Thanks to all who reviewed!
--x
It was too early for anyone to have to wake up, but my alarm clock rang anyway. I extended my fist, and hit the little beast until it would not be ringing again any time soon. It hurt a bit, but pounding on the clock was incredibly satisfying.
By then I was awake, so I pulled myself out of bed, and yawned. Too. Early. Sure, it was reaping day, but wasn't that a time to sleep in?
Chandra knocked, loudly. Apparently, breakfast was ready. Whoop-de-do. It turned out to be boiled eggs and beef gravy, my favorite, but I barely had time to enjoy it. My mom sent me out to the garden, to pick vegetables.
All the time I spend out their, pulling up weed after weed, has contributed to my hair's slight color change. From a decent, pale brown to blonde. Of course, I hate it. People think I'm an idiot now, not hat I can really blame them, but it's before they get to know me. Thankfully, so much time in the sun toughened me up.
I took in a small woven basket of peppers and squash, all that's growing. When I got back into the house, mom nodded, and sent me upstairs to get dressed for the reaping. She planned on wearing something 'special'. I planned on wearing clothes.
She came in to 'check that what I was wearing would be appropriate, and ended up forcing me into a blue button down that 'brings out my eyes, and black pants. To hell with my eyes, I just wanted to be comfortable, in case I was chosen.
I've trained a bit, but I never really liked the instructors my mom hired. So I just fool around with my dad's old sword. Some of my friends had serious training obsessions, but I prefer to hang around the house, and date around a bit.
We had to leave sooner than I'd expected.
Time just can't stand to be on my side, for once, can it?
The square was still almost empty when we arrived. I had plenty of time to find a good seat with the Sixteens. The few people who were already in attendance were placing bets, muttering to each other, and generally ignoring me.
They wouldn't do that if I was a tribute. It would be okay, I guess. If there was a sword I could grab, and a decent girl from District Two. Maybe even like a vacation, from my mom. But I wouldn't volunteer.
Slowly, the square filled up. Several Sixteens jostled my, trying to get the best spot, but when I wan to, I have a really good death glare. That shut them up pretty quick.
Our mayor was definitely late, but no one ever tells her that. She won the Hunger games a few years back. Probably rips your throat out if you give her cold coffee.
She gave a speech about how awesome the Capitol is, and though most of the idiots around me where hanging on to every word, I leaned back in my seat. She gives the same speech every single year, then expects us to listen.
I'm pretty glad to have sat far back enough to be nondescript.
The escort is new this year, bumped up from District Four. The fish-faces. He really didn't look that... Special. Except for his hair, which seemed to change colors. Some Capitol fashion, or whatever. Made him look like even more of a moron than he most likely is.
Finally, the Mayor gestured at him to make his speech. It's always really short. This year was no exception.
"This year's Hunger Games will be better than ever! Enjoy them. Happy Hunger Games!"
Short, and definitely not sweet. But the action was finally beginning, and he crossed the stage to pick the girl's name.
Merope Suhail. A Fourteen.
Huh. Never heard of her. She shook like a leaf as she climbed up the steps to the stage, and I felt a bit bad for her. Stupid Capitol.
Luckily, when volunteers are called, these two Seventeens volunteer. But the dark one, she's pretty angry about it, and she all but kills the other girl with just two blows. I pitied whatever guy got stuck with her; she's not exactly the ideal girl to spend the rest of your life with.
The ugly-haired man goes to pick the male tribute's name. I'm sort of hoping it won't be me. I really don't want to get anywhere near the crazy Seventeen.
Well, luck may have favored 'Merope', but it sure as hell hates Soren Kailash. My name. I sigh, inwardly of coarse. I can tell that to show weakness to that Seventeen is to sign a death sentence.
Now I could only hope that someone would volunteer for me. Unlikely, by the look she's giving the crowd. The suggestion of volunteering is greeted with an unusual silence. For the males, we usually have tributes lining up around the stage. Just my luck.
I'm stuck with Psycho.
Usually, our district's tributes don't have visitors. I'm the exception; my brother comes to visit me. Only three minutes, but it's time I don't have to spend alone with Psycho. More valuable than gold.
A peacekeeper takes me to a little room in the justice building, where I see my brother for the first time in four years. Mom doesn't let him in the house anymore.
"Soren..." He tried to start. But he stopped himself, and sighed. He looked nervous. Very nervous.
"Don't get killed, little bro," he says, quietly.
The last time I saw him, I was twelve. I can't help but run over like a little kid, and hug him. We don't really talk, just sit there. I know if Psycho has her way, I'll never just sit with him again. She kind of reminds me of mom, and that makes her less terrifying. Though she's an opponent.
"Why don't you come by any more, Joseph?" I asked, though I knew the answer perfectly well.
"Mom won't let me. I was replaced, remember? Her big star was replaced by a volunteer. Who won."
We stop talking again. I feel like a kid, and I hate it.
A Peacekeeper tells us that time is up, and I have to walk away, trying not to be emotional. I have games to win, and a Psycho to kill.
Weakness is the last thing I need.
--x
Soren was less of a Cato then I expected he'd be. But who knows what will happen to him in the Arena? Especially with Psycho... I mean, Kali. ;D