Artemis Wolker
A/N: I have a few things to say…
First, I occasionally forget to include the line breaks in the chapters. I'll fix them eventually, but they're still readable.
Next, I forgot Tamerlane's trivia bit. My original plan for him was to be… suicidal, nearly killing himself the night before the Reapings… 0_0
Lastly, to my latest reviewers:
Aranwen: Thanks for the compliments! I'm glad that you pointed out that I'm not favoring anyone. I'm trying to keep it so, up until the actual duration of the Games, you all will have barely any idea of the Bloodbaths, front-runners, etc. I'm going for the shock factor…
Jamesfly: Thanks for the review! It's cool to hear that you're pursuing to learn a new language! I only speak fluent English, but I know some Chinese. Ni hao! Wo shi Mei Guo Ren! (Hello! I am an American!)
Hope that you all are enjoying the story so far! Now, let's get to Artemis! (Sorry for the delay, by the way. I've been busy with schoolwork. :/
The arrows fly, target after target, bullseye after bullseye. The sounds of suction of arrow into foam were music to her ears. Drawing her last arrow, Artemis brushed a loose strand of coffee bean-colored hair back into the small crevasse separating her ear and head, and pulled back. Her hands clenched the smooth, black metal of the bow, but not hard enough to make her shake.
She breathed out of her mouth, lips shaped in a circle. Relaxing her muscles, she aimed for the cherry-red dot at the center of the multi-colored target. With a sudden jerk, she let the arrow fly. It cut through the air, making a whisping sound, and plunged directly into the target, wiggling at the end from the sudden stop of motion.
Nodding in pleasure, she strung the bow, along with her matching quiver, on two hooks hanging from a wooden pole.
This was the daily process. Every day, Artemis spent an hour practicing archery in her private training room, which used to be the garage of the house. It was her parents' biggest investment, considering the Wolker family's lack of funds, but they knew it would eventually pay off.
They had done a good job with the room. Dark gray drywall, a black-tile floor with white edges, and five high-quality, sturdy, reusable archery targets. It was all that a Career-in-training could ask for.
And now, the money and time put into the room had been worth it. Artemis had taken her archery skills to the Career selection tournament, and had won. She wasn't too thrilled about who she had been paired up with, but there was nothing she could do about it.
The door behind Artemis opened, and her brother, Jefferson, entered. He had the same, rich brown hair as his sister, but his light gray eyes contradicted Artemis's deep green irises. He stood a few inches taller than Artemis, and he was about 18 months senior to her. He scanned the punctured targets, eyes widening. He turned to his sister.
"Nice work, sis," he complimented.
Artemis grinned. "Thanks."
"Your uncle's get-together will be starting soon, by the way."
"When is it?"
"Tonight at nine, two hours from now. Make sure that you get ready soon."
Artemis nodded as her brother left the room, and headed to her room to get changed. The dress that she had "chosen," a navy-blue silk one-piece that ended just below her knees, was laid out on the red and white plaid quilt of her bed. A pair of white heels stood at the foot of the bed.
Artemis released an exasperated groan. Dressing up was not her forte. Shutting the brown cotton drapes of her bedroom, she stripped herself of her outerwear and replaced the comfortable black shirt and sweatpants with the dress. The silk tickled and stuck to her skin, and her feet wiggled in unbalance from the two-inch heels, not to mention the strain on her feet from the unnatural angle.
There was only one mirror in the house; her mother's. It was a long tall mirror, framed in cherry wood that sat in the corner of her parents' bedroom. Artemis studied her formal appearance. She looked more out of place in her outfit than a vegetarian in District Ten. Her lean, toned figure didn't complement the dress, which was obviously made for a more figured woman, and her messy hair spread all over her head and scalp. Surely, if she were from One, she would've been upset, but Artemis didn't care. As much as she'd rather be practicing archery or in the woods, preferably in more comfortable clothing, she had to look okay for the get-together.
