The sun was shining through the small crack in my window. I turn to my side and see my younger siblings sound asleep. For them it was easy. Willow, five, and Thorn, ten, had nothing to worry about, except losing a sibling. My twin brother Milo and I, fifteen, on the other hand had to face the reaping. Later today we would line up with other kids in our district and wait to see if we were the ones to head the Capitol, to see if we were one of the twenty-four tributes to participate in the 68th annual Hunger Games.
"Anona?" I hear Milo's deep voice whisper in the dark. "Are you awake?"
With the ray of sunlight peaking through our window I can just make out Milo's soft face. Just like me, he had hair the colour of blackberries, just like our father. However, where his was cut short, mine went all the way down to my elbows. We both had skin the colour of the soil after it had been dried by the sun, which made our Amber eyes pop. Our younger sister and brother had black hair and dark skin as well but their eyes were just like our mother, the colour of hazelnuts.
I push myself up onto my elbows. "Ya can't sleep. You?" I whisper back, trying not to wake our younger siblings.
He shakes his head. "Nope. How can I, when today is such a big day," Milo smirks. I see him slowly move away from Thorn and tuck the blanket back around him. He then slowly gets out of bed.
After giving Willow a gentle kiss on the forehead, I do the same. Making sure to avoid the squeaking floorboards, we slowly make our way through the small hut we called home and out the front door. The sun was just starting to peak over the tree line when we walk out the front door. There was no need to ask where we were headed because there was only one spot that we ever felt truly safe. The top branches of the Maple tree that was located right in front of our house.
Having leant at a very young age, Milo and I loved to climb. When we were smaller it was our job to climb to the top of the tree to pick fruit or send a small melody through the tree's to signal the end of the day. So even though that was over six years ago, we never lost how free we felt when climbing.
While Milo settled into a branch near the top, I lean against the truck of the tree beside him. With my head leaning on his shoulder we watch as the sun finishes rising over the orchard. Silence falls between us as we watch through the hole in the branches. The tips of the branches created what can only be described as a window, which gave us a perfect view of the fields and orchards. At this moment it felt like there was just us, my best friend and me, no one else. Because Milo and I are twins we are very close. Since birth we have been inseparable. He knew my deepest darkest secrets and I knew his.
"How many times are our names in the bowls today?" I ask, even though I already knew the answer.
Milo sighs and wraps his arms around me. "Well you have been taking tesseras for you, mother and willow for the last four years, same with me for father, Thorn and myself. So if my math is correct that is sixteen each," he says counting out each tiny slip of paper on his fingers.
The day after we turned twelve, Milo and I signed up to receive tesseras every month. In turn we get our names added in more times each year. Since there were six members of our family, including ourselves, we decided to split the tesseras. This way the number of times our names were put in the bowl was the same. However, even though our district has the largest number of kids in all of Panem, having sixteen tiny slips with our names on them still wasn't the greatest. It wasn't as bad as some of my friends at school who didn't have a sibling to split the collection of tesseras with but it still wasn't good.
"So I guess the odds really aren't in our favor today huh?" I sigh, closing my eyes.
Milo leans his head against mine and pulls me close. "Are they ever truly in our favor?"
The sun had completely risen in the sky when a Peacekeeper walked under our tree. We fall silent once more. The last thing we needed was to be found out of bed before the curfew was lifted. The Peacekeeper stops at the bottom of our tree and looks around. For a second I think that he might have heard Milo's last comment and was just trying to figure out where it came from. Thankfully after a couple of pain staking minutes the Peacekeeper walks away from our hiding spot and around the corner.
I let out a huge sigh of relief. "That was a close one. For a second there I thought he heard us," I whisper before starting to make my way slowly down the tree.
"So did I. But if he had he probably would have dragged us to the square and shot us. Even if it is Reaping day," he explains as he follows me down the tree.
Sadly Milo was right. Even though they were called Peacekeepers, they were anything but Peaceful. If you were suspected in the slightest of stealing or some how committed treason of some sort, they would drag you out in front of everyone and torture you before putting a bolt through your head. And what Milo had said about the odds not being in our favor was definitely under the treason category.
We slowly and quietly make our way back in the house. According to the clock on the wall it was just after six. Which meant our parents will be getting up any minute. Milo and I make our way back into the bedroom we shared with our young siblings. I crawl back in next to Willow, while Milo crawls up next to Thorn. We had barely closed our eyes when there was a knock on our door.
"Rise and shine kids. It's time to get up," my father's voice says from the door. Normally my father was always smiling and cheerful. He would hum while he worked the fields, and even around the house. But today his voice was laced with worry and sadness. He wouldn't be humming or singing today.
Willow shifts beside me as her eyes slowly open. "Morning time already?" she asks quietly.
A small smile forms on our father's face. "Yes my tiny Willow tree. Today is a very special day. So we all need to get up and ready. Your mother is making breakfast," he says before heading back to the small kitchen.
Milo and I exchange glances before helping our brother and sister out of bed. The Reaping didn't start till noon. Which meant we could get at least four hours of harvesting in before it was time to get ready. School was cancelled for the day so that children could take care of their younger siblings while their parents worked the fields for a few hours. The rest of Panem got the day off but here in District 11 the work never stopped. Especially if you didn't have a child of reaping age, if that was the case you spent the entire day in the fields until they replayed the Reapings from the other districts later this evening. The only time work stopped was when there was a mandatory message from the Capitol, the Hunger Games or the Victors Tour was on.
