District 7

4 Hours before the Reaping.

Leah wakes up, tears in her eyes. She had that dream again, the one where everything was completely dark. In this dream it was remarkably cold, and sitting across the dark marble floor: is her mother.

"Mom?" Leah asks, her hands shaking.

But her mothers back is turned to her, facing the sea of black emptiness. As she walks to her mother, she still doesn't move or respond. She kept shouting her name, but nothing. So she starts to run toward the chair, and when she reaches it, her mother still doesn't move.

"Mother." She whispers, and puts her hand on her shoulder.

Suddenly the body slumps down to the floor, and Leah screams. Her mothers face is obscured by her long hair. But for a reason Leah can't describe, she brushes her hair back. Underneath, lies the distorted face of her mother. Her mouth open and twisted in anguish, her nostrils flared. But the thing that terrifies Leah the most, was that her mothers eyes were as black and empty as the room in which they were in.

The dream was over, and Leah sat up in her bed. She wiped the tears away, and grabs her pillow. She screams into as loud as she can, but the pillow obscures her screams. She sat there for a second, breathing into her pillow.

"You okay?" Asked a voice coming from behind her.

She turned to see her sister, Katrina standing by the door.

Katrina was 21, nine years older then Leah. She was Leah's guiding light in this terrible world.

"Was it that dream again?" Katrina asked.

"Yeah. I thought after a few months maybe it had gone away." Said Leah quietly.

Katrina jumped on the bed and crawled over and lied down beside Leah.

" Was it the same? With mom?" She said, lying on her back looking up at Leah.

Leah nodded.

Katrina frowned, " What did she look like this time?"

Leah lowered her head, " The usual. Terrified mouth, the nose, and of course the black eyes. The only thing different was she had red hair."

"I've told you that she had blonde hair." Noted Katrina.

Leah scowled, "Well, how would I know? She died giving birth to me, that…thing in my dream probably looked nothing like her."

Katrina smiled, "Every time you think you can't picture her, just look in a mirror! You look just like her!" With that Katrina hopped off the bed and ran down the stairs screaming something about breakfast. Leah smiled, then suddenly remembered what day it was. It was the Reaping for the 67th Hunger Games. It was also Leah's first year eligible. She was terrified, but at the same time, her name was only recorded once. The odds were insurmountably in her favor. But with the way her life had gone so far, she tended not to trust the odds. It was only a few years ago when her dad had a heart attack. His group had just cut down the required load of trees for the day, when suddenly he collapsed on the very tree he had just chopped down, clutching his heart. Ever since then Katrina had been taking care of her, but sometimes Leah wondered if she worked to hard. Sometimes that smile of hers just was a little to forced. She decides to head down the stairs when she smells something amazing. It's a cinnamon, or some close relative of cinnamon, and she can hear sizzling bacon. As she pokes her head around the corner, she sees Katrina hard at work with a plethora of fine breakfast foods awaiting. On the table, freshly stacked pancakes awaited. Two plates were set up, on Leah's plate was three pancakes stacked on one another. In-between each layer of pancake was freshly cut strawberries with some sort of cream Leah couldn't recognize. Meanwhile Katrina was frying bacon over the fireplace.

"Where," Stuttered Leah, " Where? I mean- how I can we afford? Where did you get it?"

Katrina smiled, " Never you mind the details! Just enjoy!"

Leah was still curious, "What are you doing this for?"

Katrina smiled and put a slice of bacon on each of their plates.

" The Capitol forces us to go the Reaping, forces us to send some poor kid to The Hunger Games, and forces us to watch as they try to kill other kids. It's a sick tradition that we are forced to continue. But whose to say we can't have our own tradition? As far as I'm concerned, this is feast day! The day we throw caution to the wind, and eat like royalty! And then there's a thing you got to go to later, some small dumb Capitol thing, but after that, its back to feast day!" Katrina replied with a mischievous look in her eye.

Leah couldn't help but chuckle, Katrina was so exuberant. Leah did a little courtesy,

"Well, a fine feast day to you Madam!" She said giggling.

Katrina curtseyed as well, " And to you! And may the food be ever on our plates!" She said with a exaggerated capitol accent mocking what everyone says during the Hunger Games.

Leah laughed, it was good that they were doing this. It kept her mind from the Reaping.

