QUEENOFTHEBUTTERFLIES
GALACTIC GAMES
THAT'S JUST LIFE
I wake up to someone jumping on me. Out of reflex, I pull my dagger from my side pocket and pin them back down to my bed. They're struggling beneath me, but I've got my hand to their throat, daring them to try to speak. However, at that precise moment, dawn breaks somewhere in the horizon, revealing the petrified face of my little brother, Brick. I immediately let go of his neck and jam my dagger back down in its pouch so that Mom won't come in and see it. She doesn't like weapons in the house.
"Avi! You promised you wouldn't do that anymore!" he whines, bringing his hand up to inspect for damage. "And Mom says you're not supposed to have the daggers in the house!"
"What Mom doesn't know won't kill her," I snap, pulling back the worn wool covers from my body.
"But it'll kill me!" He scampers off of my bed and presses his back to the wall, looking at me with mock fear in his eyes.
"What are you doing up so early anyways?" I ask, walking over to my 'dresser'. Really, it's just a box filled with all of my clothing – three day outfits, pajamas, undergarments, and one formal dress, which I wear to the reaping every year. Nothing special, really. Putting my back to Brick, I start to unbutton my pajama top.
"Don't you remember, Avi?" I can hear him bouncing back onto my bed, but I say nothing. His bed is in a much better condition than mine, and yet he prefers mine anyways.
"No," I say simply, peeling the shirt off. I fold it up neatly and place it next to the box so that I can go digging around for a bra, which I usually keep at the bottom. In all honesty, I really don't need one. I'm as flat as a board, but Mom keeps insisting that they'll grow in some day. Then again, I don't think Mom's ever been right about anything.
"You really don't remember?" he presses, and I can just see his big brown eyes practically popping out of his head, even though I'm not looking in his direction. Those eyes are burned into my head, like the way a scar is burned into flesh; always there and impossible to forget.
"No," I say again, throwing on the bra and one of my day shirts, a brown tank top that's practically been worn to threads. It's my favorite shirt, mostly because it's the easiest to hunt in. Hunting.
"Wha… What?" I can hear the tears filling his voice, but I've already identified the mistake I've made. Today's his birthday. I promised him that I'd take him hunting for the first time today, and I completely forgot about it… I take a deep breath and throw a smile on my face before I turn back to Brick.
"No, silly!" I tell him, leaping onto the bed next to him. I pin him down easily, but he's giggling, so all is good. "Of course I didn't forget your birthday!" We wrestle with Brick for a few minutes longer, and I let him pin me down, which is a rarity. Now that he's laughing and having fun again, I get up and tell him to go get his hunting clothes on. He responds eagerly and runs out of my room and towards his own. I don't think anything excites that boy more than the thought of hunting.
After he's gone, I change into my hunting pants – brown leggings that match my shirt – and grab a backpack. The belt around my waist holds my daggers and shuriken, and since I can't let my mother see them, I hide it all in the bag, under the plastic wrappings that we use to bring home meat that Mom cooks for us. I know that she isn't awake yet, but hiding them still makes me feel better. She's caught me more than enough times.
Before I go, I take a quick look at myself in the mirror. It's been a while since I've had my haircut – it's rather expensive, and I don't know anyone who has any skills with a sharp weapon, other than me. And I really don't trust myself with cutting my hair. It's dark brown, like Brick's eyes, and I suppose it's gotten a good enough washing lately seeing as it's been raining a lot. I grab a hair ribbon – an expensive, lavish one; it was a gift my father obtained for me from the factory where he works. He doesn't get to come home too often, maybe every few weeks, but he always manages to bring presents. This one was from my last birthday, when I turned thirteen. I've worn it every day since I got it.
I inspect my ears, making sure that they're even. Since I'm an Elf, they're nice and pointed, but to me, my right one has always appeared just a little bit pointier than my left one, and for some reason, that bugs me. But today they both appear to be even for the first time in forever.