We entered the kitchen to see our father with his arms wrapped tightly around our mother. Noticing us they quickly pull apart but my father keeps his hand on her back. For the past four years this is how we would start Reaping day. Mother would make us breakfast, letting tears fall when she thought we weren't looking. Father would try and consol her in one-way or the other. Whither that was with a hug or a gentle squeeze of her hand. Then once breakfast was over, they would head out to work, Father to the fields while Mother went to the sorting warehouse. While they worked, Milo and I would take care of Willow and Thorn. We would play with them and actually have fun.
At this point Thorn knew what today was and what it could mean for his older siblings as well as himself in two years. Willow, on the other hand, was still to young to fully understand. She knew about the Hunger Games and what they were about, a little bit, but she hadn't quite put together how Milo and I were involved or how she would be in seven years.
Once the clocks turned eleven, Mother and Father would come home and help Milo and I get ready. We each took turns bathing, washing any speck of dirt from our skins and under our nails. All children taking part in the Reaping were expected to dress nicely, just incase they were picked. That meant one of Father's old dress shirts and pants for Milo and a dress for me. Plus I had to do up my hair. Using a couple of pin and elastics I pull half my hair up into a pony tail why the rest falls likes rivers down my back.
Mother gives us each one more once over just as the clock turns to 11:45. This gave us just enough time to get to the square out side the justice building and for Milo and I to sign in. Once we get to the square, our parents and younger sibling each gives us a hug.
"See you in an hour," my father whispers in my ear before letting go.
Our family walks over to join the others, while Milo and I join the line of kids between the ages of 12-18. After we've signed in we have to split up. Me going over to where the girls stand and him to the boys side. We give each other a quick hug before splitting off. This was the point where my nerves would start to pile up on each other.
I start to get comfortable with the fact that I may never see my family again. That I'll be heading to the Capitol soon to be prepped for slaughter. Every year I do this just in case I do get picked. This way if I hear my name being called I won't be as surprised. Plus as I wait for them to call the boys name I would have to stand on the stage. And the last thing I want the other tributes to do is laugh at my horror when they watch the replay.
With my brain going through it check list of preparing for my death I didn't notice my friend, Bailey, slipping her hand into mine. It wasn't until she squeezed it gently that I noticed her. Turning my head I see that she is smiling at me. I try smiling back but only end up twitching the corner of my lip.
"Everything is going to be fine. Tonight we will be at home with our families," she states giving my hand another squeeze.
Even though, beside Milo, she is my best friend I can't help but feel slightly annoyed. Bailey is an only child and her mother had passed away when se was five, from a tracker jacket sting. This meant she only had to take out tesseras for her and her father, so her name was only in the bowl twelve times. So the odds were definitely more in her favor then mine. But I just nod. "Of course. Then tomorrow you can finally admit you have a thing for Milo," I whisper back.
Bailey gasps before elbowing me. As far as I know, she has had a crush on my brother for years. But she had yet to act on it. Probably for fear that one of them would end up participating in the Hunger Games. That's why I had yet to let myself fall for any one. Sure I though a few guys at school were cute but that was as far as I went. Why get my hopes up only to end up heart broken as I watch them get killed. If I was from District 1, 2 or 4 where most victors are located, then maybe I would let myself love but I'm not. So until I turned nineteen and am finally free of the fear of being reaped. But Bailey never let that get in her way. She had let herself fall for Milo and if both of them never get reaped, I wouldn't be surprised if she became my sister one day.
I finally let a smile cross my face, at the thought of my brother being happy, just as our Capitol escort, Otha, takes the stage. Every District had someone who came to take the selected Tributes off to the Capitol. Otha had been our Escort for nearly five years. Which freaked me out slightly because he still looked the exact same as he did back then. The only thing that changed was his outfit. It was always a suit but the colour of it was different every year. This year it was a deep red. It almost looked like he had pealed the skin off of every apple in the orchard and sewed them together. That is if our apples were dipped in glitter.
If he stopped at the suit it wouldn't be so bad but the fact his hair always matched. This year was no different. Otha's long hair was deep red and sparkly. With all of that and the fact that he was wearing a think layer of make up, he looked very out of place here in 11, where we all wore faded yellow and blues. I glance across the square over to where Milo is standing. He is shaking his head and smiling. I know that if we both make it home today, he will make fun of Otha's outfit. Just like last year and the year before.
Otha taps on the mic, making sure it's on. "Good afternoon everyone!" he chimes cheerfully in his Capitol accent. "And what a good afternoon it is. The sun is shining and in just a little while one lucky girl and boy will get the chance to be apart of the historic Hunger Games. But before we get to that the mayor will remind us why we have the games."
Our mayor stands up from where he sat on the side of the stage. Next to him sat the three Victors District 11 had left Seeder, Chaff and Farro. Seeder had won about 25 years ago; Chaff had won the year before Milo and I were born. Farro on the other hand had only been a victor for two years. He is the youngest Victor we have ever had when he won at the age of sixteen. Both Seeder and Chaff won their games when they were eighteen. I remember seeing him around school before he became a Victor. Farro would always be laughing and joking with his friends. But now there was no smile on his face. He just stared out into the crowd, his face as still as a stone.
Farro is the definition of tall, dark and handsome. He had to be at least 6'3, his dark hair had grown past his ears and I had never seen eyes so green. They looked like they were made of
"In penance for their uprising, each district shall offer up a male and a female between the ages of 12 and 18 at a public "reaping". These tributes shall be delivered to the custody of the Capitol. And then transferred into a public arena, where they will fight to the death until a lone victor remains. Henceforth and forevermore this pageant shall be known as The Hunger Games," I hear the mayor say bringing me back from my daydream.