Chapter One
The hydraulic hiss of a train signals its stopping. A man with auburn hair and a thin mustache escorts his wife up the shining silver stairs. The woman turns her slender face towards two girls who stand at the station, a smile on her fair lips. The younger girl escapes from the grasp of the plump woman, a secretary of the mayor, and embraces her mother. Her auburn braids whirl in the wind, falling against her mother's silk dress as she tightens her hug. The older hesitantly walks towards her father, who grasps her shoulders tenderly.
They exchange looks of regret and compassion, and nothing is said. The silence speaks loudly enough. She turns away from her father, grasping her mother's hand in farewell. The stark difference of temperature, the girl's cold skin and mother's warmth, only seems to separate the broken family even more.
A conductor taps his wrist, and the mother looks away fro her daughters. With a stroke of the younger girl's hair, she bids a final farewell.
The door hisses closed, and three figures stand solemnly as the train disappears into the tunnel cared into the mountains. The final car of the train is swallowed by the darkness, when suddenly—
I awake screaming again. My heart is beating like a drum, threatening to explode fro my chest and tap dance across the floor. I clutch at the fabric of my nightgown, gasping for the cool breath of early spring. It's still dark.
My breath begins to slow down to a normal rate, and I throw the covers off of my body. The silky fabric of my pajamas sticks to me with sweat, and I quickly begin to peel it off, exchanging it for a camisole top and some thin shorts.
Sitting sideways on my bed, I slowly wrap my arms around my trembling legs and rock back and forth slightly. A few tears escape, and I wipe them up with the heels of my hands quickly, soon allowing my knees to become slick with my tears. Soon my head is back on the pillow, slowly creating a wet outline of my face. I close my eyes, relaxing my arms, and slowly stretching my legs back out. I don't bother to slip the covers on again, the cold doesn't bother me anyway.
A few hours seems to have passed, as the next thing I hear is the knocking on my solid oak door. I open my crusted eyes, rubbing away the sleep, and pull a strand of hair from my mouth. I hate tasting m breath in the morning. Allowing a little grimace, I nearly miss Kai calling me for breakfast.
"Miss Elsa, breakfast is almost ready. Are you ready?"
Ready? Ready for what? I squint my eyes slightly, finally finding my vision and seeing the outfit laid out for me.
Oh. That's right. I swing my feet over the edge of my featherbed, and yawn quietly. "Right, I'll be right down, Kai. Thanks."
I hear his footsteps echo down the hall, and I know he's gone. He's always so formal, unlike his wife Gerda, who acts much like a mother to Anna and I.
Anna. How did I forget? Today I have to face her again. I contemplate how I'll avoid her this time, as she always seems to find a way to try and spend time with me. Reaping Day has aways been awful, since I don't see any reason I need to leave my room, let alone leave the mansion. It hasn't appealed to me ever since the incident…
I swat away the awful memories with one hand, while the other pulls on black tights, a teal tunic with embroidered designs, a black sweater, teal gloves, a pair of magenta slip-on shoes, and a matching silky scarf. I decide to just let my white-blonde hair flow down to my ribs, placing a crystal headband above my fringy bangs.
A sigh escapes my lips as I put on minimal makeup, nearly drawing an arc across my brow with the mascara brush. Finally I'm dressed, and I turn towards the door. My hand rests on the ornate knob, and I close my eyes as the knob turns. I inhale suddenly, as a million scents fill my nose, and it wrenches my eyes open almost forcibly.
Mixing scents of wood polish, lemon candles, toasting bread, fried eggs, and many indiscernible ones overflow my brain, and I'm left in my doorway stunned, probably looking very humorous to anyone in the mansion.
I straighten up, fold my hands behind my back, and slowly tread through the halls. They all seem so unfamiliar to me now, as I've rarely walked through them the last twelve years. I follow the ever-stronger scent of eggs and toast, finally finding the small dining hall.
