The seagulls squawk and the waves crash, but besides that my ears hear nothing but silence, shear and utter silence. As I stare through the window at the sky I see that it is touched with orange, red, blue, and a hint of purple; I faintly smile at the beauty, but that smile quickly fades as I realize that today is a day of sorrow, pain, and loss that must be cruelly celebrated. Today is the day of the Reaping, also known as step one of the hell that is the Hunger Games. For districts 1, 2, and my beloved District 4 (the Career Districts) the Games are honorable, just, and glorified, and in other 9 districts it is torture, murder, and certain death.
To my district the games are a good thing but I share the same mindset of Districts 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, and 12; to me the games are nothing but children being force to kill or be killed for the entertainment of the sadistic capitol citizens. They laugh at the deaths of children, while the majority of the Panem population has never known the feeling of an overflowed stomach. My mind races with the thought of there being yet another Hunger Games, yet more blood, yet more death; all of these thoughts yell at me through the silence, and that's when I hear him.
"Maena!" My father screams from the bottom of the staircase.
"Yes?"
"Get down here! NOW!"
I sprint down the stairs to be met by black fabric.
"Here, wear it today."
I look at the dress, it is long enough to reach about 6 inches above my knee, which is 6 inches too short for my taste. "Thank you, but I already have an outfit picked out."
Just as I begin to believe that I will waltz away from this discussion with the choice to wear the outfit I had already chosen, but I quickly find out that I am wrong.
He slaps me so hard I am slammed against the wall, and then he pushes me to the floor and strucks my 16 year old body again and again.
I should yell to him, scream his name, he is only two houses down. I need him to help me.
Just as I'm about to scream his name, through the cries of pain, my father's fist connects with my chest making me struggle to take my next breaths. "You're going to wear anything I tell you to wear! You got that!" He yells in between punches.
"Yes, ok, I'm sorry." I choke, hoping he would let me go.
After a couple more hits he gets off of my mangled body and throws the dress on me as I lay there catching my breath.
I trudge upstairs to clean myself up; when I gaze at my reflection I'm appalled at what I see; my eye is enclosed in a dark purple hue, my temple is dripping blood and my body is covered in cuts and bruises.
I wash the blood away, grab the dress, and rush out the door. I need to see him, I need him to hold me, and I just need to be in the same room as him.
In no time I'm at his house, knocking on his door. His shiny brown curls swish sideways down his forehead, his sparkling green-hazel eyes grow worried at the sight of my distorted body, he instantly draws me into a hug and kisses the top of my head, and I sob into his shirt again and again.
"It's ok, I'm right here, you're ok." He leads me into his little sister, Kylee's, room so I can attempt to get a couple winks of rest while she is sleeping with her mother but I can't think of anything except the throbbing pain that shackles my body.
When I finally give up on rest I slowly file into his room, and I notice his eyes staring blankly at the wall, his eyes meet mine before he gets up and says, "You can't sleep either?"
"Nope, hey you want to go to the beach?"
"Sure. But first we got to get some ice on that pretty little eye right there."
He tangles his fingers with mine and leads me to the kitchen. I get a towel and he places the cubes of frozen water on top and pulls the corners together.
"Jayson, I'm not a baby I can handle a black eye, you don't have to take care of me."
"Yeah, well you're my baby, and I'll take care of you if I want to, ok?"
I nod in an attempt to hide my blushing and smiling.
"Alright, so chair, sit, now."
"Fine, gosh you're bossy." I sit as he begins to press the cold towel onto my eye; I wince at the first touch of ice.
"Oh, sorry babe."
"I'm fine."
He looks deep into my bruised eye and whispers to me, "So, what was today's beating for?"
"I told him that I already picked out a dress for the Reaping after he got one for me." as I speak I can feel his body tense and scorch in anger.
"You still want to go to the beach?" I change the subject knowing if I don't he'll want to go to my house and fight with my dad and that's the last thing I want him to do.
"Yea, let's go, and you better keep that ice pack on your face."
"Yeah, sure DAD."
"Oh I like when you call me Dad."
"Oh really?" my smile grows wider, if that's even possible, as I inch towards him.
"Yes really, say it again." his smile grows as well as he follows my inching.
"What you want me to call you Dad?" I snake my arms around his neck. He nods his head and wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me up from the chair. "How about Daddy?"
"That's even better." he chuckles planting a kiss on my lips, I mesh my fingers into his hair as he squeezes my waist even closer to him. We continue kissing for a couple minutes before he breaks away from me and says, "Come on, let's go."
We walk hand in hand to the beach, but I want more, I want to be closer to him, I release his hand and clamp my arm around him and push myself closer to him, he follows my lead and binds my neck in his arm, squeezes me even closer, and then he kisses the top of my head.
The beauty of the ocean is peaked when it could possibly be your last day gazing at it. I turn my head to stare at the beauty next to me, the incandescent green-hazel eyes that lose their green as they survey the sunny horizon, the dazzling smile that makes even the brightest of stars burn in envy, the hair that rises and falls mimicking the very waves before us.
"What?" he remarks when he notices my staring.
For the first time, I will admit my feelings to him, I won't hold it in anymore, I won't wait for him to say it first, I have to say what I feel, I have to tell him, "I love you."
"I love you too."
I just smile and press my lips against his again and again and again enjoying the enchanting feeling of his lips against mine.
We spend the next hour lying in the sand; my head on his chest accepting the sound of his beating heart; drenching one another in the salty water, and peering at the open horizon as the sun fully awakens, then we decide to head back to his house and get ready. I slip the dress on and to my surprise the dress was tied around my neck revealing my entire back, at least this dress has one thing in my favor although I would rather it shown half of my back instead of the whole patch of skin. I walk to the kitchen so Jayson's mother, Celia, could hide my bruises with her magic make-up. When she is done applying the make-up and combing my hair I stand so she can get Kylee ready.
