Here is the next chapter! District 2. Hope you guys like it!
Oh, also, for the last chapter, I forgot to mention that I don't cuss. But, obviously other people do, and that includes the tributes. So if a tribute says or thinks a cuss word, than I will put a substitution word in brackets in its place, and you guys can fill in the word actually used, if you wish to. If the word isn't in brackets, than that is actually the word the tribute thought/said. It's important to recognize the difference when it comes to different tributes' personalities. ;)
DISCLAIMER: Still not mine. Neither are the characters in this chapter, besides the small mention of that girl, what's her name… Giella Something-or-other (I'm too lazy to check :p ).
*Shout out to TealCrystalCat: I felt the need to give Silver a last name; that's just the first thing that came to mind. Let me know if you would like me to change it to something else! It's just that she has known parents, so she kinda needs a last name….
-Lucius Greystone, District 2-
A dim, gray light filters through the canopy of tree leaves above me, but most of the woods are still doused in darkness. The dirt floor is covered in sparse patterns of light.
I stuff my hands in my pockets to ward off the chill of the early morning as I weave through the trees down the familiar path I've wandered down countless of times. Even though I'm staring at the ground, my foot will still occasionally catch on roots or weeds, but I kick it free and keep trudging. The sharp smell of dew fills my nostrils as I try to clear my head, but so far I haven't really succeeded.
Absently, my fingers glance across the faint bruise on my cheek as my mind roams to Giella Sunnders. I never would have guessed she had such a good backhand. Course, it should never have gotten to the point where I had to personally experience it. That was a bit of a mess up, and I wish I had gotten the chance to apologize to her at the party. Sam had shoved only one drink down my throat, and look at the mess that got us into. Brick hadn't been there to tell us to stop, so we kept going. Sam drank even more. I quit after just that one, but it didn't make any difference, we went too far anyway.
We really need to learn how to stop. And Brick will kick our [butts] about the whole incident for sure when he finds out.
With a sigh, I lean against a tree and turn my head up. The sky's a lighter blue now and the sun is slightly higher, a cue for me to get back to the house and prepare for the reapings. I'm volunteering, after all.
-Silver Kriss, District 2-
"You know, I've always wondered if there is such a thing as too much silver."
Ash is sprawled out on the couch, examining me with narrowed eyes as I enter the living room.
"Then you walk in," she continues, "and I remember that there is." Her expression is humorous, and I playfully shove her arm as I slump down in the small available space left on the couch.
"I disagree, Ash," I say, smiling.
She pushes herself up to make more room for me and raises her eyebrows. "Sure you do, but, honey, trust me. You are completely bleached of any color whatsoever."
I just shrug in response. What can I say? I like the color silver.
Just then, Fern walks in with a brush going through her dark hair, eyelids barely managing to stay up. Not even bothering to ask for a seat, she sinks down with her back resting against the couch, sitting on the floor.
"Why, twin, doesn't somebody look lovely!"
Fern doesn't even bother to glance up at Ash. "You better be referring to Silver."
"Nope, I was referring to that nest sitting on top of your head that you call hair. You know, if you're wanting to support bird rights or whatever, you really should go for—"
"Anybody know what's for breakfast?" I ask, cutting off the well-known sisters' banter that was sure to follow Ash's comment.
The reply is instantaneous. "Rose is making it," Fern and Ash say simultaneously, followed by, "Jinx!" from Fern with a smug look.
Before Ash gets the chance to make any sort of comeback, Rose calls from the kitchen, "Breakfast, come and get it!"
Without hesitation, we all go and get it. Rose doesn't like to be kept waiting.
The whole time we're at the kitchen table, Fern and Ash are bickering about stuff that, well, sisters do bicker about. They're twins, both sixteen, my age. Rose is also their sister, but she does everything around the house just like a mother would. The three of them are my half sisters.
See, my mother had been a merchant, and I would have grown up with her and probably never would have met Rose, Fern, or Ash if she hadn't died giving birth to me. But she did, so I was sent to live with my dad and his family. I can't say I'm glad that my mom died because that's not true. I miss her, miss not ever getting to know her. But I am glad I moved here, too, and met everyone. They're some of my best friends, and I love them. I mean, they're my family.
