Wildfire: Chapter 1
Let's pretend that Katniss died and Peeta committed suicide, and the Capitol won. The Hunger Games are still continuing. But since it's the 76th Hunger Games, the Games right after the second uprising, the arena will be double the size as the previous 75 years. I know, I know. LAME PUNISHMENT. But hey. The crappy updater is back! And I'm pretty proud of this, because this chapter is about 2100 words or so. Not sure how much exactly. Hopefully all of the other chapters will be this long, at least the reapings. Each chapter about the reapings will cover what happens before the reaping, during the reaping, and the goodbyes after the reapings. This is my first Hunger Games and Clique crossover, hope you like it. If you hate it, well- suck it up. So yeah, basically the Clique characters live in Panem- in the districts. And they get reaped, and blah blah blah. And now, we interrupt your regularly scheduled program for a formal apology from Anastasia Bree. Disclaimed: I don't own anything, except for anything you might notice that was different from the Clique and Hunger Games books and the really long author's notes that you should really read.
I'm so sorry that I haven't update for at least 2 months! I will update Wave Hello next, and then I'll announce the winner of the OC contest. Good job everyone! :) But I have a legit excuse for not updating, besides the fact that I am just a crappy updater. First, I was grounded. Then, my family went on vacation to Yellowstone, in Wyoming. I was there for TEN DAYS with no wi-fi, internet, or cell phone signal. So there's my legit excuse. But if you feel like coming after me with pitchforks, torches, and whatnot, go ahead. *bows head in shame* But...now that school's back, (today was my first day) I'll get to write more because I'll use the excuse to do homework on the computer to write! Thanks for being so patient!
Kiss-kiss,
Anastasia
Alicia Rivera, age 13, District 1
I get out of bed when I see the sunlight filtering through my curtains. I groan- today is reaping day. I've been trained my whole life for the Hunger Games- but not by choice. My mother and father forced me to train since I was able to hold a knife. So for the past ten years, I've trained to kill other kids. My dream come true. I force myself into the lavish white silken dress that my mother had a maid deliver to me when I was asleep-reaping clothes. I hate the Games, everything about it. It's so barbaric, forcing mere children to fight to the death. Yet my parents adore it. I select a tasteful strand of pearls and adorn a pair of glittering diamond earrings. Seeing my lifestyle, you would hardly believe I lived in District 1. District 1 is wealthier than most; favored by the Capitol for our luxury items. I'm painting my lips with red color as a maid enters my room.
"Ms. Rivera, your parents are expecting you for breakfast." The maid says, keeping her head bowed and her eyes trained in her boring white flats.
"Thank you, Agatha. I will be there shortly," I say, offering the quiet woman a kind smile. Agatha nods once before scurrying down the hall again. I groan as I force my feet to take me to the dining room, where my parents are enjoying their breakfast and are already tuned in to the CapitolNet television program. My mother smiles as I sit down to my croissant.
"Good morning, Alicia darling. Are you ready for the Games? I hope you'll volunteer this year." My father immediately says without looking away from Claudius Templesmith. I stare at him in disbelief, my mouth hanging open in horror. When I don't respond, both my parents raise an eyebrow and look at me. I was unable to control myself anymore. "YOU WANT ME TO VOLUNTEER TO BE MURDERED IN A BARBARIC CRUEL FIGHT TO THE DEATH ON LIVE TV!" I shouted, quite shocking my parents. My mother gives me a disapproving look.
"Alicia- I'm warning you. If you don't volunteer this year, you will find yourself in the streets." My father says- his face devoid of any emotion. My eyes widen and I scream; long drawn out sound that doesn't affect my parents at all as they sit there glaring at me stoically. I grip my butter knife and fling it at my father. I'm not particularly good at throwing knives, so I miss him by a few inches. I stomp off while kicking off my white heels, hearing faint mutterings from both my parents.
"Len, that was a bit harsh."
"I'm sorry Nadia, but her words were just not acceptable."
"Yes, but now she's going to hate you for the rest of your life."
