Chapter 1
It is the day before the reaping and in total; it will be my 16th reaping. I sit up in my bed and look over at the window. The sun hasn't raised yet, which means I'll have time to go into the woods before school. School in District 12 is pointless in my opinion, I mean who wants to learn about the properties of coal when the most we'll ever do is dig it up and chuck it in a cart off to the Capitol? I quietly slide out of bed and walk over to my wardrobe, being careful not to step on any creaky floorboards. I throw on a long-sleeved t-shirt and some trousers before staring at my own reflection in the mirror, debating on what to do to my hair. My long brown hair hangs limply around my heart shaped face. I find it strange how on some days, I look like my mum, Katniss, and then on other days, I look like my dad, Peeta. I have bright blue eyes that stand out against my olive coloured skin, and a spray of freckles across my nose and high cheek bones. I loathe my freckles. I decide on doing a quick fishtail braid. I'd rather not do the side braid my mum does, I don't like being similar to her, although, living in district 12, almost every girl wears their hair in a braid. "District 12: the town of braids," I mutter to myself, laughing at it slightly as I pull a soft, wool hat over my head. I tiptoe downstairs and put on my old worn socks with my brown leather boots that are slightly too big as I'd been given them as a present for my birthday last year but haven't grown into them like my mum expected. I take my cardigan off of the hook by the back door and put it on as I grab a slice of yesterday's bread from the kitchen counter. I silently slip out the back door of my home in the Victors village and walk towards the Seam. My parents would rather I didn't go out hunting on my own, so I have my whole family thinking I go out for a walk around the District every morning.
As I move through district 12 eating my bread, I smell the familiar smell of burnt coal. Most people don't like the smell, but living here, you get used to it. Of course, I imagine the Capitol smells a lot better, or so my parents say. As Victors hey have to travel there every year for the hunger games and so they mentor the poor souls being sent into the arena, like a lamb to the slaughter. People in the Capitol think I'm a lot like my mum and often, too often compare me to her. I am not my mum. I am my own person. Although we share a few qualities, I am definitely not like Katniss Mellark. I'm always referred to as 'the girl on fire's daughter'. Of course, I am her daughter but to be constantly referred to as that gets aggravating as if I don't have my own name. Is it so much to ask to be called Willow? I reach the end of the Seam with the wind blowing the loose strands of my hair into my face. Having to constantly flick the hair out my face as I go, I find my way to the house where my mum used to live with my Aunt Prim and my Grandmother. As I walk through the door, I'm greeted by aunt Prim's cat Buttercup. "Hiya Buttercup," I say as I stroke his ear. At least he likes me; he and my mum have some 'issues'. Even after all these years, Buttercup prefers this small dwelling over our home in the Victors Village. Technically, we have 2 homes in the Victors Village, but my Grandmother and Aunt Prim stay in the house assigned to my mum, whereas me, my Dad, Mum and Brother all stay in the house assigned to my Dad. I walk over to the wardrobe and pull open the doors, feeling for my Mum's hunting jacket in the darkness of the room. As I pull the jacket from the wardrobe I run my fingers along the soft leather, giving me a sense of comfort. It was my Grandfather's before it was my Mother's, and I always wished I could've met him before he'd died. I pull on the over-sized leather jacket and I grab my mum's game bag and abruptly head out the door again, into the chilly morning woods of District 12.
Before me stands a huge fence that surrounds District 12. The very fence that's meant to keep us cooped in. We are told the fence is for our own protection, to keep out wild animals. I know better than to think that. Out in the woods, there are weapons, there's food, and there are Mockingjays that sing forbidden songs. It's what the Capitol is afraid of freedom. I walk alongside the fence until I reach a section where there's a slight gap. It's supposed to be high voltage but we hardly have electricity during the day, only for a few hours or so, plus there was no buzzing sound, so it's not turned on. I position myself on my stomach and wriggle underneath the fence and I quickly pace it into the protection of the trees, covering my tracks as I go just as my Mum taught me to do. I carry on making my way deeper into the forest until I reach a hollow tree. I crouch down and reach into the tree before pulling out a bow and a quiver filled with arrows. Setting it down beside me I pull out the sharp, wooden knife-like weapons I carved myself, and shove it in a side pocket of the quiver. I sling the quiver over my shoulder and begin my hunt.
