A/N~ So I know I probably should NOT be starting a new story, but I couldn't help myself! Damn me and my story hungering ways.
Oh, and if anyone has a character to submit as a tribute that'd be AMAZING and I'd love you forever! :D Anyway, I hope you guys like this!
Chapter One: The Great Divide.
I saw the golden bell's ring before I heard it. Looking up through the hazy blue water, I spotted the blurred outline of gold swaying back and forth on top of the justice building. It was reaping day.
And I was late.
My feet pushed against the mushy, shell covered sand beneath me, sending me plummeting toward the surface. I broke through with a gulp of salty air, inhaling the sweet scent. I could vaguely hear Brett calling my name from the dock. I propelled myself there quickly to meet his snide remarks and tapping foot. What else were brothers for, really?
"And always late-!"
I snatched the crumpled grey fabric of my best dress from his hands and stuffed it over my head- a huge grin spread over my face. "Common then, hurry up!" I set off in a charge down the dock towards the square. My thick, wet red hair whipping my face as I run. The curly locks leaving red marks on my already sun-burnt cheeks.
"Where's Brett?" Carter demanded, sounding irritated. Though both my brothers were well past the age pf contending for the games, they still had to show up.
"Lounging on the beach last time I saw him." I lie, finally falling into step next to him before morphing into the crowd of possible tributes.
We herded into our appropriate sections as if we were cattle in District Ten. Somehow I winded up next to Nyla Mines. Nice girl. But I had to send her a sharp look to get her to shut up once the cameras started rolling.
Rowan Cap was about as much a man as I was. His dark pink hair was almost completely covered by one of his infamous large hats. Just as every other year. His black vest only almost covered his softly chiseled stomach, while a pair of jeans matching his hair were pulled so tightly around his waist it looked as if to suffocate him.
This is the man who represents us.
He took the seat next to Finnick Odair as the Mayor took the podium. And honestly, I was so used to his droning, that I zoned him out until Rowan was taking the camera's attention again. He called out a ceremonious, "Best of luck fishies!" Before walking over to the bowl holing the thousands of girls name. I felt my body clench. "Ladies first, eh?" He gave a charismatic wink to the cameras.
It was in the few moments his hand swung over the parchment that my heart stopped beating, my breathing stopped. And then he called out, in that genially happy voice of his: Lena Samon.
My body slammed back to me, suddenly alive again. My pulse set to overdrive, my breathing out of control. It took a look at the huge screens around to snap me back to reality, The people around me seemed to take a step away, as if I were diseased, or they were already breaking all ties with me.
I was suddenly very aware of my un-make-up-ed, un-dried, being. I could hear the murmurs as I took the stage. Most people knew me. Or my father. Or my brothers. We were hard to miss.
As I reached the stage and turned to look at the crowd, no girl would meet my eyes. I didn't blame them. I think it was the shock that held back the tears.
"Jacob Yales!" It's the calling of this boy tribute that makes me regain some sort of focus. Because I know this boy. He's friends with my little brother, comes to my house for play dates. He's twelve.
Before the boy has a chance to digest what happened, or move, Mero Torbot steps outside of the crowd. He says, his voice dry and low, and yet we can all still hear him, because we're all listening, because we can hear a pin drop, "I volunteer."