Ambel's POV
I stop midway to my brother's bedroom, paralyzed with fear. My sight begins to go blurry, then it comes. I kneel on the ground, in between my parents' clutched fingers.
"Momma, momma, don't go!" I scream. Jare throws himself on our father, clutching him as death begins to take him.
"No, no!" he screams. I press my small hand to my mother's abdomen, trying to stop the constant flow of blood. Her lovely voice reaches my ears.
"It's too late, Ambel, it's too late." I stare into her hazel green eyes, watching as they slowly close and she takes her last breath. I turn to my father now, but it's too late; he is gone as well. I restrain my brother from leaping onto my father's still form. He jumps into my arms, sobbing.
"Ambel," my brother says as he shakes me. "You okay?" he asks. I nod.
"Let's get ready," I chirp, a little too cheerfully. I wipe the single tear that has fallen down my face. It used to be worse. The flashbacks, the nightmares, they used to be horrible. I would wake up screaming and crying hysterically, and wouldn't calm down for hours. I remember my little brother's face illuminated by the moonlight in the doorway of my room, as the kind old lady next door calmed me down. I rinse my long, curly, black hair in the sink, brushing through it. I glance in the mirror and pull my tube of lip-gloss out. My mouth was huge when I was little and still is.
I take my brother's hand as we leave the house. I knock on the old woman's door. This is a kind of tradition we do, every year since my parents died, my brother and I come to her house and walk with her to the reaping. After a couple of minutes Jare becomes impatient and knocks again. I try to look in through the window, but see nothing. So we go around back and go through the back door. The house looks the same as always, except for the bedroom door being open. I quickly pad in and sigh. There, head rested on the back of the rocking chair, is old Maya. I smile to myself and quietly reach out my arm to her forehead. Now that I swiveled her around, she looks deathly pale.
"Jare, go to the reaping, I'll meet you there!" I yell. He shuffles out the door quickly. I lay my ear against her chest; there is no heartbeat. I lift her up and tuck her in bed, kissing her forehead lightly. I head out the door. I bump into the table and a beautiful woven seashell necklace falls to the floor. There is a piece of paper on the table. "For you, my dear Ambel," it says. I collapse in a chair and begin to sob. I sit there for a long time before I tie the necklace around my neck and leave to go to the town square. Amie is already on stage, and bubbly and obnoxiously Capitol as ever. I head to the 16 year old roped-off area and stand among my friends.
"Ambel Silver," Her voice rings out. My body stiffens and I freeze in place. My friend pushes me lightly and I take a step forward. The stage looks so high from the place I am standing. Amie reaches her hand to me and I take it. Silent tears fall down my face as Amie calls the boy up. I can't win, the odds are not in my favor. My mom died, my dad died, Maya died, I died. I'm already gone.
Rylan's POV
I grab my sister Lily's carefully woven fishing nets in one fist, feeling the weight of fresh seafood still squirming, trying to get away. Whatever, fish. You're stupid enough to swim into a net, you deserve to get eaten. I dunk my head underwater, trying to fix my messy blonde hair. It's so full of salty water, there's no way to de-messify it.
As soon as I see the next big wave headed towards me, I dive, headfirst, into it, riding it expertly all the way back to shore. It's become a comfort ritual for me, to start my mornings alone, swim in the vast expanse of cerulean ocean, retrieve the nets we place every night so that we'll have tons of crabs, fish, and the occasional octopus to sell for other stuff. I used to have a real problem of not being able to keep my emotions in check, being way too open about whatever I thought was sad or unfair. Naturally, that didn't work too well and always got me in trouble. So my dad put me through months and months of mental training to "toughen me up". It worked, but I still take comfort in little things like this.
Dragging the net along behind me, I run up the shore, winking flirtatiously to the occasional attractive teenage girl. I put my shirt on over my swim trunks, and begin my jog home. Not too far, considering I live right on the beach with my dad and little sister. I wipe my feet on the woven grass doormat, and step inside.
"Good haul today," Lily says, staring, impressed, at the net I carry. "Lots of crab for us today."
"Well, I know how much you like them," I laugh, mussing her long, blonde hair. "I really think the new bait's working well."
"Hey, Rylan!" my dad calls. "Give me the fish, I'll start washing them. You, sir, need to get cleaned up for the reaping."
"Yeah, he looks like a sea monster," Lily giggles.
"You'll have to go to the reaping next year," my dad scolds. "You always need to look your best in case you get picked." With that, he strides away, and Lily sticks her tongue out at him as he leaves. I go shower and comb out my shaggy hair, and within a half hour, I'm ready to depart for the square. My dad and I walk in silence the entire way.
"Good luck, son," he tells me, patting me on the back as some Peacekeepers herd me off with the other seventeen-year-olds. I entertain myself through the reading of the Treaty by locating the hottest girl around me. It's kind of hard when everyone's looking so worried and clenching their teeth, but I don't blame them. I'm sure the Games will be the hardest thing I'll ever do, but I'm determined just to go and win so that I'll bring honor and glory to my district and family. I just hope that I'll be able to ally with the Career pack.
Amie Jeranamo, our Capitol escort, calls some girl named Ambel, and no one volunteers for her. She just stands on the stage, shaking and crying. As bloodthirsty as I might have to be, I hope I don't have to kill her. Before Amie can even call a boy's name, my hand shoots straight up.
"I volunteer!" I yell confidently. As Amie blabbers on and on about how exciting it is to have a volunteer, I stride up to the stage, and stand across from the crying girl. She looks at me, petrified through her tears, as if I'm already trying to kill her. We shake hands, then she takes a step back from me. I'll do everything I can to win this thing, I think. To honor my family, and my district. As long as I don't have to kill her.