CHAPTER 1
Every year, two children between the ages of twelve and eighteen are reaped from each of the twelve districts that form our nation of Panem. These children are called Tributes. The twenty-four Tributes are then placed in an outdoor arena, where they are forced to fight to the death until a lone Victor remains. This is known as the Hunger Games.
Today is the reaping. Two more children from our district are being sent off to the capitol for a week or two, before they're placed in an arena and killed off in the initial bloodbath, like every other year.
This is the ninth year of the games, and our district is yet to have a Victor. We've come close though. In the first few years, the games were fair, and our tributes did rather well. One of them even made it to the final two, back in the third games. He was brutally murdered by a large boy from District 2.
After those games, District 2 decided they wanted more than just one Victor, so they set up an academy, for children who wanted to train for the Games. Eventually District 1 caught on, and District 4 wasn't too far behind.
Even though training for the Games is illegal, the Capitol turned a blind eye to Districts 1, 2 and 4. To them, it just makes the Games more interesting, having kids who actually want to kill.
Just two years ago, in the seventh Games, Districts 1 and 2 had Tributes that volunteered for the games. All of them were either 17 or 18 years old, and looked like they'd been training for a few years. District 4 had one volunteer that year.
Those Games, were the first to have a large alliance that were hunting the Tributes throughout the Games. While they hunted the tributes, a tribute from an outer district said to the pack that they 'kill children as their career.' Of course, this didn't end well for the tribute that said this, but we now have a name for the Tributes from 1, 2 and 4 who Volunteer each year. Careers.
The careers were the only tributes left after ten days in the arena. They clearly hadn't through their plan through, and forgot that once every other Tribute is dead, they're going to have to kill one another until there's a Victor.
After a bloody battle, lasting well over two hours, the boy from 4 was crowned the Victor.
My family is sitting around the small table where we have our meals. No-one is talking, we are a lot more quiet than usual. My mother is usually in a cheery mood, making sure we look great for school, and always trying to feed us a decent amount before we head off to school.
We're a family from the seam, yes, but my father works in the mines. His pay is not much, but it's enough to feed us and keep all of us happy and reasonably healthy. My younger brother, Kale, is only eleven. He's still a whole year away from being eligible for the reaping, which I'm grateful for.
This is my second last year i'll be eligible for the reaping. My name will be in the reaping ball 30 times. I took tesserae once this year, for each of my family members. In return I was given oil and grain, which has lasted us a long time.
Mother places a slice of bread in front of me on a small silver tray. I'm surprised to see bread. Our meals usually consist of soups with vegetables, and occasionally meat, but never fresh bread.
"Is this real - the bread I mean?" I question.
"Of course it is, dear." My mother says, in a sad tone. She's clearly upset with the reaping today. "I went to Mellarks Bakery early this morning, and Mr. Mellark gave it to me for a quarter of the price!" Her tone changes to a slightly happier one as she says this.
"That was very generous of them, dear. I'll have to stop by later a thank them." My father says, before taking another bite of his bread.
Upon seeing him do this, I do the same. I bring the bread close to my face, and the aroma swirls to my nostrils. The bread is still warm in my hands. I break a piece off and place it in my mouth. It's still soft on the inside and the crust is not too hard.
I eat slowly, resisting the urge to devour the whole slice in no more than three bites. Kale doesn't fare so well, and his slice is gone within minutes.
He watches me eat. His grey eyes, watching my every move, and his scruffy dark brown hair dangles over the side of his face, and just above his eyebrows. He resembles me from when i was his age. Gary eyes, typical from the seam, Dark brown hair, and olive skin.
I eventually give in to his pleading eyes, and hand him the last bite of my precious slice of bread. He takes it out of my hand hesitantly, surprised by my gesture. He brings it to his nose, sniffs it deeply, before shoving it in his mouth, and barely chewing it.
I shake my head and smile towards the wooden floor chuckling to myself. "You're a funny kid, ya know that, Kale."
He looks up at me and nods, "I couldn't help myself! I take after you, Darren." he says with a smile, "Except i'm better looking!" At this the whole family is laughing, even mother. The laughs quickly fade as we remember what today is.
My mother asks me to go to my room, to bathe and change into my reaping clothes. When i get to the door, she places a hand on my shoulder. I turn to face her. Her eyes a glimmering from the tears that threaten to spill down her cheeks. "You are a good boy, you know that, don't you Darren?"
I turn my gaze to the floor once again. "Thanks, mother." I say, with a sad smile. I Look back to her, she's smiling too, and a tear slides down her cheek. I Raise my hand towards her cheeck, wiping the tear with my thumb. She gives me another sad smile. "Don't worry 'bout today, i'll be fine. Just like every other year. It's okay."
"I - I sure hope so, Darling."
"Mother, please don't call me that, i'm seventeen now!" I say, with another smile. I'm really smiling a lot for someone who's about to attend a reaping.
"Sorry darli- I mean, Darren." I wrap my arms around her tightly, and she kisses the top of my head lightly. "Now bathe and get changed, you stink!" I chuckle once again and she does too, before turning away back to the kitchen.
I get into the small tub in our bathroom. A bathroom is considered a luxury in District 12, well, for a family in the seam that is.
I use a jug to scoop the water from the tub and poor it over my body, using my other hand to scrub my body with the old sponge we have. I finish bathing after arrownd fifteen minutes.
I change into a sky blue shirt collard, and tan coloured shorts. Making sure to tuck my shirt in. Looking good for the Capitol.
