self-explanatory, but not really. At first, it is. I was born seven weeks early, and I should have died. I was born blue and not breathing. But my father took one look at me and had said, "No. I know she is going to be okay." Since I was born at home, he was the doctor. And he pumped air in my tiny body, while Toby and Constance were sitting huddled together nearby. After a few minutes, I had gained color and started crying on my own.

My mother had asked, "Is the baby truly crying? Is that really her?" Toby and Constance had been smiling and answered her with shouts of joy, "Truly!" My father had smiled and for some reason liked the sound of the word 'truly', but to make it more unique; they added an 'e'. I became Truely Alina Stellar. My family liked to also describe me as 'true starlight', because essentially, that's what my names meant. And it seemed suiting and appropriate that during the night after I was born, my family sat outside and was able to see all the stars stretched out before them. The stars had never been so bright before, and they knew then that I was their Miracle Baby and that my name was perfect.

But then I started to grow up, and my label became more suiting. Though I was small, I was talented. I was supposed to have some brain damage from birth and other such things, but I thrived. I've done well in school and been able to manage most tasks either with practiced experience or surprising natural ability. I've tapped into most other's specialties, while acquiring my own. Like climbing. But being how I'm two inches shy of being five feet tall, and barely tip the scale at ninety pounds, flying into trees isn't hard. It's a miracle I can do all that I do.

I give a sigh. "I wish this was your last year, Toby."

He nods. "Me too. But it's okay."

"No, it's not. You already have more names in than anyone in our district. Next year, you're going to have even more. The odds aren't in your favor at all."

Toby shakes his head. "No more than you, Truely. By the time you're my age, your name will be in a good six times more."

I scowl. "Who cares about me! The family needs you, Toby."

His eyebrows go up, defensive and a little peeved. "And it doesn't need you? Truely, you help bring in just as much, if not more money. And you make the kids feel safe at night." He's nodding towards the knife still in my hand. "We're both important. I can be just as worried, if not more, about you. I already had one little sister die. I'd lose my mind if I saw it happen again."

This leaves me silent again. But after a while, I just sigh. "Then let's hope none of our names are reaped today."