Everyone had already sat down, so my entrance certainly surprises them all. Gerda had just finished up setting my plate, but the fork dropped into my eggs as soon as she saw I'd arrived. Kai simply stood there, and then Anna—oh, Anna—she stared at me as if she'd never seen me before. Her big eyes seemed to grow even wider, and her full mouth showed the mashed-up food in near-full.
I clear my throat and sit down, smiling slightly in embarrassment, and thank Gerda for my plate with a small nod. It's deathly quiet as I pick up my fork, the slightest scrape seeming like nails on a chalkboard. I look up every once in a while, still feeling the burning gazes of my family and near-family, feeling my ears burn brighter and brighter pink.
Finally, after almost five minutes, I set down my fork loudly and slide my chair across the shining wood floor.
"Excuse me," I say loudly, trying to withhold the shakiness in my tone, and pick up my plate. I head to the hallway, my fork sliding off my plate and hitting the floor with a loud jangle.
I bend down to pick it up, but somehow Gerda has found her way there first. I look at her motherly face, and see she is concerned for me. "Please, Elsa," she says softly, the crinkles around her mouth and eyes contracting and expanding, "try to finish your meal with us? I know it's a little awkward, but we'll try our best to keep it normal. It's just a relief to see you again is all, dear." She smiles almost sadly, and I have to say yes. Even my anxiety is trumped by Gerda's kind tone.
Turning quickly on my heel, I quickly sit down again, regretfully allowing Kai to push in my chair for me. I go on eating as normal, but stop briefly when I hear the soft tones of Gerda to Anna. She had still been staring, and I assume Gerda was asking her to stop.
I hear the creaking of a chair, but keep my head down. I'm suddenly very interested in my eggs, toast, fruit, and iced tea. I'm surprised, though, as all of a sudden I feel someone tugging at my hair. I prick up suddenly, and Gerda brings a stubby finger to her lips, and I see her gesture to Anna's empty seat.
Gosh, she's sent Anna do to my hair.
I inhale deeply through my nose and nod, going back to my meal. My sister's nimble fingers twisted my hair, keeping my bangs natural and full-on incorporating my headband into it. I feel her braid the finality of it and twist it into a low bun, and finally she slips in a final pin. I feel her breath on my neck as she examines it, then walking back to her seat and sitting down quickly.
I can see a tiny smile on her lips, and she keeps glancing up, waiting for me to respond.
"Thank you," I let escape from my lips, a small, meaningful smile gracing my lips. That's all she needed, as the now-fifteen-year-old's grin glows brighter, and she goes back to eating her omelet.
The tension seems to have broken, as now Gerda claps her hands and smiles her warm smile at both of us. "Well, now, that looks beautiful, Anna." The young teen smiles sheepishly and shovels another bite of eggs into her mouth, a little falling back to her plate accidentally.
Gerda chuckles lightly and looks at me, and I sigh. I know what's coming. Ever since…it…happened, I've known it was coming. "Dear, I believe you know what I'm about to say." What a mind reader she is. I nod slightly, biting off the tip of a strawberry, letting the tartness wash over my tongue. She sighs and looks at her own plate, which she's just plated, her eyes falling back on me. "After the Reaping, Elsa, unless you are picked, which then means—"
"I know," I interjects a bit too angrily. I regret it as suddenly as it passes from my lips. I nearly leave the table again, but I somehow force myself to stay at the table. I sigh and close my eyes, nodding. "I know. Please continue." I whisper, my voice slipping up at the end.
Gerda nods solemnly, clearing her voice timidly. "Apologies, dear. Anyways, after the Reaping, you will be appointed as mayor in your father and mother's—absences." I wish she would just be blunt. Just say it, say they died. Please. Spare me the euphemisms. I'm eighteen, about to be mayor, I can handle it.
That is what I tell myself, at least.
"So," Gerda continues slowly, "there will be a meeting in thirty minutes, Elsa."