When compared to humans, Elven qualities aren't very noticeable. Our noses are a bit pointier and turned up a little higher. Most of us have heart-shaped faces and cherry-red lips. We've all got rather pale skin, but yet we don't get burned easily like humans do. We have some sort of resistance to elements. For example, we can breathe under water for short periods of time (the longest record is held by Keton Lazar, who held his breath for an entire hour). I'm not sure where it comes from or why we have it, but it typically pays off somehow. To me, one of the most peculiar differences is that Elven women are shorter than average human women whereas Elven men are usually taller than human men. I mean, Brick – who's only seven – is only an inch shorter than I am, and he's probably still going to grow another foot whereas I probably won't manage to grow another centimeter.
By the time my hair is tied back and I'm done inspecting myself, Brick is waiting outside my door with his spear at hand. His spear was his gift for his sixth birthday. It took me a few weeks to make, but he loved it. He's practiced with it every single day, preparing for his seventh birthday so that I would teach him how to hunt.
Technically, those of us on Planet 3 aren't supposed to be hunting, but everyone does it. The Capitol – which is actually on Panem (which, at one point, was Earth) – has set up twelve planets which represent the twelve districts that Panem had when it was small. We're labeled from planet one through twelve and each planet has a different race and specializes in a different area. For example, Planet 3 specializes in electronics and firearms because, as a race of Elves – conquered by the people of Panem long, long ago –, we have very nimble fingers, allowing us to easily mess with gadgets and craft weapons. It only took me weeks to make the spear because I'd never made one before. Anyways, we still have all of our basic needs (my father works at a textile factory, which is Planet 8's specialty) on this planet, but not many of them. The majority of other needs come from the other planets, and the Capitol takes a majority of the pay. So instead of going to the market to buy food, most of us just hunt for it. Planet 3's Capitol (called Center) typically turns a blind eye to it – as long as they receive compensation. The people who run Panem's Capitol love the eccentricity of the pelts of Planet 3's animals. The Square pays us for the pelts, then the Center pays them for the pelts, and finally the Capitol pays them. So it's all good.
It might seem difficult to run twelve planets, but there's basically a hierarchy to it. The Capitol is at the top, then the Centers, and then the Squares. There's a Square in every city, and they enforce the laws of the Center, which enforces the law of the Capitol. There are who knows how many Squares spread all over Planet 3, and they're all of the same value to the Capitol: nothing.
I shake my head to clear the thoughts from my mind, and then I turn to Brick and smile. "Are you ready?" I ask, slinging the book bag over my shoulder. He nods excitedly and scurries out of the room, not even bothering to say anything. I head out of my room, and I've almost reached the front door when I hear my mother's cool voice.
"Avoria," she says, and from the tone, I can tell that she isn't pleased. All the happiness that Brick gave me suddenly deflates as I turn to see her. She's leaning against the door to her room with her arms crossed over her chest. She looks just about as happy as I feel – little to less.
"Yes, Mother?" I say through clenched teeth, trying to keep my tone straight. It's not that I hate my mother – I just have a very strong disliking of her. It's always been obvious that she favors Brick, with his bubbly happiness and his bright sunshiny smile. She's never really been a big fan of me – even when I was the only child.
"You'll be sure to take care of my baby, won't you?" she purrs, but her face portrays no emotions that resemble caring. It's icy cold – just like her heart.
"For the last time, Mother, he's not going to get hurt. I'll keep an eye on him."
"See to it that you do," she finishes, and then she stalks back into her room. I can feel my anger rising within me, boiling under my skin. I'm so tempted to go back there and tell her off, but I hear Brick calling me, begging me to hurry up so that he can getting started on his training.
"Coming, Brick!" I call. Then I leave the house and slam the door behind me as I do.
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Author's Note:
I don't know if this idea is original or not, but I like it. I'm going to try to keep up with it, so you're welcome to support me by reviewing, or sending me a P.M. or both. Whatever you like! If this story goes well, I'll probably do a SYOT (I don't even know what that stands for! Can someone please enlighten me? Nevermind - I got it!) with different species (I'll give you all twelve of them, a description, and a template!) and everything. I think it's a cool idea. Lemme know what you guys think!
Also, I don't have a beta reader (yet), so feel free to point out any mistakes or inconsistencies. Or you could just offer me your services… (:
Oh, and a thank you to loudgirlx, who inspired me to read The Hunger Games, and another one to Max In Training, who's tribute I was working on when the idea came to me!
-QOTB-