Facing Death: The Story of the 1st Quarter Quell

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games Series!

Chapter 1: The Reaping

Iris' POV

I could feel the sun's warm rays hitting down on my tan face as I walked through the forest of District 11. I searched for eatable berries for my family, knowing that there wasn't many here, but it was worth looking for. You never did get a lot of meat in District 11; you ate mostly vegetables and fruits. I would go out and search for edible berries every day, even if I came back empty handed.

The Capitol, though, would make sure that most berries that lived in the provided forests here were inedible. I made sure to memorize all of the berries in my mother taught me when we would go out into the forest together. It was very useful, even if she wasn't alive to help me with it today.

I smile slightly when I recognize the small red berries that grow onto their own stems. These were cranberries, defiantly edible. I looked for the most I could, especially on the day of the Reaping. This would be my first reaping, I was 12 now, but it was also the 1st Quarter Quell.

The Quarter Quell celebrates a 25 year interval for the anniversary of the Hunger Games. The designer of the games made a list of what would happen during the Quarter Quell. Each time something new and different would happen. This year, people from each district would have to vote on who went to the Hunger Games, instead of picking from a large bowl like usual.

Thankfully, my brother and I were the only one in the Reaping for my family. My two younger siblings, Rose and Thimble, were too young. Rose was 10 while Thimble, he was 8. My other brother, Jay, was 16. He would have two more years until he finished. At least my two other siblings were not yet in danger, that made me a little bit relieved. My father, though, was a different story.

Ever since our mother died two years ago, he had become very protective of us. I took over my mother's jobs and worked on the plantations with my brother after school. My father did the same he did when my mother was alive, but became very protective. He wouldn't let my younger siblings go out alone, especially Thimble. I was only allowed because I had a working job now and Jay would usually come with me. My father had taught me how to use knives and swords, out of self protection. I wasn't that good at it after two years of practice, but I was getting better.

I pluck the berries, though, from its stem and move on. I get more than I expected and find some Thimbleberries (which my brother was named after) and Hackberries.

Then I hear a rustle in the bushes and I gasp, whipping around. My heartbeat quickens rapidly and horrible things enter my mind. I think back to my own mother's death, when she went out to get some berries. I had asked her for specific ones and she had to go out of the boundaries of the forest where it was illegal to go. She was killed for trespassing and killing some animals when hunting. Most people didn't hunt in District 11, but my mother was just different like that. If I didn't ask her, she would still be here right now.

But maybe I had crossed the border line? Were the Peacekeepers out to get me, just like they did my mother? Then I relaxed when I recognized my friend, Snow, come into view. She has white-blond hair and pale skin. She doesn't look a lot like the people around here do, but she made a good friend.

"Scared ya'?" She asks, smiling.

"That isn't funny!" I snap, my limbs relaxing, "You scared me half to death!"

"Well, I saw you walking through the forest, and I wanted to come and tell you that the Reaping is starting soon," Snow explains with a slight shrug.

"Oh, right," I murmur as she leads the way back.

"I didn't want you to be late like last year," Snow chuckles quietly, "At least you weren't in the Reaping!"

"This year will be worse though," I say with a frown, "we had to vote on who was going. Do you think I will go?"

"No, of course not," Snow waves her hand dismissively, "not enough people know you."

"The people in the Plantations here do," I argue.

"That's not a lot compared to the amount of people living in District 11," She shakes her head, "most likely they'll just pick randomly out of the sheet they were given with all the names."

A large sheet had been placed in the square, listing everyone who was in the Reaping. People would have to go there and pick a name before submitting it to the representatives.

We soon near my house and Snow waves, saying, "See ya at the Reaping!"

I just merely nod as she jogs away.

When I walk in, my father is immediately over to me. His gray eyes, like mine, are flickering with the worries of today. I just smile and brush back my long, dirty blond hair before handing him the berries.

"You didn't have to do this," He says as he looks down at the berries in his hand, "You should be resting."

"For what?" I shrug and try to pass off as nonchalant, "It's just the Reaping, and they're making us vote for the tributes, I doubt I'll get picked."

"You don't know what will happen," He protests as he starts wrapping up the berries in a handkerchief.

"I doubt I'll get picked," I protest gently, trying to keep my own fears and worries from showing.

"Iris!" I heard my little sister, Rose, call from our bedroom. She rushes over with Thimble and asks, "Did you get the berries?"

"Of course I did," I force a smile to my face, "And I got some Thimbleberries especially for you, Thimble," I pat my little brother's head lightly.

He grins widely and exclaims, "You're the best, Iris!" Before rushing over to the berries with my sister.

"Eat them and hurry up," My dad says, his voice getting a bit high from hysteria, "The Reaping will start in 10 minutes."