It helped that the food was delicious, and the back and forth banter in fancy accents made it one of the best mornings in Leah's life. After the last bite of strawberry, the plate was empty but her stomach was not.

Katrina laughed, " Have you had enough?"

Leah just simply nods and lays her head on the table.

Katrina quickly does the dishes while Leah rests in her chair.

Finally Leah stands up and looks out the window.

Outside are all the children running home to get dressed up for the Reaping.

"You going to be okay?" Asked Katrina, finishing up the last dish.

Leah turned around and smiles, " How could I not? It's feast day! The most magnificent day of the year!"

She turns around and stares back at the window.

"Nothing can go wrong." She whispers, half of her believing, the other half needing to be convinced.


District 7

4 hrs before the Reaping

He sat there, eating an apple while they worked. Occasionally one of the workers would lift his head and stare at Damon Sommers, their facial expressions obviously holding back contempt. He would just smile and take another bite out of his apple. He could care less whether these people threw out their back working, after all they were building the set for the 67th annual Hunger Games. If one Capitol worker hurt himself on the job in Damon's district, it was a win in his book. The set was coming along nicely, and it would only be a few hours before it was completed and sentencing his friends to death. It was hard to have sympathy for the Capitol working struggling to untangle power cords. No, Damon was just fine with watching, and it helped that it was driving them absolutely crazy. He noticed Hans Ade was practicing his speech with an unplugged microphone. Hans Ade was a very large man, and that was putting it politely. He was bald, and bore a large grey mustache on his face. If Damon remembered from his history studies, Hans quite resembled what leading scientists believed a walrus once looked like, before they went extinct that is. Sweat was already pouring from his pompous face, causing his lime green suit to stain. Every now and then he would pull a handkerchief from the front pocket on his suit, and dab his face with it. Damon scoffed, this man was disgusting to him. Damon could never stand him, but he seemed to get more and more disgusting every year. Hans was District 7's escort, meaning he had the distinct responsibility of taking them to the Capitol, and keeping them in line during the preparation for the Hunger Games. He felt incredibly sorry for anyone that had to spend any amount of time with Hans. He tossed his apple behind him, and decided to give up bothering the Capitol workmen. After all, he could have a little pity on them, if they had to deal with the likes of Hans. He decided he would take the back roads through District 7 to get back home, through the woods. Unlike a lot of districts, the people of District 7 were given access to the woods around the district. Only for felling trees however, any hunting was strictly prohibited. But that wasn't a setback by any means, District 7 was primarily a distributor of lumber and paper. Although, from what Damon had heard about the Capitol, he wasn't entirely sure what they needed wood and paper for.

It only took about 20 minutes to get back to his house, he had become somewhat of an expert taking the quickest route back to his through trees and over fences. He ran the whole way, and by the time he got to his home, he was half delighted to see it. Then again, he was always half delighted to see it. It was a dilapidated old cabin, built by his father. It was the house he grew up in. It was also the house he saw his parents die in. Four years ago, when Damon was 12, he had just gotten home from school when he ran in and saw his mother on the floor. His father was stroking her hair, and had tears down his face. He asked what was wrong, but his father only shook his head and continued to weep. He had never seen his father like this. But he continued sitting there, stroking her hair, and whispering something. His father would later say it was an illness, but never specified what kind. They buried her the next day, his sweet little sister Caroline wept but the rain pouring that day concealed her tiny tears. But they never talked about it after that. He tried to forget the day he found his mother dead on the floor, and it wasn't until a few months later that just when he was starting to feel happy again, that he found his father. This time, his father was laying on the floor, and a Peacekeeper was in his kitchen. Damon asked what happened to his father, and the peacekeeper grabbed a cigarette,

"He got sick." He said, fumbling with the lighter.

The man went on to explain that his little sister Caroline had ran up to him and said her father had collapsed, and he needed help.

A group of them came later and picked up his father, and threw him into the back of their car, and left. He never even got to bury him. He tried thousands of times to ask his little sister if what they said was true, but she never spoke a word of it. In fact, after that day, she never spoke a word of anything. She hadn't uttered a single word since that day, not even alone with him. After that, he had to take care of her, taking more hours at the Lumber Yard, purchasing and cooking their food, and taking out Tessarae whenever he had to. But the time he was sixteen, he felt like he had already lived the life and had the responsibilities of an older man. That's why he was half delighted to see his home, he hated the memories associated with it, but loved his sister who was in it right now. He saw her step out the front door.