I walk out the kitchen, where my family is waiting to leave.
"You look so handsome, Darren!" My mother says with a touch of sadness in her voice.
"He takes after me, dear." My father says, chucking to himself after winking at my mother. She kisses him on the cheek and puts her hand in his.
We walk out of the house. Mother and father are standing behind me while I hold Kales hand. My father has his hand rested on my right shoulder as we walk through town.
Many of the families are walking together, some crying and most staying quiet. District 12 is a dark place on reaping day.
When we reach the square, families are huddles together and saying their final goodbyes and wishing good luck to their children.
My father claps me on the back and scruffs my hair playfully with his hand. "See you after, son." He says in the cheeriest tone he can muster.
I turn and nod my head, forcing a smile. he returns the gesture, before waving his hand in a manner that says 'Off you go' I nod once more before making my way towards he checkin area.
I reach the check in area where the boys are signing in. I line up for a few minutes before i'm at the front of the line, where a lady in a peacekeepers uniform grabs my arm. She brings a needle to my finger and press it down. I wince as it pieces my skin slightly and warm blood trickles down these of my finger.
She pressed my finger down on a piece of paper, and it makes a finger print out of my blood. She waves a scanning device over it, and my name flashes up on the screen. She then waves her hand for me to leave and calls for the next person.
I walk slowly down the centre of the square, looking at the faces of the other children who are roped off into their age categories, many of them quivering with fear, and girls holding each others hands for dear life.
I reach the seventeen year olds section, it's almost full. I squeeze my way through some of the guys. Most of them move out of the way for me, others just grunt and I have to push my way past them.
There's roughly six or seven guys to my right before i'd reach the rope. I Talk to some of the guys around me, murmuring my good luck and shaking their hands, before the mayor makes his way towards the microphone.
He says his speech about the dark days, the twelve districts, the thirteenth obliterated, the Capitols generosity and forgiveness, and then the reason we have the Hunger Games. many of the guys around me shuffle and wince at his words and speech about the Games.
The mayor makes his way back to his seat after introducing our District escort, Sabrina. She's wearing typical Capitol clothing, everything is yellow. Her dress, her high heels, her cloves, her wig, her skin is tinted yellow. I wouldn't be surprised if her eyes had yellow contacts! She's wearing what appears to be shoulder pads too.
"Welcome, to the reaping of the Ninth Annual Hunger Games!" Her voice is high and cheery, she's excited about the reaping, no most likely thinks it's an honour to go to the games! "It's time for me to select one courageous young man and women, to represent District Twelve in this years Hunger Games! May the odds be ever in your favour!"
She waddles over towards the girls reaping ball, filled with thousands of names and white slips paper. She removes the glove from her right hand and reaches into the ball. He hand dances of the slips of paper for a few seconds, before she takes a slip from the very top. all of that, to take a slip off the top.
Sabrina waddles back over to the microphone and begins to unfold the slip of paper. The girls side of the square come eerily silent. Sabrina takes a deep bret, before reading the name.
"Mazie Pitsworth!" Movement comes from the girls thirteen year olds section. Some murmurs come from the crowd. No one likes it when a twelve or thirteen year old are reaped. We know they don't stand a chance. "Come on up, dear!"
A small girl makes her way to the stage, her hands are clenched into fists and her arms are stiffened by her side. She takes short and slow steps. Thousands of eyes are trained on her. She has blond hair, that in two pony tails sprouting from each side of her head, she has blue eyes, the same colour as the dress she's wearing.
She's definitely are merchant, her name was probably in the raping ball twice, I Doubt she had to take any tesserae.
Mazie stands on the stage, facing the crowd. She isn't crying, which usually they do.
"Now to choose our male Tribute from District Twelve!"
She makes her way to the boys reaping ball, and dives her hand towards the bottom quickly, before ripping it out and almost running back to the microphone. She unfolds the slip of paper, and I swear every guy around me holds their breath. One of us is about to be chosen.
"Darren Hitsbrow!"
I feel the blood drain from my face. My feet stay firmly planted on the ground like a statue, and it feels as if my heart is threatening to leap out my chest.
The boys around me are staring at me, relief on their faces that it wasn't them. They slowly back away from me, like I have an infectious disease. They create a clear path to the stage. Peacekeepers surround me because I haven't moved yet.
Two peacekeepers grab an arm each, and I remember this is being televised across the entire nation. I rip my hands from their grip and clench my hands into fists, making my knuckles turn white as snow.
I stride towards the stage, staying as confident as a I can. I keep my face expressionless, my lips pressed inn a firm line. I lift my legs up the steps of the stage, they feel ten times heavier than usual.
I finally reach the centre of the stage, where Mazie stands, still facing the crowd, looking strong for someone who was just called their death.
"A round of applause for this years Tributes of District Twelve!" Sabrina claps, as the crowd stares at us with pity, and no applause. "Shake hands, you two."
I turn to Mazie, her blue eyes are shining with the tears that threaten to spill down her cheeks, like my mother this morning. I put my hand out, and she hesitantly reaches for it. I smile, the best I can, even though it's probably a wonky smile, but it's the best I can do. I squeeze her hand reassuringly, and relief floods throughout her face.
I gaze out to the crowd once more. Their faces are stone cold, mostly pity. Some of the parents are shaking their heads, eyes on the ground. The reactions they display show exactly what they're thinking.
We're just two more kids from District 12, who aren't coming home.