"Maena you look really pretty."
"Aw, I may look pretty but you look beautiful."
"Aw you're nice."
"I know." I say as I begin to tickle her chin, she giggles and pushes my hand away; I give her a quick little kiss on her cheek while Celia finishes her hair.
"I love you Maena."
"I love you too Kylee."
Kylee is 10, two years away from her first reaping, but she still has to wonder if this was going to be the year if the Capitol would take away either her big brother, or best friend.
Jayson then strolls down the stairs in a black tuxedo jacket and dark denim jeans; I took deep breaths in an attempt to slow my now racing heartbeat. "Wow you look hot." He says.
"You took the words right out of my mouth." I said continuing to catch my breath.
Once Celia finishes Kylee, she quickly gets ready and we head out towards the Town Square, Jayson slithers his hand into mine and slightly crushes it, I try and relax but I can feel my hand shaking in his.
"Chill, there not going to pick you." I listen to his attempt at calming my nerves.
"Jayson, my name is in there 35 times."
"I told you not to take tesserae for my family then you'd only have 15. So just relax, ok, I won't let anything happen to you, I promise." His words linger in my mind as he fastens his arm around me.
I pace to the section marked off for 16-year-old-girls as Jayson makes his way to the 17-year-old-boys, I turn and look to him and his bright green-hazel eyes meet my dark brown eyes. He smiles at me reassuringly as the mayor begins his speech about the first rebellion, the Dark Days, and why we have the Hunger Games. I zone out, it's the same speech every year so I could care less. But when Lania Skye steps toward the podium in her wedged zebra ankle boots, a skintight neon green dress and hair spiked in every direction colored to match, she has my undivided attention.
Thankfully she doesn't have an ongoing, unoriginal speech, so she gets right to it, "Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be EVER in your favor. So let us start with the ladies." She steps to the bowl which holds every District 4 girl from the ages of 12 to 18 she slowly leads her hand the bowl and spins it around the bowl a few times before she pulls out a snow white piece of paper held together by a sliver of midnight black tape. She rips the tape, opens the paper and says the last thing I would ever want her to say.
"Maena St. Clair"
The entire Square cheers as I stand there shell-shocked. I've just been reaped. My heart stops as I realize that this morning was most likely the last time I will ever see Jayson again.
I look to him and he looks at me with only one expression clear on his face, anger.
I walk up to the stage, the cheers grow louder in the boy's section as I am projected on the big TV screen behind me, I roll my eyes and chuckle at the immaturity. Lania pats me on the back saying, "Any volunteers?" The crowd grows silent, "Well then congratulations Maena." I force a smile to snake across my face, then the crowd bursts into another round of applause but above the joining hands I notice a yelling coming from the far back of the crowd. My mind explodes with hatred when I see my father jumping, hooting, and hollering, happy that I was being sent to my death.
"Now for the boys." She continues. She repeats her hand circles in the boy's bowl.
Please, don't pick Jayson. Anyone but Jayson. Please.
"Eric Fishford."
A mangy little 12-year-old kid walks into the aisle and I let out a quick sigh of relief that it's not Jayson but I'm still not happy that a little kid is being sent to his death either. He begins to walk to the stage but a voice all too familiar to me stops him.
"I volunteer!"
He makes his way to the aisle from the 17-year-old boys and past Eric, my face goes from artificial happiness to legitimate anger in a split second. Once I see the face that matches his voice, when he walks up to the stage he looks at me when he makes his way past me and I glare back at him.
"What is your name sweetie?" Lania asks once he gets to his place on the left of her, opposite of me.
"Jayson, Jayson Reynolds."
"Alright, shake hands you two." We do as we are told, Jayson looks into my eyes with a worried yet relieved look, and I return it with anger. "Here are you District 4 tributes for the 74th Annual Hunger Games Maena St. Clair and Jayson Reynolds." And with that Lania lifts our hands up for a moment then we are taken into the Justice Building to say our final goodbyes.
After about 10 minutes of me sitting in that velvety room all alone Celia and Kylee arrive. Kylee runs into my arms, sobbing into my shoulder, "I don't want you to go." she weeps.
At her words I allow my every guard to crumble down and begin to cry, "I don't want to leave either."
Kylee kisses my cheek and whispers, "I love you, like a big sister."
I kiss her forehead and smile, "I love you too, little sister."
Celia takes one step toward me; I meet her half way and embrace her, my face flooding with tears.
"Celia, listen to me, ok, I'm going to do everything I can to bring him back to you, I promise."
"Thank you," she says, "Maena, even if your blood doesn't match mine, you have always been and always will be my daughter."
I let out one last wail of sorrow once the Peacekeeper opens the door, signaling that our time is done. I embrace Celia one last time, "You are the closest thing to a mother that I have ever had, and I love you."
Celia takes something out of her pocket, a necklace with a shell swirled again and again to form a perfect circle its color bright red in the center and fading to a pale pink with every swirl, "I want you to have this, take it as your token." I nod and smile, incapable of words that won't include tears, I hug them both once more and they are forced to leave.
And that's when my father stumbles in stone-cold wasted.
"WOW! This is the happiest day of my life." are the first words to slither past his tongue.
"Why would you be happy about this?" I reply wiping my face.
"If you die I don't ever have to see you again and if you win, highly unlikely, I move into the Victor's Village." he says with a sadistic smile across his face.
I looked at him, hatred spilling out of every pore.
He walks out of the room after saying, "Happy Hunger Games. It looks like the odds are in MY favor this year."
A/N: hey thanks for reading i hope you enjoyed if you didn't please review and tell me how to make it better and trust me this story will get ALOT better i promise (and i always keep my promises)