I try to steady my breathing as anger surges through me. Fuck that son of a bitch. I slammed the door behind me and immediately collapsed on my bed. Fuck. I calmed down enough to call my only friend- a airheaded blonde named Olivia Ryan from training. I began shouting into the phone as soon as I heard Olivia pick up on the other line.
"THEY'RE FORCING ME TO VOLUNTEER THIS YEAR!" I shouted.
"Volunteer for what?" I rolled my eyes at Olivia's stupid question and her perkiness.
"THE HUNGER GAMES, YOU IDIOT!"
"Oh...the Games! So that's what you meant!" I smack myself on the forehead at Olivia's stupidity.
"If I don't volunteer or get reaped, they'll throw me out!"
"Ooohh, that's harsh."
"No, it's plain stupid! Fuck that son of a bitch!"
"Well, good luck. Mother wants to get me to get some last minute training in- just in case I get reaped."
"Well, see you at reaping Olivia." I say, all of my anger changing to dread and despair. I already knew I would be in the Games. So I might as well make my last few hours of freedom useful. I sat down at my writing desk and pulled a piece of pristine white vanilla-scented stationery. I carefully dipped the gold nib of my favorite gold fountain pen into a small glass pot of gold ink. Then, touching pen to paper; I began to write my will.
I, Alicia Rivera, leave all of my possessions to my friend Olivia Ryan. Leave nothing for my parents , Len and Nadia Rivera.
There. Satisfied, I copied my will on to two other pieces of stationery. One was to be given to my lawyer, another to my good-for-nothing parents, and the last one was to be given to Olivia. I wove my long thick raven hair into a fishtail braid to as I tried to calm my racing heart. I was going to die. I was going to die young, and I would die a long, painful death at the hand of another adolescent. Once my heart was no longer racing, I grabbed a piece of the carefully folded paper and stomped down the hall to my father's study. When I banged the door open upon entering, my father was busy signing important forms and whatnot, as the mayor of District 1. I reached over his suit-encased shoulder and slammed my will on his desk, directly on top of his documents. "What's this, Alicia?" I heard him ask. I didn't answer, but just slammed the door closed as I stormed out of the study.
I returned to my room and mindlessly sat at my vanity, toying with different jars of lip color and face paint. If I was going to die, I would die doing what I do best. Looking beautiful. I carefully ran a brush through my black curls, slowly evening them out into waves. I then carefully powdered my face and began coating my flawless olive-hued Spanish skin with various blushes and bronzers. Then I carefully traced my big brown eyes with gold eyeliner. I finally reached for a jar of luscious cherry red lip color, and began painting the thick oily concoction on my full lips. I would die beautiful. Once my makeup was complete, I decided to ditch the gaudy white heels I had left in the dining room and opt for gold strappy wedges instead. I also wrapped a gold sash around my dress to match. I adorned my hair with a golden circlet, also pinning a gold pin onto my shoulder, a flame. Alicia Rivera, was a beautiful flame. I hadn't realized that I took so long to get ready. Sure enough, my mother herself came to my door.
"Alicia, it's time to leave. We don't want to be late for reaping."
"Coming."
When I walked outside clutching Olivia's version of my will, Mother gasped. Her eyes filled with tears and her hand flew to her carefully painted red pout.
"Alicia...you look so beautiful…" She said, choking out the words. I gave her a cold smirk and replied, "If I'm going to die, I will die beautiful." Then I turned on my heel and stalked to the door before she could say any more.
On the ride to town square, I don't look at either Mother or Father. A cold silence settled between us, like snow settling in a hollow. My father exits and makes his way up to the stage. My mother exits and gives my hand a squeeze before making her way into the crowd of family and ineligibles. I feel a prick of pain as the Peacekeeper sitting behind the table takes a bit of my blood. I'm herded into a group of female 13s, exchanging terse nods with a few girls before seeing Olivia Ryan. I jam my will into her lithe fingers and face the stage as my father begins to read the Treaty of Treason. I zone out as her reads the same old speech given every year. Then it's time for reaping. Shirley, District 1's escort, accepts the microphone. Her tower of posh neon yellow curls are topped by a tiny glittering tiara, and her eyelids are shadowed in a spring green color. A tasteful aqua color lines her wide green eyes. Her lips are swamp green, contrasting starkly against her pure white powdered face. She looks like a circus freak, matching in all green with her neon green suit and evergreen pumps. But then again, they all look like mutants in the Capitol.
