Chapter One
Part One: The Decision
"Catch this one!" my best friend, Kyan says, tossing a grape in the air.
I run forward and catch the small round fruit in my mouth.
"I am officially the master at this." I say, chewing my grape loudly, to show off.
We're not supposed to be goofing off like this on the job, but there's nothing else to do besides sit and watch sheep graze. We have to protect the herd of sheep in case a wild dog or mountain lion decides to attack the herd. I'm equipped with a spear while Kyan has a bow. I've been practicing with the spear for a while now. I used to help pick crops like most kids my age, but the managers recognized my talents and made me one of the only female sheep guards. I really like this job a lot better than my old one, especially now that I get to work with my best friend.
Our district is the agriculture district. It's District 11 out of currently 12 districts in Panem. There used to be a thirteenth district, but it got destroyed when it tried to rebel against our Capitol. I don't blame them for trying to do so. The Capitol of Panem is cruel and ruthless. If I could do something to rebel, I certainly would. But I'm one voice in thousands, the others, excluding Kyan, are too scared to do anything. They have good reason for fear. The law enforcements (Peacekeepers) will severely punish you for a lot of things, even merely talking about rebellion.
"What's that?" Kyan says suddenly, raising his bow.
"Very, funny." I remark. It's been a while since we actually had to kill something on the job. We get paid extra for every carcass, and both of our families need the money.
Kyan has one older brother named Baric, younger twin sisters named Jasmine and Jermanie, and only a father. I just live with my mother. My father died before I was born, so I have no other siblings.
"No, seriously." Kyan says.
I tighten my hands on the spear and watch the woods intently, ready to lunge at any sign of movement. Since the herds of sheep are placed outside of the district, wild animals can come at any time, but they usually don't because they know that we can kill them easily.
"There!" Kyan roars as a wild dog emerges from the woods.
Growling and emaciated the dog and another pounce towards us. Kyan releases and arrow that pierces one dog. The other plunges at me. I thrust my spear forward and through the dog. The animal is dead before it reaches me. I withdraw my spear and let the bloody mess of fur fall to the ground.
"Well, at least we've got dinner." Kyan remarks grimly.
We're not supposed to take anything from outside the district, especially hunted animals. Since we had to kill them though, the Peacekeepers at the sheep farm let us bring the animals home. We just have to be very careful about who knows about the kills.
"Do you think there's any more?" I ask.
"I don't know, usually they travel in larger packs." Kyan says.
I pause for a moment. It really is nice to have more kills; we need the money and the food. District 11 is a very poor district. Lots of families starve, that's part of the reason why they start kids at work at such a young age.
"I'm going to check the woods out." I say, raising my spear and creeping towards the trees.
"Be careful, Luce." Kyan says.
My real name is Lucilile. I really hate it when people pronounce it, Lucille. I always have to correct teachers by slowly articulating "Loo-ci-ly-uhl." I have to admit, my name is tricky to read, but once you get the hang of saying it, it rolls of your tongue easily. Kyan always likes to sing it, his voice soaring up and down between every syllable.
My feet hit the rough ground of the woods and my whole body goes tense. A person can be killed by a pack of wild dogs. I shiver when I think about what a mountain lion could do to me. I see a flash of brown to my left. I wheel around and ready my spear. Another flash of brown-gray sends my whirling the other way. Where are the dogs? Something hits my leg and I fall forward, hands first into a thorny tree.
"Lucy!" I hear Kyan scream.
Pain shoots through me, especially my left arm, which I used to protect myself. I roll off of the tree and land on the forest floor. I pick myself off the ground, ready to be pummeled by vicious animals. Nothing happens. My left arm throbs and I look over to see blood pouring out of it.
"Are you okay?" Kyan asks, rushing to my side.
"I'm fine." I reply as Kyan helps me up.
"You sure?" he asks. "You're really bleeding."
I glance at my arm. Kyan's right. I really must've cut my arm bad. There's a long, red slash that runs along my forearm. Blood is pouring out of it, making me want to vomit.
"Let's go back and clean that up." Kyan says.
We walk back to our usual positions. My arm doesn't cease to bleed. Kyan takes a chunk of gauze from our first aid kit and wraps my arm in it. After that's done, he wraps a bandage tightly around it.
"That should do." I say, looking at my bundled arm. It hurts a lot, but I've never been one to express my pain. Pain is vulnerability, vulnerability could be death.
