Chapter Two
Rated M for violence, language, and sexual situations in later chapters.
DISCLAIMER: The only characters that I own are Claire Moore, Logan Smith and the other characters that weren't in the original Hunger Games. All other characters belong to Susan Collins.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to all of you who have read, reviewed, favorited, and followed. I really hope you enjoy this next chapter. As always, suggestions to help me improve the story are greatly appreciated. (and true to his name, Peeta will still be The Boy With the Bread)
The next morning I looked into the mirror and saw that my cheek had become a light shade of purple. I pulled my hair off my face, grabbed my knife, and ran out of the building.
The Seam was particularly quiet today. It always was on Reaping Day. Since it was considered a holiday no one had to go into the mines so the morning was always spent with family. I preferred to be alone. People would always take pity on me on Reaping Day. Everyone knew where I came from and how huge the chance was that I would be going into the arena. No one would admit it, but I always feel that they want it to be me instead of their children. I understood, I had no family, and not many people would miss me.
I slipped under the fence that separated District 12 from the forest. As I was walking into the woods I saw another girl. I raised my knife defensively and she raised her bow. It was Katniss, once she recognized me she continued on.
I always saw Katniss when I went out. In some respects I was jealous of her. She only had two other people to feed, I had hundreds. She had a partner, and I hunted alone. For a while I thought that we might join forces, but we both knew that I couldn't give up anything that I caught. Once, I brought Logan out, but he couldn't hunt even if his life depended on it.
I made my way to a lake deep in the woods. With only my knife to hunt with most game was impossible to catch. That's why I fished. I grabbed my crudely made spear from behind a tree and waded into the water.
I could spear fish with deadly accuracy. A girl who lived at the home a few years ago had taught me. She was even better than me. One time she caught enough fish for everyone at the home to have one. I always looked up to her. I thought she was invincible. She wasn't.
When she was eighteen she was a tribute. She died on the first day, just another forgotten tribute.
By the time I was ready to leave I had fifteen fish with me. When I went back into the Seam a few people were out. Suddenly, I heard a voice calling my name, "CLAIRE!"
I looked around and saw a blonde haired boy running towards me.
"Morning Peeta," I said when I saw him. Peeta was two years younger than me, but he was my friend. He was one of the only people who would pay attention to me at school. Like everyone he knew what I went through, but unlike the others he treated me like anyone else.
"My dad told me to give you these," he handed me two old loaves of bread.
"Are you serious?" I asked.
"Yes, he told me to give them to you," he explained.
"Tell him that the entire District Home thanks him!" I exclaimed and started to run back to the Home with an extra spring in my step. People had given me things before on Reaping Day, but never had I received anything this generous.
"And Claire," he called again.
"Yes."
"Good luck," Peeta said. "I know you need it."
"You too," I replied. With one last smile I was gone. As soon as I reached the Home I burst into the attic to see Logan.
"You won't believe what I got!" I exclaimed.
"What?" he asked. As I showed him the bread and fish his jaw dropped.
"Is this bread from the bakery?"
"Peeta gave it to me," I stated.
"I always knew I liked that kid," he laughed. I ripped off two small chunks of the bread and tossed one to him.
"Mmm," we moaned as we bit into the bread. It was only starting to get stale. If we were ever lucky enough to get the baker's bread, it usually had mold on it, but this was completely clean.
"Claire, you have to promise me something," Logan said.
"What?"
"If you get reaped you have to eat all the capitol food you can," he proposed.
"Even if I wasn't promising you, I would," I joked. We spent another hour just talking. It was our Reaping Day tradition. Since it was extremely likely one of us would be in the capitol in just a day's time.
After I had finished getting ready I looked at myself in the mirror. I was wearing a plaid greyish brown dress. It only reached my knees. The warden's gave us their old reaping outfits and we all shared them, but this was my favorite. I had worn it since I was fifteen. My dark brown hair hung down, reaching just a few inches past my shoulders; Reaping Day was the only time that I let my hair down.
I almost looked pretty. My hollow cheeks, sorrowful eyes and the dark circles under them prevented me from achieving pretty, but in another life I could have been beautiful.
