1: A normal day
The sun is already shining through my window. I push of my wool covers of my bed and grab Mittens, our black cat, from my bedside. I pet her soothingly so she starts to purr. The noises outside are full of our farm animals in the field. I yawn and get out of bed. I put on a yellow tee, old, baggy shorts, and my boots. I tie the boots up tight and leave my room.
"Cassie; up!" my dad yells to my sister, Cassie. She is twelve-years-old and fairly smart. I almost forgot! Today is the reaping! My sister's first ever reaping too. I quickly run into the hallway, down our steps, and onto the main floor of our house. I run through main floor, but then I stop at the picture of my mom. She died two years ago watching my brother be murdered in what we call The Hunger Games. They are broadcasted all around the districts in Panem. One boy and one girl from each district are put into an arena. The sick part is . . . they fight to the death. Friends vs. friends and enemies vs. enemies. Twenty-three die and one will live on. I have been lucky enough to not be reaping in the two years I have been eligible. I am fourteen now and eighteen is the age that you can no longer be put into the bloodshed.
"I'm up 'ere; getting ready," Cassie calls from upstairs. I quickly sprint into our kitchen to find Ray, Rose, and Spike. Ray and Rose, the twins, are playing with Jack, our border collie. They are the youngest in our family, being seven-years-old. Next, there is Spike, the smart one, always focused on schoolwork rather than house chores. Dad always lets him out of chores. Spike is the middle child with Cassie. Spike is eleven and not twelve though. Next year he will be eligible for the reaping.
I walk over to our fridge and look at the job chart. I guess I can get a few chores in before we leave for the reaping. Maybe I will milk our cow, Lassie. I open the fridge, grab an orange, and peel it quickly. Yum, the tartness is so sweet.
"A. A. A. A. A. A. A. A," screams Ray from the kitchen table. "Can I plea-ease come? I want to hunt some foo' with you," he asks in a low holler.
"Ray my name is not A. It is Aaron and I don't think I'm going hunting today," I say calmly back to him.
"Oh c'mon A-aron," Ray hollers back to me while laughing as he made fun of my name. I give him a stern look and he stops laughing in an instant.
"Only if you stop with the names," I retort back to him. He nods and we set off to the fields.
We walk for about a minute before reaching our barn. The fields that surround our barn are full of farm animals. Sheep, dogs, horses, cows, and even some deer cover the fields. Ray's eyes are mesmerized at all the animals. We finally go inside the barn after looking at the farm animals. I start to milk Lassie as Ray plays around the barn. Once I get one bucket full of milk I head out of the stable.
"Ray!" I scream in terror as I look for him.
"What?" he yells from above the barn. He was just in the chicken coop, messing around.
"Ready to hunt?" I ask him.
"I've never been more ready," he yells as he slides down the ladder wooden ladder to the chicken coop. I quickly run over to my stable and pull open a drawer. I grab five different sized knives and slip them into my belt. Then, I grab a small bow that I used to use when I was younger for Ray. He smiles as I hand him the small bow and a sheath of arrows. We walk out the back door of the barn and set out for a small white fence. I help Ray climb over it and then haul my small body over it as well. I whistle a little tune and my black mustang comes running over to Ray and I.
"This is Bay. She has been my horse ever since I was your age. When you are old enough you will be able to pick a horse for your own," I tell Ray as he watches Bay. He nods and smiles. Ray and I walk deeper and deeper into the fields getting closer and closer to the forest.
"Look," Ray mouths to me. Ray points to a flock of turkeys. I gesture him over to me.
"When I nod; open fire at them," I tell him. "If they chargeā¦," my voice trails off.
"If they charge?" Ray questions to me in terror.
"Run," I say as calmly as I can. I creep silently over to the flock and take out a long dagger. My eyes scan the tall, dried, grass. I pick up a medium sized stone, throw it above me and smack it with my dagger. I nod at Ray to open fire. He pulls back an arrow and shoots, but misses. He slowly charges the next arrow and aims. Ray lets go of the string and the arrows flies through the air and hits a flying turkey in the neck. I whistle and Bay comes running toward me. Ray runs over to me in happiness.
"I got one! I got one!" Ray keeps cheering. I grab the turkey's rough feet and put it on Bay. I then lift Ray up onto to Bay and climb onto her myself.
"Yaw," I yell as I kick her thighs. Bay starts to run Ray and I back home.
