Chapter One
A light breeze carries my hair around my head in a splendor of black as I dance on tiptoes around a golden field that stretches for miles in every direction. This field I know quite well. I know every different hue of grain and every hidden pebble. I spend almost all of my dreams here. Here is comfort. Here is safe. It only takes the short amount of time for me to fall asleep to transport me here. No matter how rough Panem is, or how bad anxiety gets to me around the time of the Hunger Games, I know I'll always have this sanctuary.
That is when I hear a familiar voice softly echo across the field, it sounds distant but I can understand what it is saying. "Silver," It says my name and I start to dance some more as the breeze begins to pick up. "Silver," My name grows louder and my golden field's color begins to drain from it, "Silver!" my eyes flutter open to the face of my father shaking me awake. "Honey, It is time to wake up."
"Okay," I say as I stretch out my long limbs to the four corners of my bed with no intention of waking up.
"Right now, Silver," He reaffirms.
"Okay," I drag out the word for as long as I can and swing my legs off the bed and sit up.
"I'm going to need you to go to the Outlet and pick me up some groceries while I get everything here ready for today," He says and walks out of my room, he's still in ear shot because next I hear, "I left a list on the table of the things I need. Baron and your mother are going to be over for dinner." By the way he says my brother's name compared to the words 'my mother' you'd think he was talking about polar opposites, which just may be the case. With my father being divorced from my mother, It split the family apart. I naturally leaned toward my father while Baron went the opposite route. I rub my eyes and slump myself into the chair at my vanity.
Today's the day of the Reaping. I just woke up and my stomach is already starting to churn just thinking about it. I stare at the girl in the mirror. My mother always used to say I resembled my father. With my dark brown eyes, high cheek bones, and abnormal height for a girl there's no way I couldn't be his daughter. But I did have two gene pools to pull from and I got my slenderness from her. I like to tell myself that the only thing I inherited from her was my body type but I'm probably more like her than I realize, which doesn't sit well with me, and I begin to second guess the cause of my restless stomach.
I lean as far as I can to my left and reach for the door that my father left open. With the tips of my narrow fingers I fling it closed and return my gaze to the mirror. I push on my protuberant collarbones; like that will make them less noticeable, as I realize what time it really is. If I'm supposed to go to the store and be back for dinner I should have left ten minutes ago. I stand up and in one motion slip out of my night gown. It makes a material nest on the floor and I maneuver my limbs into noticeably worn black shorts and a loose grey shirt. My knees are scuffed, like usual, and I finger my hair into its usual hairstyle, a messy bun which looks a lot like the pile of nightgown on the floor. I apply black eyeliner generously and exit my bedroom. My father makes sure I have a list he scrawled out in his barely legible hand writing and I exit the house, yelling goodbyes to my father as I trollop down the stairs.
The stairs lead from our front door, which is located on the second story of a building. The building is three houses built on top of each other and is common in District Two. The people who live below us are an elderly couple whose grandson visits them weekly. The people above us are newlyweds with a baby on the way. Although the way our house is built may be common, one thing we have that most people don't is personal exterior stairs. With these, I don't have to exit through the building. Stairs emerge straight from each front door to the street below, and I get to thankfully avoid unwanted conversations.
Russet Flamsteed, my best friend, her house is built similar to mine but instead of personal exterior stairs she has interior stairs which all the tenants in the complex use. She constantly has to fight off annoyances.
I take a look at the list: Curry, onion, and garlic. Just by these three ingredients I know exactly what my father plans on preparing for our little family reunion. He is going to whip up his famous rice dish. I never learned how to pronounce the name correctly when I was young so I labeled it Courage Rice and called the spicy dish that ever since. It may be the day of the Reaping but I at least have one thing to be excited for.
I head off to the Outlet, a cobblestone square speckled with stores wide open for business. Merchants here are reasonably priced, and willing to bargain if needed. I've never haggled with a store owner on the count of the steady flow of money my family has always seemed to have had. For as long as I can remember my father has worked for District Two. My father is a mason just like various others in our district, but he is the best of the best. He's extremely skilled in using stones and bricks to create buildings and other structures. He's constantly being called upon by the mayor of District Two to preform countless tasks which sadly takes him away for a few months at a time. I enjoy the time I have to myself but I enjoy hanging out with his sarcastic sense of humor and witty personality. I can tell he feels bad about leaving me because every time he gets a new assignment he proposes that I tag along. I refuse every time but that doesn't deter his relentless offers, he was never one to give up. I do not fit in with the majority of District Two. When the brutish men and women are done slaving away laying bricks all day, they secretly train for the Hunger Games. They want to be picked and have that chance to rip apart their competitors.
I especially do not belong in District Two, there are stone quarries here that blotch the mountains our district is known for. Each quarry usually has a corresponding village that is based around it. My family lives in Pinnacle, but my father has visited each village at least once. Since our resources are so abundant our villages aren't spread far apart. They are all at least two hours apart from one another which makes travelling short enough to be considered easy but just far enough to still be annoying. I somehow think the Capitol planned out everything just to annoy us, to make sure we don't forget who is in charge, and who will always be in charge.