She was 11, and her hair was a bright blonde, like her mother. She had a beauty that just perfectly portrayed innocence and kindness. He remembered his mother to be the same. She smiled and waved at him, and then went back through the rusty doors. It amazed Damon how she could appear so happy, and yet be so hurt. As he walked into the house he caught his reflection in the mirror. He had a long day at the Lumber Mill, and that was obvious. Dirt covered his dark black hair, and around his face. He quickly wiped it off, and investigated to see how he looked. After all, the Reaping was tonight. He was just over 6-foot, and had piercing blue eyes. His tangled black hair covered most of his forehead. Years at the Lumber Yard and at the Lumber Mill had kept him strong, stronger the most 16 year olds. Most would consider him quite handsome, but he didn't care for such things. After all he had been through, things like that only seem trivial. He looked over and saw Caroline motioning for him to come outside.

"Do you want me to help you plant the sunflowers?" He asked with a grin

She smiled and ran outside.

Of course, Sunflowers really had no practical purpose other than the seeds, but she was happy when she was in the garden and that's what he wanted. It cost him a months earnings at the Lumber Mill to purchase the seeds.

He sat down in the dirt beside her, and sat silently while she surveyed the area for a place to plant her new seeds.

He grabbed a stick off the ground and periodically made holes about a foot apart.

He laughed as she stared at him with a quizzical expression.

"You want the seeds at least this far apart, if the plants grow into each other, it would hurt the growth of both plants. They need to grow separately to mature." He said, using the stick to illustrate what he was saying.

She smiled and placed one of the seeds in the first hole.

Damon looked up at the sky.

"We need to start getting ready to go for the Reaping." He said.

Caroline frowned, and looked anxious.

Damon smiled, " Its alright! I won't get chosen. I promise you! When its over, we can come back here, and check on your flowers! Maybe they will have grown by then!" Damon said, holding his hands up in the air whimsically.

Caroline smiled, but Damon could tell she knew he couldn't make such promises. Whatever he said only gave her a short respite from the pain.

He was well aware he couldn't heal that pain, or make promises like that. Knowing that made it hurt all the more.


The Reaping

Leah stared in the mirror, wearing what Katrina had picked out for her. It was a brownish dress, had a sort of familiar "home" aspect to it. She had braided her hair back, and had worked on the braids for over an hour making them right.

"You look great Leah!" Said Katrina.

Leah smiled, " I have to! Tonight is the Feast Day annual Ball!"

Katrina laughed, " Well, you best find a boy to bring! We very well can't dance with each other!"

With that they both were laughing.

"Hold on! I got something for you!" Katrina said, giddy as usual.

Suddenly, she came back holding a small jacket. It was brown, but a more earthy brown then the dress. It looked expensive.

"Where? How?" Asked Leah frantically.

"What did I say before?" Replied Katrina, "Never you mind the details!"

Leah shrugged, and Katrina helped her put it on.

"Its beautiful!" Smiled Leah.

"Its more than that. Its quite heat resistant, and waterproof."

Leah suddenly knew what this jacket was for.

Katrina smiled, "You know, in case it rains on your way to the Feast Day Ball."

Leah smiled, but they both knew what it was for.

With that, Leah decided to make her way out the front door.

As she put her foot out the door, she suddenly felt dizzy. She was about to fall over when she was caught. She looked up to see her best friend, Luna. Luna had been a family friend for Leah's whole life, she was practically as sister.

" Easy there!" She said

Leah chuckled, and got back on her two feet.

"Come one, Leah! We're going to be late!" Said Luna, pulling Leah by the hand.

They weren't going to be late, but walking kept their mind a little busy, and they needed that.

They talked the whole way, about this and that. About anything other then the Hunger Games. However, things get all to real when they reach the lines. The stage is built, and all the potential tributes are already arriving. Everyone's expression is somber, and their movements are mechanical. She can deny things all she wants, courtesy and prepare for the Feast Day Ball, but she is here now, and it is real. After all the signing in and getting blood checked, they line her up somewhere near the middle. She is terrified, her legs are shaking, and she just wishes Katrina was there.

