Prologue: The Stars

The stars sparkled above me, just as the industrial sounds of the Seam echoed throughout the empty city streets. Apparently the miners were working a late night…In some ways I almost feel bad for them, but then again, they are the very people who prevent my own sleep. A guilty conscience can do that to you…err…me. It's funny, though, despite the noise, District 12 seems like one of the most peaceful places at night. The cries of hungry children abated until the sunrises, drunk peacekeepers delaying their harassment of citizens in order to drink their boot legged alcohol, everything simply stops and rests and no one has to worry about anything except for the demons that haunt their own dreams.

I know about demons, I've seen them in the eyes of children as they stare into the face of death, I've seen them in the eyes of President Cyrus as his teeth practically glittered red…I think anyone who lives in the present day knows about these demons for every year, annually, one might say, 1 boy and 1 girl from the twelve remaining districts must compete in order to earn the right to live. Kids between the ages of 12 and 18 look into the eyes of Capital manufactured demons every year in an event called the Hunger Games.

Tomorrow, or, today really as it is early morning, is the Reaping. Tomorrow is the day one girl and one boy will be torn from family and relations and thrown into faux luxury. The Capital devised this game after District 13 rose in rebellion seventy-eight years ago. So really, these games are essentially a seventy-seven year old grudge. They're extra mature. But I didn't say that…or think that, wouldn't want to be tried for treason or anything.

Down below me I heard a rustling of sheets and footsteps, the door creaked open and I looked over the edge of the roof to see my little brother, Ayden, rubbing his eyes.

"What are you doin'?" He asked, curiosity and sleep mixed into his small voice.

"Just looking at the stars," I replied quietly, a wistful expression on my face.

"I wanna look, too." He said , jumping and reaching his hands up as if to touch the roof edge. I sighed and clambered down, picked Ayden up onto my shoulder and pushed him up onto the roof. His small feet disappeared over the top and I pulled myself up onto to the roof, quickly swung my leg up and almost fell as Ayden tried to "help" me up. I've always been good at climbing, Ayden to the contrary, seems to have always had a serious case of gravity. Not only was he seven and two feet and eight inches, but he has always been on the chubby side. My Ma says it's only baby fat and that he'll grow out of it, frankly, I have my doubts.

Ayden slipped his hand into mine, his stubby fingers unable to squeeze the other side of my palm. I chuckled as he attempted to gain a firmer grip. Ayden giggled and finally gave up, turning his eyes up to the sky.

He pointed up at the stars with his free hand, "What's that one called?" He asked.

"That one?" I asked, pointing in the opposite direction, Ayden laughed

"No, that one!" He exclaimed, emphasizing more with his pointer fingers.

"Oh! That one!" He nodded with a smile, I smiled back and pretended that I was thinking," I think that one's called Ayden Daniels."

"That's my name!" I nodded in confirmation.

" You see, Ayden, whenever a baby is born, a star is also born." Ayden laid his head on my lap as he listened to me, a rare moment for a seven year old. "The day you were born,"

"December 18." He interrupted, I chuckled slightly and continued.

"The day you were born, December eighteenth," I swiped a hand through his soft blond, baby hair, "That star was also born. That's why you and him share the same name."

"Why do babies need stars?"

"To hold all their dreams, of course," Ayden nodded and looked up at me.

"I'm gonna have lots of dreams - my star's gonna be the biggest." He said quietly, mesmerized as the stars twinkled above us. We sat in silence, the industrial noise of the mines had stopped and only the crickets and frogs were left to communicate. I followed Ayden's hand as he pointed up again, "Which one's yours?"

"The one right next to yours," I replied, gesturing to a random star. He nodded slowly and yawned as his eyes fluttered shut. Almost immediately a soft snore escaped his mouth, he doesn't have any demons yet. I chuckled resentfully and laid back, one hand wrapped over Ayden's.

I didn't have the heart to tell him that all he could ever be was the butcher's boy…Or dead.

End of Prologue