"Don't worry, we'll get there on time," Jay says as he walks into the room.

Jay is tall, like my father, with brown hair and blue eyes. He smiles at me as he sees me standing there.

"You look awful," He commented gently.

"I should get ready," I murmur before running into my room.

I replace my dingy, mud-covered clothes with a nice blue top and long, flowing black pants. My mother had given this to me before she died, saying she wanted me to wear it each day of the Reaping. She said that very outfit got her through years of not entering the Hunger Games. She had been 13 when they started 25 years ago.

"Ready?" I hear my dad call from outside.

"Yep!" I call before dashing out.

We leave soon, a sullen silence falling over us as we get closer to the square. District 11 is very large; so many people fill the square. The people not in the reaping are off to the side while people like me have to line up with their age group. I'm in the back for I am the youngest of the kids going.

I head over to the long line of 12 year olds who all look equally as nervous. Jay heads over to where the 16 year olds are. He looks slightly nervous and I can see his fear as he clenches his fists. I take in a deep, shaky breath, before stepping in line. I try to keep my emotions concealed the best I can.

Suddenly, a small woman with curly white-blond hair walks over to the microphone. She has a smile plastered on her face and I wonder if it's from all the botox she receives. She taps the microphone twice before speaking.

"Welcome to the 25th Hunger Games!" She says, her voice filling the air, "And the 1st Quarter Quell! My name is Heather Worthington, mayor of District 11, if you don't know me already." She flashed another smile and begins talking about how the Hunger Games started and the Dark Ages. Then it began.

"This year is the 1st Quarter Quell, signaling 25 years since the beginning of the Hunger Games," She continues, "It is a reminder to the rebels that their children are dying because of their choice of violence. So, for the 1st Quarter Quell, every district shall hold an election and vote on the tributes that would represent it."

There's a dead silence to something that we had been told when President Snow addressed us a couple of months back. Some smiles come, thinking that some people have less of a chance of getting picked than other do. I just kept the same, serious look on my face. Who knows if people would just randomly pick my name, or Jay's, off the list because, say, they liked it, or, they just thought their vote wouldn't matter. But it would.

Another woman bounds up to the stage. She has pure white hair with somewhat tan skin. She has the accent from the Capitol.

"Hello!" Her voice is chirpy, "my name is Sarina Pigeon.

I don't bother in staring at the crowd, or staring at her, I just keep my gaze forward. My heart pounds in my chest, and I keep trying to tell my self that no one would pick a 12 year old girl! My palms become sweaty and it's getting harder to keep my image.

"Alright!" She continues in complete perkiness, "Ladies first!"

My heart feels like it's going to leap out of its chest, and I feel sick to my stomach.

Just say it! Say it! Say it! Say it! I scream inside my head.

Finally, she says, "Iris Novada!"

There's stunned silence and I just stand there, horrified as I realize that it's my name that she called. But…how could this be happening? Out of all kids, how was I chosen? How could my District, my friends, my neighbors, betray me like that by sending me out to my death? At only 12 years old?

"No!" I hear my dad scream and he leaps forward and clutches my arm. My two other siblings are staring at me with horror and tears in their eyes. "No! You can't go!" He said desperately, "Please, someone volunteer!"

"I'm sorry sir, but no volunteers this year," Sarina says from the stage.

My father stares at me with desperate, pleading, gray eyes, "Iris, you can't go!"

"I'm sorry," I just manage to whisper, "I have to."

I push him aside gently before I make my way up to the stage. The people who didn't choose me murmur in surprise that a 12 year old got picked. This was just my first year, and I had gotten picked. Oh why?

I see my brother, Jay, staring at me with grief-stricken blue eyes. When I pass him, he lightly rests his hand on my shoulder. I hesitate there for a second, staring at him as he nods. He doesn't say anymore as I walk away from him.

With stiff legs I go up to the stage and shake Sarina's hand. I hate her perkiness, I hate everything about the games, and I hate the rebels for starting this. But they learned their lesson, didn't they?

As I step back, I can hear my younger siblings faintly crying along with my father. I don't look at them, because I knew if I did I would break down. I already seemed small, weak, and young to the other people in the other Districts, I didn't need to be a cry baby too.

"Alright! Now the gentlemen!" Sarina continues, looking at the card and saying, "Sage Newthorn!"

I see a tall, young man move through the crowd. His face shows his horror and bewilderment, but when he gets to the stage, it all disappears. He has short black hair and slightly tanned skin like mine. His dark blue eyes are hard, but grief flickers in there. He looked to be about 14 years old. I'm just thankful it was him instead of Jay.

Sage shakes hands with Sarina before turning to me. He grips my small hand and we shake weakly, both looking into each other's eyes with dread, sealing our fate forever.

A/N: Please Review! I'd really appreciate it!