I weave my way through the trees, treading carefully on the soft pine on the forest floor. I manage to pick off a rabbit and two squirrels, although, I don't quite hit them in the eye like my mum can. I ready myself to shoot a bird when I see a flicker of movement. I lower my bow slowly and turn to find a Turkey. My eyes grow wide in amusement as I watch the Turkey walk out right in front of me. I raise my bow once more but it seems to have realised that I'm a threat and is now running away. I grunt and quietly follow after it. It finally comes to a stop and I crouch behind some rocks to avoid scaring it away again. I try to get a good angle to shoot at it but using a bow won't do me any good so I revert to using my wooden knives. I steadily hold my knife and aim at the Turkey. Suddenly I hear a crunch behind me and I instinctively throw the knife in the direction of the noise. Luckily, the knife lodges into a tree and narrowly misses my little Brother, Rye.
"I think I just peed a little." He says in shock.
"Rye, you shouldn't have followed me."
"Well I wanted to come on a walk with you and you said you'd bring me but you didn't wake me like you'd said you would, so I followed you."
"Well, you're too young anyway."
"I'm old enough to know how to follow you without you noticing."
"That's not the point, you're only eleven."
"Actually, I'm eleven and two-sixths."
I roll my eyes and there's a moment of silence before Rye speaks again.
"I can see now that you're certainly not on a casual walk."
"Yeah, well I could see that you ate the last biscuit that dad was saving for Haymitch but that doesn't mean I follow you around to see what you're eating."
"For the last time, I didn't know that it was for Haymitch! And anyway, when mum finds out-"
"Mum isn't going to find out because you are not going to tell her!"
"But Willow, the woods are dangerous and what if we get caught..."
"Oh stop whining Rye. If you were worried about getting caught, you shouldn't have followed me past the fence. Did you even cover your tracks? Besides, I have weapons that I know how to use so I could easily take down a wild dog or something."
Rye looks at me with worry spread across his face.
"Ugh, fine. Let's go home. Just promise me you won't tell on me."
Rye nods, "I promise."
"Good."
I take his hand and lead him back to the hollow log where I stash away the weapons. "I could have gotten my hands on a Turkey you know."
"What's so special about a Turkey?"
"I could have traded it for something nice."
"Oh..."
"Oh well."
We reach the fence once more and I urge Rye to go first and I follow shortly after. "I need to stop by the Hob on the way."
Rye doesn't look too pleased. "Is that the place with all the scary people?"
"Yes."
"Well, why would you need to go there? Aren't you afraid?"
I am afraid, but people don't mind me being there as they know me from trading with my mum.
"I'm not afraid." I lie. "I need to trade in my game; I can't just let it rot. If you want, you can wait outside?"
Rye considers this before shaking his head. "I'd rather not be alone. Besides, I want to learn how to hunt and trading seems to play a big part in it."
"Mum already taught you the basics."
"Well, why can't you teach me some more? I'll need the practice if I ever get picked for the games."
I give him a concerned look. "I'm hardly fit to teach you anything Rye."
Fancy that! My 11-year-old brother wants me to teach him how to hunt! Little does he know I lied about being able to easily take on a wild dog, they're pretty hard to kill and it's probably wiser to scale a tree than to try and fight them. In all honesty, I'd probably freeze in my tracks and end up being mauled to death.
"It's better than nothing." He replies. "I've practically forgotten everything that Mum has taught me, so if I get picked for the games, I won't even remember how to defend myself."
"You don't even need to be thinking about the games Rye, you aren't even in the draw until next year and even still, your name will only be in there once since we don't need to take out Tesserae."
"That didn't stop Aunt Prim from being picked."
I sigh. "We'll see," I say, pulling him by his hand into the Hob.
We enter the hustle and bustle of the hob and walk straight over to Greasy Sae. I pull a squirrel out of the game bag and dump it on the counter in front of her.
"A gift from me,." I say, smiling at her.
Sae winks at me and chuckles.
I take my brother by the hand once more and lead him round the stalls to look at all the jewellery. I scan the collection of jewellery, hoping to some sort of token like mother's Mockingjay pin but I find nothing and give up my search.
"Let's go," I say giving Rye a nudge.
"Finally." He mutters under his breath.
Before going home, I stop by my mum's old house in the seam to drop back her hunting gear.
"How are you feeling about tomorrow Willow…are you scared?"
"Scared? Of what?"