"I sure hope so." Kyan says with a hint of worry. "Hey, you know, do you think we should go back to the base and get that checked out?"
"No, no, I'll last another two hours." I say.
It's Saturday and we work from nine in the morning to five at night. On school days, we work from five at night to seven.
"Don't be embarrassed, if you can't walk, I can carry you." Kyan says. It's true, with his muscles, he could carry me all the way back to the base.
"I can walk." I snap. "I just don't need to."
I wouldn't be worrying at all if Kyan wasn't so concerned. Kyan can sense my rising worry, he's been my best friend for ten years. We became friends when we were seven and just started out picking crops. Four years ago, when we were thirteen, we got promoted to this position of sheep guard. It's more interesting and pays a lot more than picking corn.
Kyan cleans the kills and divides the meat so the seven people we have to feed all get the same amount of food. As the hours pass by, both of us notice the blood seeping through my bandage.
"Are you okay?" Kyan asks tentatively.
"I already said, I'm fine." I say, not so sure this time. Why am I bleeding so much? The wound shouldn't have caused this much damage. I put on a straight face and try not to worry. Kyan sees through me, as always.
"Just ten more minutes, Lucy." He says soothingly.
I grit my teeth and nod. The pain is increasing, but bearable. The minutes go by more slowly than what seems possible. Finally, I see the next pair coming in to take over our shift.
"Let's go." Kyan says. He looks at me unsurely. "Are you sure you don't need help getting back?"
"It's my arm that's got a problem, not my leg." I force a laugh. Of course, the pretend joking doesn't fool Kyan. Why did I even try it on him when I know it's useless?
We walk back to the base. Walking thankfully doesn't hurt my arm anymore than the pain that currently stabs through it. I keep telling myself in my mind that this is temporary; pain is the body's reaction to things to tell you that it will be over.
"Let's get a little extra money." Kyan says with a grin as we approach the base building.
"Get anything?" The manager asks us.
"Two wild dogs." Kyan says, opening his backpack and laying the evidence on the table.
"Very good." The manager remarks. He hands us our bonus pay and we head on out.
"What is your mother going to say about that arm?" Kyan asks.
"She'll want to get it checked out." I say.
"Of course she will." Kyan says with a smile.
Ever since my father died, my mother has worried over every little thing. I've never known what she was like before my father died, I wonder if she'll ever be the same.
"Bye." I say to Kyan as we part ways.
"Bye." Kyan says, clearly wanting to say something more. Kyan lives two streets down from me, our houses aren't that far of a walk away from the sheep farm.
I take a deep breath as I go up to my house door. I savor this one moment of serenity before my mother will see my arm. I step into my house, bracing myself.
"Hey, honey, how was work?" my mom asks.
The sweet aroma of supper cooking wafts into my nose. My mouth waters. I really am hungry.
"Good." I reply. "We killed two wild dogs."
"Did you?" my mom says. "That's great!"
I walk into the kitchen and my mother spots my arm.
"Oh, Lucy!" she cries. "What happened?"
"I scratched my arm on a thorny tree." I say pathetically.
My mother stands in the kitchen, her jaw drooping.
"The blood-it's soaking through!" She exclaims.
"Time for a new bandage?" I say.
My mother abandons dinner and runs to the bathroom. She pulls out a first aid kit.
"In here, please." She says.
I have a choice. I either refuse to go to the bathroom and eventually lose to my mother and end up going, or I can go down easily. Reluctantly, I trudge to the bathroom.
"Okay, I'm going to be careful. Lay your arm out." my mother instructs.
I set my arm down on the counter and my mother gingerly peels the bandages off.
"You bleed this much from scraping a thorn?" my mother asks.
"I guess so!" I reply.
My mother pours water over my cut and dries it. Then, she adds a small amount of infection cream, though it isn't the best quality, it's better than nothing. Then, my mother wraps my arm back up. My mother looks at me with a concerned expression.
"What?" I say.
"It's just that..." she says, cutting herself off.
"It's just that what?" I ask.
"I don't know." My mother says, shaking her head and putting the first aid kit away.
Now I'm really worried.
"I'll be fine." I say. Who am I kidding? Both my mom and I are worried. "Just relax." I tell myself. "It's just a scrape."
I try to shake it off and go out to the kitchen to eat supper.
At night I toss and turn, coated with perspiration, unable to fall asleep. Barely awake, I mumble and roll over, hoping my mother doesn't notice. And hoping that it will be all better when the morning comes.