I looked around at the other girls in the dormitory, braiding hair and comparing dresses. It made me smile, no matter what the circumstances were, girls would always be girls. I wiped a tear from my cheek.
If I made it through the reaping, I would only have a year left here before I had to leave the Home. I would miss them, I was scared for them. I wouldn't be there to comfort them when they had nightmares, or tell them they were beautiful, and that I loved them. I had faith that one of the girls would step up and take my place, but the whole purpose of my life had been protecting them and without that I would be empty.
I told myself to stop thinking about it, when Loretta, a girl who would most likely take my place when I left, came up to me.
"You look really nice," she stated.
"You too," I replied, and she started to cry. "Hey, hey what's wrong?"
"I took out a tesserae," she confessed. "I know you don't want anyone to but I had to… I had to."
"It's okay, It's okay," I comforted, it's true I don't want anyone besides Logan and myself to take out tesseraes but I wouldn't be angry if they did. "Listen, you did what you thought you had to do. I get it you want to help them."
She was still crying, "I just don't want to go into the arena. I'm only fourteen, I could never win."
"Loretta, if you get chosen I will volunteer for you," I promised.
"But you said yourself they we can't volunteer," she protested.
"No, I said no one can volunteer for me, I would always volunteer for one of you," I assured her. "Now stop crying you have to look pretty today."
I smiled at her and wiped her tears away. She threw her arms around me and pulled me into a hug.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Slowly, we all walked out to the square where we'd be separated into different lines depending on our age. I waited patiently in the line for registration. When I got to the front they jerked my hand toward them and stabbed my finger to get some blood.
After I reclaimed my hand, I jogged over to the other eighteens. I found Logan and he took my hand. There we stood waiting for Effie Trinket, District 12's escort, to begin her long speech.
It was the same as every year; explaining how the Hunger Games was a punishment for when the Districts rebelled years ago. I didn't care. Like most people I hated the Capitol with a passion. They live in luxury while we starve and freeze to death. They watch us bleed out for entertainment. I wish there was something I could do. Something I could do to show them that they can't control everything, but if I did I would be killed and so would everyone at the Home and I could never risk that.
"Now welcome to the 74th Hunger Games, may the odds be ever in your favor!" Effie exclaimed. "Lady's first."
She reached her gloved hand into a glass bowl. I held my breath. Over a hundred of the names in there were mine. It seems impossible to me that the name she pulls will not be mine. Making a big show of it, she plucks a piece of paper out of the glass bowl and reads it.
"Primrose Everdeen!"
"NO!" cries a voice. Primrose Everdeen. Katniss' little sister. I barely knew her and even though I feel some relief that it isn't me, I feel completely awful. Prim knew me. She had befriended some of the younger girls in the Home and was a joy to be with. It was common knowledge that her father had been killed in a mining accident, but she was still cheerful.
"I VOLUNTEER!" screamed the same voice I heard ago. Katniss Everdeen runs up to take Prim's place on the stage. Prim is screaming and sobbing for her sister. Everyone is crying. Everyone knew the sisters. Everyone knows that they mean the world to each other, even just witnessing this is heartbreaking.
I feel someone push through the eighteens' section, and Gale goes on stage and pries Prim away from Katniss. Effie complains about there being protocols for this sort of things, but she lets it go.
"And what's your name," she asks.
"Katniss Everdeen."
"I bet that was your sister, wasn't it?"
"Yes." I can see the hate boiling behind Katniss' eyes.
"Now onto the boys," Effie says and reaches that same retched hand into the second glass bowl. "Peeta Mellark!"
Peeta, I watch him make his way up to the stage. No one volunteers. Everyone is silent.
"And now, this is a very special year for District Twelve." Effie explains. "This year District Twelve has been selected to bring forth another tribute."
Ceremoniously, she dumps the two bowls into another, larger one.
"And now our third and final tribute…"
I hold my breath and squeeze Logan's hand even tighter. My heart is about to pound right out of my chest. If neither Logan's nor my name is pulled out we will never be tributes.
"Claire Moore!"
And my heart drops.