CHAPTER ONE
AN: My first fanfic ever! Yaay! I don't own Hunger Games. That would be silly.
I rolled over in my small, lumpy cot. No point trying to sleep in. Reaping day. Mom will just wake me up anyways. Twig is downstairs, probably helping with breakfast. Sunny is sleeping in her cradle next to me. And Maize is working today. I get into my reaping dress, a lovely green sundress, with wooden beads around the neckline. Perfect for District Eleven.
While I eat breakfast, Mother comforts Twig. She likely had a nightmare about the Games. I can hardly blame her. Last years' were terribly chilling. She was scared out of her mind of the cave monsters. They disturbed me, too. Shaggy black fur, yellow fangs, glowing white eyes, acidic drool, the blood of the tributes caked around their claws. The victor that year had burns all over, and was screaming when they lifted him out of the arena, still holding his bloody axe. Great. Now I've ruined my appetite.
As I'm showed into the sixteen-year old pen, our escort, Dyllia Gower, bobs up to the stage, her green ringlets flying. "Good morning, District Eleven! I'm so excited for today! Let's start with the gentlemen this time," she bubbles, reaching into the bowl. "Barley Sickle!"
Barley Sickle walks slowly up to the stage, giving me plenty of time to observe him. He is tall, dark, and average. Huge muscles ripple as he saunters up to Dyllia. Scary. He`s scowling so hard, it looks like his face might rip around the edges. "Ladies next!" she trills. She reaches into the bowl, and very, very slowly, draws out the paper. "Seeder Elevator!"
No. It can't be right. Not me! Must be someone else. Some other Seeder Elevator. Someone else. Not me…
A/N: An elevator is a grain lift that transports grain to a silo. Please read and review.
-Clouds of Grey