"It's okay! If they pick one of us we can just throw a fish on the ground and Hans will jump for it and we can escape!" Said Luna, who was behind her.

Leah smiled, a forced smile, but a smile nonetheless.

Hans pointed to a woman sitting on stage.

"Everyone, please welcome last years winner, Johanna Mason!"

The woman seemed displeased to be where she was, thought Leah.

Everyone clapped, it was rare to see a district 7 winner. As soon as Hans finished with his speech about the uprising, and the honor of this all, he clapped his hands.

" Now we will find out the female tribute, if you please." He said, nearly out of breath. He motioned to one of the Peacekeepers to bring him the glass ball with the names. He reached into the bowl, and Leah held her breath. He grabbed a slip of paper, but the sweat on his hand caused it to fall out. He decided against that, and reached for a completely different slip of paper altogether.

"Somebody just got spared." Whispered Luna

Leah nodded, whoever that was will never realize how lucky they were.

"Maybe it was mine!" Said Leah, trying to lighten the mood.

" Leah Van Tassle." Announced Hans.

No.

No.

No.

No it couldn't be! Leah closed her eyes. This can't be happening.

She could feel Luna hugging her from behind,

"May the odds be ever in your favor, Leah." Whispered Luna, tears in her eyes.

Suddenly, Hans sweaty hand scooped her up on stage.

"Up you go." He stuttered.

Leah stood there facing the crowd. All the eager sad eyes anticipating her to say anything.

But all she could think of was the Feast Day Ball.

Without cognitive recognition, she curtseyed and said, "Thank you for the honor."

Hans smiled, "Its good to see a polite young lady these days. Now, we shall see who the boy to represent district 7 is!"


Damon frowned, it was never good to see 12 year old get chosen. Not even the bastards in the Capitol could like that, he thought. He thought about how Caroline was going to be available for the Hunger Games starting next year, and it sent a shiver down his spine. She was the only soul in this whole district he cared for. He hadn't made very many friends, his sarcastic and generally standoffish behavior tended to rub people the wrong way. Not to say he wasn't going to feel sorry for whomever was chosen, but he wouldn't get beat up about it. This was the way life was, there was the Hunger Games, and there was survival. He couldn't care less if he died, as long as long as Caroline was okay. Self preservation only mattered in correlation to keeping Caroline alive and happy. Before he left, he kissed her on the forehead and said, "Ill be back. Ok? Watch over the plants, and I'll bring you home a treat!"

She just nodded.

Sometimes he just wished she would talk, he wanted someone to tell him it would be alright. At least someone to talk to. But as soon as these feelings immerge, he shuts them down. He only needs himself and Caroline. He'd be fool to believe otherwise.

The girl called Leah seemed terrified, and he couldn't blame her. He wasn't scared, but he could see how she would be. Twelve year olds don't win, they just don't. That was a fact as far as he was concerned. Every year they get taken down during the initial blood bath at the Cornucopia. They just aren't fast enough. He hopes whoever is chosen decides to help her as best they can.

Hans reaches into the bowl, sweat pouring from every feasible orifice.

Come on, tubs, just pick a name. Thought Damon. It took everything in him not to shout it out.

"Alright, lets see here." Mumbled Hans.

"Ahem.."

The crowd goes silent, Damon's hand start to shake.

"Damon Sommers"

Caroline.

That was the only thought in his head. Not of himself, he only feared what would become of Caroline. Where would she get food? She too young to work, and he certainly doesn't want her taking out a Tessarae. He is about to panic ,when he realized a solution. The only obvious conclusion would be that he has to win. Its inevitable. He may not be how to handle a weapon, but he would learn. He has to. For Caroline. He would win this for her.

He decides to run onto the stage, making himself look excited about this. He pumps his fists into the air, and jumps with excitement.

"Alright! I was hoping you'd call my name, Hans!" He said and flashed a grin at the crowd.

They cheered.

He felt disgusting.

"Shake, erm, hands." Mumbles Hans, who clearly was put off by Damon's show of confidence.

Damon takes her hand. Its cold, and shaking.

But he can't think about this girl right now, if he wanted to get home to save Caroline. This girl would have to die. That was fact. As far as he was concerned, he was the only one in the Hunger Games. Everyone else was just a brick wall he had to get through.

End of District 7 Reaping.