Thirty minutes! How wonderful, I just adore being looked at by everyone. Not like I'd prefer to be in my room or anything. I exhale through my nose, rubbing my temples with two fingers each. "Great, cant wait," I say shakily, not being able to contain my anxiety. I feel as if I might explode, but I won't. Not yet at least.
My plate is cold, and I decide I'm not hungry anymore. I rise from my chair and push it in myself, walking towards the hallway. "I'll be down in time for the meeting," I say in a clipped tone as my feet carry me towards my room.
I shut the door, not expecting the loud slam, and sit down on my bed. All the anxiety that has been building up within me like a bubbling teapot finally whistles, and I clamp my hands against the sides of my head, rocking slowly back and forth like early this morning. I gasp for clean air, and finally stand up to pace my room. Five minutes have passed. I walk to my vanity, resting my hands on the white-painted wood, and look in the mirror. I run fingers over the twisting strands of hair, and find the icy blue cord twisting in my braided bun. It's so beautiful, I don't know how she can stand to be around me. Around a monster.
I gasp and sit down on my bed, trying to fight the memory from exploding into my consciousness. The memory wins.
"Elsa!" The young girl whispered, shaking the little six-year-old. "Psst, wake up!" She shook the little girl even more vigorously, the younger's tiny pigtails shaking in the process.
A small sigh came from the older. "Go away Anna, go back to sleep," she said with a loving grin.
Anna was pushed to the ground, and she pouted. Not wanting to give up, she crawled back onto the soft bed and laid right on her sister. "I can't. The sky's awake, so I'm awake, so we have to play!" She exclaimed dramatically, pointing to the bright lights of the parade outside. The Victory Tour had finished that day, their own District 1 celebrating a victor that year, so many adults and older children were still up celebrating.
Elsa shrugged her off again, but Anna hung on to the bed. She crawled on top of her sister again, opening up an eyelid. "D'ya wanna build a snowman?"
The older smirked, finally pulling down her covers. She stepped onto the cold wooden floor, slipping on some warm boots and a scarf, gesturing to her sister to follow.
"Yay!" The three-year-old exclaimed, as Elsa tried to hush her. The little girl nearly went outside barefoot. She didn't, though, thanks to her sister, and soon they were out back in the snowy fenced-in backyard, the snow illuminated by passing cars and other light sources.
The two girls smiled and giggled as they rolled up uneven snowballs for a child-sized snowman. Elsa hid behind it, moving its stick arms happily. "Hi, I'm Olaf, and I like warm hugs!"
Anna giggled, hugging the little snowman. "I love you, Olaf!" She exclaimed, smiling at her sister. Neither wanted this night to end.
Soon, though, the elder was getting tired. Anna had been jumping off snow drifts and was constantly asking Elsa to join her. "C'mon, Elsa, it'll be fun!" She whined for the umpteenth time, and Elsa fumed through her nostrils, trying to keep her anger under control. Something in her always seemed to escalate her anger, but she dismissed it as normal feelings. They weren't.
Finally, as Anna tugged on Elsa's sleeve a final time, she whipped around quickly, her hand passing over her sister's face. The little girl fell back into the snow, stunned, and Elsa's hardened eyes softened. Her mouth formed a little 'o', and she rushed to her sister's side. Anna pushed her away, but the snow was soaking into her nightgown, causing her to shiver.
"Anna, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry…" Elsa cried, trying to grasp her sister's hand, but it kept falling away. "Mama! Papa!" She sobbed, hoping someone would come out to help her.
The sliding doors slid open quickly, two worried parents looking in horror at their two daughters.
"I didn't mean to, I—I—" Elsa whimpered, but her father took her aside as he scooped up Anna, his face hardened yet worried.
"Elsa, you are becoming out of control. How did this happen?"
"I didn't mean to, I swear, I—"
"How did this happen?"