There is only one justice building per district and ours is right next to the outlet and towers high into the sky, even though no one has even made it into unless they're a tribute. It's used for official business involving the District. Children also go to the justice building to sign up for tesserae. The tributes also bid farewell to their loved ones before being taken to the Capitol.
I make my way through the maze of people and up to the counter of a store that sells the ingredients that I need. The woman on the other side of the counter is blonde and her eyes are sunken in, like she's been working too hard and sleeping too little. I recognize her features seeing them on me before after I stayed up into the night to watch the moon during its biggest stage. I sat in awe, face plastered to my window, as my eyes traced every visible crater.
I ask for what I need and pay her in return. I give her a few extra dollars to help her out and leave with a smile. I contemplate on whether or not I should visit my brother and see how he's holding up, and decide against it because I know my father will be waiting for me.
My brother and I were never always on good terms. We used to loathe each other. It started out as just sibling rivalry but then our parents got divorced and we felt like we had to choose sides. Me with our father and him with our mother. The rift between us seemed beyond repair. That is until one day he got me a present. Out of nowhere he thrust an object wrapped in cream paper with little pastel roses on it all tied with a silky ribbon into my arms. I was genuinely shocked. When I opened it and saw a book of fairy tales, I immediately forgave him. Just like that, a bridge was made over that cavern that seemed so impassable. But it was never the same, remnants of that rift will always be there. I never knew if the present was his own idea, or if it originated from his fiancée's head, Plieone, who always seems to have good ideas and acts as his conscious more often than not. I didn't care and I didn't dare ask for fear the bridge would crumble.
I used to carry the book with me everywhere in hope that something dull in the life I was living would throw me into the pages. One year I took it to a reaping, thinking it would protect me, and if my name was called a dashing prince would jump out from the ink and whisk me away to a different land; to a land without Districts, a capitol and especially to a land without the Hunger Games.
A flash of red catches my eye and I realize it is Russet Flamsteed with her fiery locks. She's coming out of her complex with an empty woven basket. "Russet!" I shout and wave my hand in the air. She sees me and smiles sweetly as the distance between us begins to disappear.
"Hey Silver, did you go shopping?" She asks as she slides some strands of hair behind her ear.
"Yeah, my father's making his rice,"
"I'm jealous. I wish my family could cook as well as he can,"
"I know, you're mother is a disaster in the kitchen,"
"Oh I know, don't remind me. I'm the one who has to live with her!" Then there's a pause as we both remember what day it is.
"I'm glad we don't have to take out any tesserae," I manage to spit out. Then realize how stupid it was of me to bring up the anything related to the one thing I hated the most.
"I know. I always feel bad for other districts when I think of how hard it is for them just to survive in their own homes," She looks down at the ground, as if she's ashamed of us being so wealthy. It's not our fault we live in District 2, and it's not like we can jump borders and help out other districts. That'd be considered rebellion and we would surely be executed along with our families. "So I have something for you," She says and she plunges her hand into the pocket of the sweater she's wearing. She pulls out a silver heart on a dainty chain. It catches the sunlight and radiates beauty. I make a noise that's a combination of a gasp and an awe.
"For me? Really?" and she insists and I clasp it around my neck.
"A silver heart for Silver," She laughs at her own play on words. "Think of it as a lucky charm as it is Reaping day and all."
"Don't worry. What are the chances of us being called? We hardly even have our names in there." At the age of twelve, one's name gets added to a plethora of names in which one boy and one girl between the ages of twelve and eighteen will be picked at random to participate in the annual Hunger Games. One can also sign up to take tesserae if their family is struggling for food, they can have their name added additional times to the reaping, once per family member, in exchange for an equal number of tesserae. Once this is done, they can collect oil and grain rations once every month for a year. My father's job and social status has always supplied us with enough food to sustain ourselves, so I have never had to take tesserae and neither has Russet. So we only have our names in there six times because we're both only seventeen and our names go into the reaping once every year since age twelve. I hug and thank her for my good luck charm and we part ways. I fiddle with the heart between my thumb and pointer finger all the way home.
My father takes my grocery bag from me when I walk in and starts to cook immediately. I reside to my room where I see a pastel pink polka dotted tea length dress and tights laid out and a pair of white ballet flats that sit at the end of my bed. I begin to think that my father had to have had help picking this out and begin looking around my room for my mother but to my relief come up with nothing.
"Isn't it pretty?" a voice from behind startles me and I turn around to see Plieone. She's all dolled up with a white cocktail dress on, and pearls. She's wearing a big white sun hat with a bouquet of tiny maroon flowers that decorate it. "I picked it out for you because your dad is hopeless when it comes to this sort of stuff. Do you like it?"