-Lucius Greystone, District 2-
When I get back home, the house is fairly quiet, everyone going about their own business. I go back to the bathroom and undress, tossing my clothes in a pile, and step into the shower. My family is pretty well off and can afford some delicacies such as this. We aren't the richest, but we sure do a lot better than a good amount of people in the districts.
After I've dressed for the reaping in a none-too-extravagant gray v-neck and jeans and quickly towel-dried my light blonde hair, I grab an apple from the kitchen and shout a brief goodbye to the rest of the house. By the time I make it to the front door, I hear another door open to my left.
"Leaving already?"
It's Sorensie. I face her. "What's it look like I'm doing?" I take a bite out of my apple.
Sorensie just raises one of her eyebrows and clucks her tongue. Her hair is swiped into a clip to the side, spilling over one shoulder in thick, red curls. She's wearing a frilly, cream-colored dress, and, with her two-inch heels, the top of her head almost reaches my shoulders. "Well, I'm going with you," she announces. Skipping past me, she opens the door and heads outside. Sorensie glances back at me, still standing in the doorway, and beckons for me to follow.
With an exasperated shake of my head, I trek on after her.
After a few minutes of walking, silent besides my chewing, Sorensie looks up at me. "So, Luc, was the party fun?" she begins, nonchalantly.
I blink at her and swallow. "You know about that?"
"Oh, please." She smirks. "Of course I know about it. Lucky for you, Mom and Dad's bedroom is quite a bit farther from your room than mine is, so I'm the only one who knows."
I exhale. "Thank God. Mom would freak if she found out I snuck out."
Sorensie full on smiles. I can't say it's a particularly nice smile.
"Believe me, I know. So I'm not planning on telling her or Dad."
We go several more steps without a word, and then Sorensie sighs.
My eyes narrow in concern. "What's up?"
She chuckles blandly. "Just the reapings." She rolls her eyes, and I understand what she means.
My father is a big supporter of the Capitol and the Games, and Mom and I both seem to kind of follow in his footsteps. But not Sorensie. She's always been a bit more sensitive and has repeatedly expressed her feelings about the Games when we're at the house. Right now though, she can't say anything bad about them. Faithful Peacekeepers and cameras could be hiding anywhere, and Lord knows what would be done if anyone spoke out against the Capitol.
Taking a deep breath, Sorensie continues, "I just think it's going to be hard to watch you be in the Games. But I know you'll be great!" she adds on a cheerier note. Her eyes are full of confidence as she watches me. "You're amazing in training, and you'll be the one to come back home. I know it."
I just nod in response, not sure how to react to her blatant certainty in me winning.
"Now, you probably don't want to hear a ton of that, though," she says, laughing. "But I know what I want to hear about. That party! You never told me how it was."
The rest of the way to the square, I tell her all about last night. She giggles and gasps at the appropriate times. She even scolds me when I tell her about Giella, but I don't mind. That's how it's always been between us. We tell each other everything and give advice. We're not afraid to tell the other they made a stupid move — and that's exactly what Sorensie tells me when we enter the square. I nod. I'm aware enough to know I made a stupid move.
A low voice comes from behind, startling us. "What did Luc do that was stupid?"
Before I get the chance to think up with an answer, Sorensie turns and says, "The usual, Brick."
Brick huffs. "'Course."
The three of us stand awkwardly for a moment, and then Sorensie speaks up. "Well, if you guys don't mind, I'm just going to go head over to the fourteens' section now."
Brick and I nod absentmindedly, and she skips away, waving at a few guys she passes.
"Where's Sam?" I ask Brick as we make our way to the eighteens. A brunette is trying to catch my eye, and I gaze at her as I take another bite of my apple. She waves her fingers at me.
"Sam's not here yet. My guess is he drank last night?" Brick says gruffly.
A quick, humorless laugh escapes me, and I turn my attention back to him. "Even more than usual."
"Well than I wouldn't expect him to try too hard to get here on time."
-Silver Kriss, District 2-
These heels are absolutely killing my feet. Suppressing the urge to just rip the shoes off and go barefoot, I trot up to my friends waiting in the square, waving.
