The arena is something that scared me for as long as I can remember. It scared my parents more. There were times where my mother would come into our rooms at night just to make sure we were still there. Other times she would come into the room to calm me down and hold me tight until I could fall asleep again. She did that for all of us.
Being the son of a victor of the Hunger Games, we were better fed than the rest of the district, but not by much. One of mother's friends won her games because she could go hungry longer than everyone else. If we were bound for the games, she wanted to give us every possible advantage.
Our parents and grandparents were always so careful with everything they did and say. It didn't really sink in why until I was almost nine years old. Just like when my brother and sister were born, Father took us to a friend's house when Mother went into labor. The previous two times I had gone to the mayor's house, but because of the Victory Tour that house was going to be chaos and so we went to the North's.
Tomas and Lillian North played games in the little space they had when the shouting starts. At first I was curious what was going on when Tomas went to investigate but when he came back he was pushing for us to go to the back room.
"Tom?"
"They started a riot," says Tomas. "Keep the kids down."
I'm not sure how long we stayed huddled in the back when someone came in through the front door.
"Tomas North?"
Lillian grabbed onto her husband's sleeve for him to stay, but he didn't and walked into the front room. I couldn't hear most of the conversation, but I hear 'Peacekeepers fired into the crowd'.
"Lil I'll be right back," said Tomas.
Lillian stands up and goes to the door, "Don't you dare leave Tomas North."
"If they find him here, they'll think Falon had something to do with it and kill them."
Soon Lillian returns and moves us back to the ground. More time passes and Tomas returns. Hardly a minute passes when there's loud banging on the front door with orders to open up.
White uniformed Peacekeepers barge in with guns at the ready as soon as the door opens. Lillian stands protectively between us and the Peacekeepers.
"Tomas and Lillian North?" says one.
"That's us, sir," Tomas says. "And our houseguests, Boron, Rotor, and Clea Welkin. Falon Dawnson's children."
The terrifying man turns sharply to us. "What are they doing here?"
Lillian speaks up, "Falon went into labor yesterday. The kids came to stay with us until the baby comes."
"Very well. No one is to leave their homes except for work. You will be escorted by Peacekeepers when your shift comes. Anyone violating this rule will be shot on sight."
"Understood," says Tomas.
With that the band of four Peacekeepers leaves. Tomas leans up against the door and takes a few deep breaths. "Lil, start rationing the food."
The next day, Tomas returns home pale faced. Lillian sends us to the back room. We hear her gasp a couple times when Tomas walks in.
"We've got to talk," he says.
He breaks it to us as gently as possible. Mother was taken to the capitol and Grandpa Jay is dead. My nightmares wake me up several times in the night. They've gotten so bad for all of us that Tomas and Lillian just stay in the room rather than go to their own bed.
A week passes and the only thing I know about my mother is that she was taken by the capitol. I overheard Tomas one time that he 'didn't want to scare the kids' with the rumors of what happened to her. As for Father and his parents, they sent us letters letting us know how much they love us and hope to be with us soon.
Food is running out quickly. Father sends some home with Tomas every day, but that is running low also. Our rations get smaller by the day and we learn what it is to really starve. I hate it, but there's nothing I can do. Clea curls up in a little ball most the day. Lillian has a hard time getting her to eat anything. Rotor and I try to help but she just doesn't want to eat.
Peacekeepers enter the house again, this time for us. Lillian and Tomas want to come with us, but they aren't allowed. Clea isn't able to make it far before she collapses.
"What's this?"
"She's hungry sir," I say.
I'm unnerved by the slight twitch in his lip that's almost a smile. "Get her up."
"Rotor, help me get her on my back," I say. Rotor nods and makes sure she is secured before we keep walking. I'm not as strong as I thought I was as I struggle to keep up with the Peacekeepers.
We're taken to the Justice Building where we sit and wait in the area where tributes say goodbye to their families before going to the arena. A woman comes in with box containing a strange looking device. All of us get a shot to the arm and without a word she packs up her things and leaves.
And then we meet him, Marcus Panthra. He stares at us for awhile before saying, "You must be hungry."
Rotor and I nod, but Clea has fallen asleep again. Food is brought in, but we can't eat much. Marcus watches us as we nibble on the bread. It's not an unkind look like the other man, but something different rests behind his eyes. I would've never guessed it was sympathy.
We stay in the Justice Building for hours when Marcus returns. "Up you get. I'm taking you home."
Rotor and I exchange looks of surprise before we follow him with our sister to an awaiting car. I've never been in a car before, only heard about them from mother. My curiosity on how it works grows and the entire drive I resist the urge to see what each button does. Rotor's curiosity is kept in check by fear for this man otherwise I'm sure the buttons would've been tried twice.
The door opens again and we're instructed to get out. I can hardly believe it, we're home. Father takes us all at once and hugs us holding back tears. I breathe in his familiar scent on his shirt and curl up against him.
"Thank you," Father says.
Marcus looks at us for a moment. "You're a rare person, Grayson Welkin."
Then something strange happens, Marcus gives Father a chess piece. Father quickly wipes off the look of shock on his face and stares at him. "Can you tell me anything about Falon?"
"No," Marcus answers firmly. "I haven't asked. I can't appear to be attached to her otherwise this thing gets handed over to someone else. I prefer to get my own hands dirty. If she's still alive, Messalina will do everything to keep it that way. She's not the type you'd want to underestimate."