"Yeah," I lie because I can't stand letting people down especially to people I care about. I've always liked Plieone and I admire how confident she is all the time. So I lie and tell her it's gorgeous and it's just what I imagined I'd be wearing even though I hate pink and dresses in general. I'm happier in my cut-offs and loose fitting shirts. I was never one of the princess types, unless I'm reading about them. Against my will, I'm zipped up into the pink contraption and Plieone adds more makeup to my face than I've ever had on. At the last minute, she decides white gloves would be perfect and I'm forced to wear those too. I feel a little too grown up in this costume and I don't feel like myself at all. I don't recognize anything besides my dark eyes when I look at myself in the mirror. My hair is down and it's so curly and long that I'm constantly trying to get it out of my face. I'm not used to it being out of its usual bun.
I pry myself away from the mirror and enter the kitchen. My mother and brother are already here. I can tell how much it makes my mother happy to see me so dressed up. They're ready as well. Baron is wearing a white suit with a maroon bow tie and his dark hair is slicked back. I didn't notice that he matches Plieone until now. They really are a handsome couple. Our whole family is good looking actually.
My mother and father keep distance from each and speak to each other only when needed, which is rare. I've never seen them not mad when one another are around because they split up before I was even four. I've never really seen a functional relationship work besides Baron and Plieone, which is a different situation entirely, because Baron flies through girls like it's a sport of some sorts. I was surprised when he asked Plieone to marry him and am still surprised she can stay with him. But I shake all that out of my head and take a seat at the dinner table.
Father brings out a meal of salad, rice, and roasted chicken. I skip the salad, nibble at the chicken but eat a big portion of the rice. After all is cleaned up we hear a knock at the door, which can only mean that the Reaping is about to begin. It's a peacekeeper, which is the police force of the capitol, and he orders us to the town square. We do as we're told.
With me being the only eligible person from my family I am the only one who has to sign in. There are two lines- one for boys and one for girls. I join the fellow girls from my District and when I reach the front of the line I am forced to offer up my hand and a peacekeeper pricks my finger for blood and presses it on a card with my name and picture on it. I know exactly how this process goes, having to complete it a few times before. You sign in, take a spot in the square luckily I find Russet and we stand together, and wait for the Mayor to come on stage. His entrance is signaled by the Capitol anthem.
Mayor Gamos hobbles onto the stage, he's a short box man with grey hair, and he proceeds to tell us what we already know- The history of Panem.
He tells us how the various districts rebelled against the Capitol, primarily due to being oppressed by the government that ruled over all the districts. It is unknown how long the rebellion lasted or the exact number of casualties on either side (although the Capitol claims that for every dead Capitol citizen, two rebels died), but by the end of the conflict, the Capitol had quelled the rebellion, defeating twelve of the districts and obliterating the thirteenth entirely. In the wake of the rebellion, the Capitol established the Hunger Games. The event served two purposes. The first was to demonstrate the overwhelming power the Capitol had over the districts by taking their children by force and forcing them to slay each other in a no-rules competition. It was proof that the Capitol's control over its people was so inexorable and unstoppable that they could do something so sadistic as to force the children of their conquered foes to slay each other in a battle royale. The second purpose was purely for entertainment. The Hunger Games are a nationally televised event in the same vein as a reality show, its entrants practically considered celebrities and the events themselves dramatized and glorified.
A lot of the people in District Two absolutely love the Hunger Games and they pretend to love the Capitol because the Capitol loves anyone who loves them. They are more lenient to give a little extra food to any "pets" they might have in the districts. District two is known as the pets of the capitol for this reason. People always sucking up, and how they can't stand up for themselves makes me sick. But I don't have any room to talk because if the time came I wouldn't be able to stand up for myself because I would be executed along with my family for an act of rebellion, and that scares me. I'm scared of what might slip off of my naturally rebellious tongue. That's why I stick to myself a lot, hardly talking to anyone, besides Russet.
Mayor Gamos finishes up and introduces the person who will serve as a trainer to the tributes who will be called up onto the stage today. The trainer is a tall man, he's far away but I can tell he is quite handsome. Russet nudges me "I'll volunteer if it means I get to spend time with him," she whispers and we giggle, because I agree he's quite handsome. His name turns out to be Oliver. Then he introduces the escort of District two. The escort is the person who is assigned to take the tributes to the capitol and make sure your ride there is nothing short of fantastic. A lady named Roman floats onto the stage. She has pale green skin and when she smiles it takes up most of her face. She's a little intimidating because you have to be confident to pull off the look she has.
"Hello, District 2!" She shouts and is returned by a tremendous applause "Are you all ready for the 105th Annual Hunger Games?" another applause shakes the town square. "Let's get started then," There are two glass bowls on the stage, one for the boy's names and one for the girls. She makes her way over to the one on the right of the stage. "Ladies first," She says and drops her green hand into the pile of folded papers. My name is on six of those papers and I grab Russet's hand and close my eyes.
Then just like in my dream I hear my name off in the distance and it forces my eyes open. She called my name. I am the female tribute for the 105th annual Hunger Games.