Kiara immediately breaks from the group to give me a hug. "What's up, girl?" she asks with a smile, but her eyes tell me she isn't as happy as she's trying to make herself out to be. The reapings tend to have that effect on most people, I've come to notice.
"The reapings," I reply with a slight frown. Seems the reapings have the same affect on me, too.
Kevin holds up his hand, and I give him a high five. He and Kiara I met once when I was mining. Since then, we've kept each other company in the gem mines while we work and have become good friends.
Chris is also there, and I walk over to him and grab his hand. "Hello there," I say to him, looking up at him through my eyelashes.
"Hello," he says, bending down to kiss my forehead. When his head pulls back up, he surveys me. "Don't you look beautiful."
"Really?" Relief floods through me. "I was worried 'cause Ash told me I was wearing too much silver, so she gave me these shoes to give me some color, but I thought the bright pink was just too much and—"
"Hey, hey, hey, don't panic! You look great no matter what you wear." Chris's expression is sincere, and I relax. If he thinks I look fine, I look fine. But I still hate the shoes.
We talk for a little bit. Fern and Ash came to join us, and we all joke around, trying to lighten the mood. At one point, Kiara completely freaks out about being drawn, her or any one of us. We all try to reassure her, and I tell Kiara that it isn't going to happen. We live in District 2, after all. Someone is bound to volunteer no matter who is chosen, so there is no reason to worry. There are plenty of people worried enough about their reputation to volunteer for the attention, or people who have been training for the Games all of their lives. So the chance is one in a million of being drawn and then actually going to the Games. She eventually settles down.
Eventually, Chris has to leave to go to the group of seventeen-year-olds. We break away from the others to talk privately.
The two of us stand there, looking at each other, unsure of what to say. I rest my forehead against Chris's chest and then whisper, "You can't get chosen."
I pull my head back to look him in the eye. "Promise me you won't be picked."
Chris presses his lips together for a moment, sad humor in his eyes. "Promise."
I know that Chris has no control over whether or not his name is drawn, but it feels better just to hear him promise me that. It makes it feel like there is actually a good chance he won't be drawn.
We kiss briefly, and then he's gone to go to his section. Kiara, Kevin, Fern, and Ash already left for the sixteens, and I somberly follow. I really dislike these reapings.
A tap on my shoulder sends me jumping practically a foot in the air. I spin around. "Wha—"
Two people, a dark haired girl and a blonde one, are standing there, hands on hips, smirks decorating their faces.
"Clare, is this the girl who's dating your twin?" scoffs the blonde girl.
The other replies, "Yup, I'm pretty sure this is the lucky girl."
They give me a once over, and I bite my lip. I don't know why they've never seemed to like me. What have I ever done to them? "Oh, hi, Clare. Hi Glass. Yes, I am the her." I try to keep any venom I feel out of my voice. I don't want to give them a reason to hate me more than they already seem to.
Clare's mouth twitches. "It's good you realize what a blessing Chris is in your bland life. Maybe you're not as big of an idiot as I thought."
I purse my lips.
"So," Clare continues, "you're volunteering today, right?"
There's no way to keep the surprise off of my face. My mouth opens slightly. What are they talking about?
Glass is the first to respond to my stunned expression. "Wait, so you're not? Clare, I don't think Silver is volunteering."
Clare looks at Glass. "I don't think she is either." She turns back to me. "That's not good."
"What's not good?" The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.
"You're not volunteering. Oh well." Clare stares at me with hard eyes. "You know, if you really want to break with him, you can just do it directly and tell him that."
I'm stunned and, frankly, pretty offended. They think I want to break up with Chris?
"I have no idea what you're talking about!" I cry.
Clare throws her hands out, palms out as though she was stopping traffic. "Please. I know you know that Chris wants you to volunteer, but you're just too chicken to do it. You don't have to get all defensive about it, it's completely understandable."
"I still don't get it," I say. "Chris wants me to volunteer?"
Clare smirks. "Yes, that's what I just said. Of course," she adds, "he probably hasn't worked up the nerve to tell you that directly. But believe me, he's told me plenty of times about how he thinks it would be so brave and hot for a girl to volunteer."