"Just because our parents are Victors, doesn't mean that we're immune to the Reaping!"
"I know." In fact, it probably means we're much more likely to be chosen, but I decide not to share this thought with Rye.
"Don't worry though Willow, they won't pick you this year."
I look down at Rye with sad eyes. I know he's trying to be reassuring so I manage to force a smile. "Let's hope you're right."
I walk with Rye into our home in the Victors Village. Immediately, I hear my mum shout from the kitchen.
"Willow you're late!"
My mum comes walking to the main hall to greet me and is surprised when she sees Rye with me.
"I got a bit held up...as you can see," I say gesturing towards Rye.
"Right well, you'd both better hurry up and get dressed for school, you've got to leave in 10 minutes."
With that, I run upstairs and quickly change out of my clothes and into a presentable school dress. I don't bother to redo my hair and so I go back downstairs to the kitchen for some food. My mum has already laid out a thick slice of bread, coated in goat's cheese for me.
"You can't go to school with your hair like that."
I huff as I plonk myself on the chair and eat my slice of bread. She comes over and takes out my fishtail braid which has been ruined by the wind and does my hair in 2 simple braids.
"I used to have my hair like this for school." She says, tucking the loose strands of hair behind my ears. "Your dad will remember."
I get up and walk to a nearby mirror. The plaits make me look about 5 years younger than I actually am and I pretend to love the style to please my mum, even though I'm not so keen. My mum always seems to be on edge so I do my best to please her.
Rye comes down shortly and is given a slice of bread to eat on the walk to school.
School that day was as boring as it always is. We learnt mostly about coal, again. Rye and I walk back home together and the moment we walk through the door, the smell of our dinner has wafted in from the kitchen, and into the hall. We always have a special dinner before the reaping, just in case it's our last meal as a family in our own home. Aunt Prim and grandma usually join us. No one ever says that this is the reason but no one has to, we all know why, but it's too heart-breaking to think about, we can't afford to think like that.
For dinner, we eat a stew that grandma makes every year. Nobody says much, but I think we're all too busy enjoying the stew.
At bed time, my mum comes to tuck me in.
"Mum?" I ask as she strokes my head.
"Yeah?"
"What's that song you used to sing to me?"
"The lullaby?"
"Yeah, the lullaby...will you sing it?"
She hesitates for a moment but then begins to sing:
Deep in the meadow, under the willow,
A bed of grass, a soft green pillow,
Lay down your head, and close your eyes,
And when they open, the sun will rise.
Here it's safe, and here it's warm,
Here the daisies guard you from every harm,
Here your dreams are sweet,
and tomorrow brings them true,
Here is the place where I love you.
Deep in the meadow, hidden far away,
A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray,
Forget your woes and let your troubles lay,
And when again it's morning, they'll wash away,
Here it's safe, and here it's warm,
Here the daisies guard you from every harm,
Here your dreams are sweet,
and tomorrow brings them true,
Here is the place where I love you.
By the end of the song, tears are running down my mum's face.
"Mum, are you okay? You didn't have to sing if it made you upset-"
"No, no. Willow, it's fine, I'm fine. The song brings back a memory, that's all." She wipes the tears from her face and gets up, leaving a kiss on my forehead before she turns off the lights and shuts my bedroom door.
That night, I don't get much sleep; neither does my mum. I hear her screaming from her nightmares. A scream so terrifying, I can do nothing but hide under the covers, clamping my hands over my ears, wishing for it to stop. Soon there's silence, and that can only mean my dad has managed to calm her down. She hasn't had a nightmare in a long time and now I feel as if I triggered her nightmare, by asking her to sing that song. My mum told me that my Grandfather once said, "Songs can be just as dangerous as a weapon."
That's why there are some songs that are illegal to sing, and I know every word of those songs.
Eventually, I drift into a restless sleep, with images of the reaping and Mockingjay's...and forbidden songs.
Authors note:
Hello! I'm Olivia
So, this is the very first chapter of a fanfic I had previously been writing on Wattpad but this is it now edited and improved so I hope it's a billion times better! Of course, credit to Suzanne Collins for the lovely lullaby.
I hope you liked this first chapter, I was hoping to give an insight into Willow's normal, day to day life before the bad stuff happens.
I always love seeing comments or constructive criticism or even suggestions for future chapters! So don't hesitate to interact with me, I don't bite!Thanks for reading!
Olivia