"Ladies first!" She giggles, teetering over to the glass ball that holds the girls' names. I cross my fingers and pray that it's me, so I don't have to volunteer. Shirley's green talons unfold the paper slip and read out the name in a crystal clear voice.
"Olivia Ryan!" What?! Olivia's stunned, and on the verge of tears. She takes a step forward, but I hold her back. My hand shoots into the air.
"I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!" I shout, as loud as I can.
Silence.
Immediately, the crowd of 13 year old girls parts so I can go to the stage. I tread slowly, my feet dragging. Olivia's wide innocent baby blue eyes are swimming with tears, but I meet her eyes with mine, sending a telepathic message. 'It's okay, Olivia.' As I mount the stage, Shirley forces her hand into mine, shaking it wildly.
"Congratulations to...er…what was your name darling?"
Dumbly, I stare out in shock at the sea of well-dressed people. "Alicia Rivera." I say, my voice flat and lifeless. I can sense my father smiling behind me. I whip around and slap him- hard. The whole of District 1 gasps audibly. A pair of Peacekeepers restrain my arms from behind. I thrash violently.
"LET GO OF ME YOU ASSHOLES!" I scream as I kick and bite the Peacekeepers. My father signals to them, and they release me reluctantly. "Sorry, my daughter is a bit...tempered." He chuckles.
"You can say that again," Shirley mutters, but since she was still holding the mircophone to her pastel green lips, everyone heard her. Idiot. "Congratulations to Alicia Rivera, tribute of District 1!" District 1 cheers, clapping and hooting loudly. I manage a feeble smile as I lock eyes with Olivia. I barely notice at Shirley stumbles to the glass ball that hold's the boys' names and reaches in for a slip.
"Joshua Hotz!"
Who the hell is that?
I'm stunned to see the Spanish boy from training walk towards the stage. Joshua Hotz and I never spoke; never acknowledged each other. I recognize only his appearance. Olive skin- just like mine, chocolate brown eyes- just like mine, thick wavy inky black hair- just like mine, and full red lips- just like mine. He's like...my twin. I stick my hand out to meet his for the handshake. Shirley grasps our arms and raises them.
"I give you, the tributes of District 1! ALICIA RIVERA AND JOSHUA HOTZ!"
My father sits silently on the edge of the couch- as far away from me as possible. My mother is silently weeping, her narrow shoulders shaking. They wanted me to volunteer. So why is Mother crying? We sit there in an awkward silence until the Peacekeeper comes in. My father turns to me just before he exits. "Good luck, Alicia. Show them what Alicia Rivera is made of." Then he's gone. Forever.
My mother dabs at her skillfully made up eyes with a silk hankie and presses a gold wristlet into my palm. "Your token." She says, in some way of explanation, giving me a sad smile. She plants a kiss on my forehead before leaving. "I love you, Alicia. Please come back." I nod, even though in my heart I know I can't win these Games. My mother hurries out, and I take the time to inspect the bracelet. Engraved on it, are two words. Forever beautiful. Then, the door opens, and Olivia is led in. She wastes no words, briskly walking over and hugging me.
"Alicia, I know you can win."
"No, I can't win!"
"Yes you can! You're the best at hand-to-hand combat!"
"So? There are girls from Districts 2 and 4 who know how to kill you twenty different ways with a knife! I don't stand a chance!"
"Yes you do, You're 5'4", and you're taller than me by at least a few inches. You can swim, and you can punch. You can do it."
"Olivia. Stop. I'm not coming back. I know it."
"Yes, you will come back!"
I give up arguing. Olivia is like a puppy dog, persisting in what she wants until she gets it. Arguing with her is fruitless. We just sit there in comfortable silence, hugging each other. All too soon, a Peacekeeper is back. I flash Olivia a small, sad smile as she slips through the door. And then- I'm alone.