All I can do is stare incredulously at her. Chris wants me to volunteer?
"But if I were you, I wouldn't dare," continues Clare. "It's not worth risk."
Throughout Clare's entire speech, Glass just stands with her arms crossed and hip kicked out to one side, nodding for emphasis. Now she pulls her arms down and puts one over Clare's shoulders. "Come on, Clare," she sneers. "I'm sure Silver has better things to be doing… like finding a new boyfriend."
And they stomp off, leaving me openmouthed and completely torn.
In a bitter haze, I go over the sixteens and find everyone else. They are deep in conversation, and I just nod and mutter an occasional, "Yeah," when the time seems right.
My mind is elsewhere, trying to sort out what just happened. I still can't believe it. Chris wants me to volunteer. For the Hunger Games. That's crazy! Insane! I just talked to him a few minutes ago, and he seemed just as worried as I was that one of us would be forced into the Games… didn't he? I think back to our brief discussion. I had made him swear that he wouldn't be in the Games. But he never said anything about how he hoped I wouldn't be….
Oh no.
When the escort — I don't know what exactly her name is, this is her first year in District 2 — walks up to the microphone after the mayor gave his speech, I still can't focus. It's not until she pulls a slip of paper from the girls' reaping ball that I comprehend what she's saying.
Before she even finishes reading out the name, "Natala Hersh," my feet move of their own accord, fighting their way through the crowd around me.
"I volunteer!"
It takes me a second to realize that I was the one who shouted.
My brain doesn't seem to be processing much right now.
I distantly hear gasps from my friends, and I'm pretty sure someone even starts to cry, but I don't turn around to confirm. I just keep moving forward until I'm on the stage standing next to the escort.
"I- I'm Silver Kriss, and I volunteer," I manage to tell the escort when she looks at me questioningly.
I wonder if she can see the alarm in my eyes at my own words.
The world blurs as the escort moves to the guys' reaping ball, and my head feels unusually heavy. I wonder if I'm about to faint. I've never fainted before, and I wonder if this is what it feels like right before everything goes black.
Momentarily forgetting about everyone else, I close my eyes and focus on breathing. The back of my throat starts to burn, and I try to ignore it. When I open my eyes back up, my head feels normal again, but a single tear leaks down my face.
-Lucius Greystone, District 2-
"I volunteer as the male tribute!" I yell.
There's a pause, and then the new escort, Rimia Brooks, drops the slip of paper she had just been about to read off of back into the ball.
I confidently stride up the steps to the stage. Then I stop next to Rimia; I hold out my hand and give her my best smile.
She blinks a few times, and then beams back, shaking my hand. When she turns back to the microphone, she sounds a little bewildered. "We have our male Vict— I mean, tribute," she stammers. Shaking her head slightly, she hands the microphone over to me to give my name.
"Lucius Greystone," I say into the mike. I find a random girl standing amongst the seventeens, a girl I've never met in my life. "But you can call me Luc," I tell her and wink.
I don't pay any more attention to her, but I'm pretty sure she blushes beet red and giggles. The poor, deluded girl.
I hand the mike back over to Rimia and let her finish the little spiel that she ends every reaping ceremony with. Then I shake hands with Silver, the female tribute. She's pretty attractive, I would say, with a nice body and round, pale blue eyes, though now they are full of tears. The main downfall, though, is the amount of silver on her. As if her name wasn't enough, she has long, silver hair and is wearing a silver dress. Between Silver and Rimia — who seems to be very fond of glitter as well as the color silver — even my gray tee is a relief.
After one final goodbye to District 2 and the cameras, Rimia tells us it's time for the goodbyes, and then the Peacekeepers lead us away. A few people clap, but mostly scurries of feet follow her words.
Amidst the noise, I think I might have heard a girl yell, "I love you, Luc!"
But I can't be sure.
I toss my apple core into a nearby trash bin on my way into the Justice Building.
Please let me know what you thought in a review! If you spot any mistakes or anything at all, tell me, and I'll go fix it, I promise. So tell me! Come on, you know you want to...
Reviews make my day! :D
-Tasting Raindrops-