Elsa was choking on sobs by now, not wanting to look her father in the eye. He turned her face towards his again, and stared right into her startling blue eyes. She couldn't contain it anymore, and broke down in large sobs.
"I—got—mad—and, and I—hit—Anna—and…" Her sobs were partially drowned out by the music and chatter of the parties, but her father heard her well enough. He pulled her into a tight hug and stroked her pale blonde hair, hushing and comforting her.
"Shh," he said, pulling her out of the hug and holding her by the shoulders. "Elsa, you must learn how to control these outbursts. If you become too angry…"
Both of them nodded, knowing well what could happen.
As Anna was brought inside, shivering and scared, the mother squeezed Elsa's hand before approaching the phone. She dialed a number, waited three rings, and began speaking hurriedly. "Hello? This is Idun Hirdóttir. Yes, the mayor's wife. I must make an appointment immediately with Doctor Pabbi. Yes—it's gotten worse."
I gasp; the memory's finally over. Thank goodness. I glance over to the clock and groan—I have to be to the meeting in five minutes. Might as well get there early, I suppose.
As I walk through the halls for the second time in the day—nearly a new record—I run my index finger over the walls, tracing the woodgrains with my fingernail. They're so smooth, so perfectly placed, that it's hard to imagine this building is over fifty years old.
Fifty years. That's right. I have to clutch my midsection just to hold back the stress that suddenly flows over me, as I remember this year is the Second Quarter Quell. Fifty years of Hunger Games. I grimace, my distaste for the Games odd in this prestigious district, and walk more quickly towards the dining hall. That's when I realize I have no idea where the meeting room is.
Luckily for me, Gerda is still in the dining hall, cleaning up from breakfast. She hears my footfall and smiles at me, making me feel guilty for leaving so abruptly. She walks over to me with outstretched arms, and I choke back a small sob. She must know what I'm thinking about.
I embrace her, something I normally don't do, and just stand there. I smell baked goods, a hint of rose perfume, and that smell most older people have. It's strangely comforting, and as soon as I pull away I remember I should be preparing to become mayor. She squeezes my shoulders, a bit of a reach for her, and I sheepishly smile.
The smile doesn't last, as soon I'm pulled away by the longing for a motherly figure like Gerda, and yet again she knows what I'm thinking.
"Just down that hall, dear."
I nod quickly, composing myself as I near the double oak doors. I hesitate, though, at the sound of talk. The highest of District One, besides myself, are having some subdued conversation, and I can't help but listen in.
"…her anger is not a good attribute for our next mayor. She should not be appointed!" The nasally voice of Head Peacekeeper Weselton, of course. He always has something against my family, but my parents had never told me. I had always assumed it was me. My assumptions seem to be confirmed.
"But she is a strong and capable woman, her eighteenth birthday just weeks ago. Ever since her parents died, she has handled it well." Kai, whom I rarely hear speak besides simple orders, seems very passionate about this. I'm surprised at his tone.
"She shut herself in her room and refused to speak to anyone! What if her sister is Reaped? Her anxiety and anger are inexcusable."
"Her panic disorder has dampened exponentially in the past years! Perhaps her parents did her a great service locking her up." My what? My fingers curl around door's frame, my breath rate increasing. I have to know more.
"And what of her intermittent explosive disorder, hmm? What of that? She could hurt her sister, or worse, the district!" My brow furrows. Explosive doesn't sound good at all. I need to know more. I take deep breaths like I was taught, and focus on the rushing river of blood pulsing in my veins to calm me down.
"The psychologist said—" Kai says, trying to contain his anger. He has stood up, as I could tell by the creaking of a chair being shoved away.
"Those psychologists are nuts!" Weselton nearly shouts, his fist pounding the table.
My hand slips, and the door opens, silencing the argument. I stand in the doorway, my eyes wide open, and mouth in a squiggly line of confusion and worry. I quickly straighten and put on a brave face, nodding to those in the room.
"Good morning."