Wow, I'm not even going to lie, writing District One was a bit difficult. I hope the length is all right and that I did you character justice. Also, D1-D4 are going to be train rides. D5-D8 will be train rides. D9-D12 will be chariots. After that I will do a mismatch of characters. I don't think I'm going to do a sponsoring system, but if you leave detailed reviews I'll be sure to genuinely consider ideas for your tributes...and by ideas I don't mean "they make the top ten" or "they win", I mean something like, "They get sent a spear to defend themselves against other tributes" or even "they make so and so fall in love them, but then has a killer streak and kills them in their sleep".
"where can you run to, to escape from yourself" switchfoot
Silence. I always seem to wake up to silence. It's strange how in District one the entire town is celebrating for the reapings, yet my family is peacefully resting as though today was just another generic day. I felt oddly lethargic today; my muscles were sore from intensive training, my brain was thumping from beneath my skull, and my eyelids refused to open. Get up you lazy bum, I thought to myself. I opened my eyes-hey, at least it prevents me from sleeping. I gazed over at my walls. Photographs of my various sports awards, as well as the medals themselves, lined my walls forming a collage of my superiority. Instead of reflecting my glorious past I looked up at my "popcorn" ceiling. It's odd, when I was a small child I used to find designs and pictures in the various dots. Now all I could find was a jumbled mess of confusion. Who need's frivolous games anyways?
I had bigger games today. That's right, today I was going to volunteer for the 100th Hunger Games. With this sudden burst of excitement I leaped out of bed and grabbed my reaping clothing off my dresser. Normally teenagers from our district go all out, purchasing capital clothing, updating their hair, and even getting tattoos and piercings. I however wanted to show off my training at the prestigious Careers in Training Boarding School of the Elite. I had trained at the CTBS since the age of 5. It was tough work earning my way up to the top single handed…but I was finally ready. I put on my gray slacks, a blood red undershirt, and a black blazer with the schools emblem in the right corner. I still needed something…I looked frantically around my chaos of a room until finally discovering the medal approval hidden in my knife's sheath. I had stolen it from my roommate, but he had died later that week from a shooting accident. Not everyone had my precise and accurate aim. I shrugged, forgetting what memory was left of my only friend…no, friends were for the weak, I needed no friends. Luckily the medal had no inscription or indication of the original owner, so I could freely claim it as my own. It would make a heroic touch to my valiant uniform.
Suddenly I heard my fathers deep and agonizing groan from across the house. My father was a loud man that loved to make an entreance. In fact that was one of the few things my father loved. I avoided my father whenever possible. He prized me as his son, but only because I was an amazing liar. He believed I was the best fighter and student. Although, I had been the one to show him the glinting medals and awards. In return, when I came back home he would give me a nod and tell me to work harder. I laugh to myself. Not even my lies are good enough to win his affection. Not that I want it, I don't need others approval. Although it would be nice to finally be wanted. I'm interrupted in m,y thoughts by my fathers typical morning call, "Get out here boy!" Good ol' day always did make me feel welcome. "You're going to volunteer today, right?" he said as though the answer was obvious. "Of course I will, but it is the quarter quell…". My dad looked at me with such disgust, if our kitchen wasn't so well lit I would've hid in the corner. "but? What do you mean but, you'll be remember as one of the three most important victors!". I paused this was the fourth quarter Quell, four important victors. "Dad there are four", "we don't mention the the third quarter quell son" he said in a gruff and hushed voice. "Yeah I'll be one of the bloodthirsty greats" I say feeling my voice grow strangely shallow.
Often the 15 year old section boys would socialize and flirt, but I knew that those kinds of things were a distraction from why I practiced at the CTBS for a decade. Wow I just realized how long I had been there…and they say I'm not old enough to understand life. Unexpectedly a girl with long blond hair and seductive chocolate eyes appeared from behind. "Hey Matt, I hear you're going to volunteer" she said slowly leaving me hanging on her every word. A grin appeared on my face and I replied, "Well I'm defiantly the most fit to out of all these wimps". She looked around, then looked me over and rolled eyes. "Listen, if you want to volunteer don't, I need a strong career pack this year" she said as she turned on her heels to leave as quickly as she came. She thinks she can tell me not to volunteer, well it's going to be my games not hers. Why did she care anywise? It's not like she was going to volunteer. The mayor mounted the stage and slowly began his speech. The capitol was so grand for allowing us such a quick and easy way to fame. I had memorized this speech by heart, after my CTBS pledge it was one of the few things I believed in. As our escort slowly joined her place beside the mayor the entire district was practically blinded. Frucille Grant had sparkling silver skin embedded with diamonds. Her neon pink hair was in long flowing curls, and her pink plastic dress was so thin, when the wind began to increase everyone thought it would blow away. "Hey District One!" she said in a heavy and think capital accent. "Let's do female first!" She said beaming with excitement. She was probably more excited for the paycheck than the tributes. " RachealDouglas, it's your lucky year". "I volunteer!" A silk smooth voice appeared form the 18 year old section. Slowly the thin muscular girl who had discouraged me of volunteering calmy walked to the stage waering a sly smile. "What's your name?" Frucille asked. "Opal Fallfern, victor of the 100th hunger games". "Next on to the boys" Frucille sang. "Ronald Re-" "I voulenteer" I shouted. I ran quickly up to the stage wearing a confident smaile. "My name is Matthew Roderick and I am 15 year olds" I said as though I was entering an answer for a game show. "Fantastic, now please shake hands". I grabbed Opals hand in mine and squeezed until I saw her flinch.
As we turned to leave I whispered, "and remember I want a good career pack so don't ruin it for me."
We were ushered to say our goodbyes, but I already knew only my father would visit. My two older brothers were more concerned with which party to attend after the reapings. My mother, Kathrin…would make it, but she was a little preoccupied with death. That's when my father decided to enter. "Good job you voulenntered!" He said with the first smaile I had seen on his face since mother was around. "Yup…you think I will when?" I said honestly curious. "If not the female tribute looks promising" I frowned, of course my father wouldn't encourage me, I had to lower my hopes. "I'll definatly make the careers though". He looked me over, "Yeah just act confident and proud and you'll be fine". "Dad I already am confident and proud, and I'm ten times more mature than half of the dim wits picked as tributes". For once in my life my dad paused without certainty in what he was going to say. Then he spoke up, "Son you still have a lot of maturing to go, those medals and awards aren't going to save you. I want you to come out of there looking like a man and as glorious as those medals surrounding your room." He was quickly rushed out of the room but before he left I said calmly,
"Well you know dad all that glitters is gold"
I hope ya'll liked it, it was definatly dificult to get in the head of career, but I hope it wasn't compleatly and utterly awful. Reviews would definatly be appreciated to know what you liked/hated and any improvements I could make :D