She took a hairbrush to her thin hair, styling it into a neat ponytail, and attempted to apply her mother's mascara to her eyelashes. The process went to hell quickly, with clumps of dust forming around her eyelids, so she gave up, using a cloth to remove the residue.
Taking another look at herself, she had to admit that she looked decent. For a final touch, she put on her earrings, which she had made in a forgery class with her friend, Cheyenne, back in the simpler days of elementary school. They consisted of three black, metal rings interwoven into each other. Heavy, but mesmerizing, she inserted them into the small incisions in her earlobes.
By now, it was 8:00 P.M. Time to go.
One of Two's few generous gestures to its citizens is the pre-Reaping parties. Each selected Career is allowed one party, all funds paid for by the Capitol. Artemis's uncle, Skipper, had truly gone all-out of celebrate his niece's selection. All along the tables surrounding the stone pavilion were flowers of an elaborate spectrum of colors, and a wide range of food, mostly hors d'oeuvres, but also a few mouth-watering entrees, such as stuffed turkey and glazed pork, along with a few unrecognizable delicacies of strange sizes, colors, and shapes.
Nearly a hundred people; friends, family, and other loved-ones of the Wolker family, were attending the party. They engaged in conversation, laughing at jokes, and tearing-up from past memories. Most were dressed up in whatever formal attire they owned. Some carried thin, tall glasses of golden champagne.
Artemis, to her family's dismay, was one of the last people to show up. The walk to the pavilion at the bottom of the District Two mountains was a short one.
Upon showing up, eyes turned to study her. She was almost immediately flooded by friends and family, congratulating Artemis on her achievement. The collection of voices frightened Artemis, not used to this much attention. She did her best to keep her composure, thanking her loved ones and smiling the most realistic smile she could put up in the stressful situation.
Keep calm, Artemis thought, worried. You'll be okay in a few minutes.
But the faces never took their eyes off her.
"Nice job, Artemis!" congratulated her cousin, Raquel.
"You need to teach me how to shoot like that!" exclaimed a friend named Lawson.
Everyone treated Artemis like a celebrity, but she didn't want to feel like that.
Slowly, she walked to the bathroom, the group of people, slowly dwindling, followed.
"Excuse me for a moment," she muttered to the fifteen people who hadn't left. She swung open the door to the ladies' room and stepped inside, heading towards a stall.
Artemis had no urge to use the bathroom, but did need a few moments to herself. She stepped into a stall and sat on the toilet seat, head in hands, and elbows on knees.
"This is only temporary…right?" Artemis muttered to herself.
Throughout her whole life, Artemis's family had encouraged fame and self-promotion, as they felt that it would help promote eligible Careers to the District. Her parents, Athena and Harrison, had both been "pedestaled," as Artemis called, by their parents, shown to the District as eligible Careers. Unfortunately, for them, neither of them possessed any true Career talents, so they were never chosen as the tributes form Two. The hunger for fame rubbed off onto her parents, which, when they married, fueled their ambition to have a child in the Games. Jefferson, fortunately, never had to worry about being "pedestaled." He developed ADHD at an early stage in his life, which convinced his parents that his chances of becoming a Career were little to nothing.
Ironically, the disorder barely affected Jefferson throughout the years. He just forgot things easily.
Artemis, on the other hand, never developed a disorder or disease, so she became the main focus of the family, which, unfortunately, cast Jefferson aside. She learned archery at the age of eight, and was given weapons to practice with at a very young age. Due to the pressures of intense training, Artemis never really developed much of a social life. Cheyenne, and another girl named Delia, were her only close friends. Yet, at the same time, she was respected by her classmates as a skilled archer.
Archery was bitter-sweet for her. She liked having the talent, but hated the reputation that came with it.
And the more that she thought about it, the more she regretted becoming a Career.
Several minutes later, Artemis emerged from the bathroom, happy to see no one looking for her. Spotting Cheyenne, wearing a white cocktail dress, she followed her friend over to the buffet table.
Cheyenne, noticing Artemis, turned around, making her elbow-length, thin, tree-bark brown hair swoop around her abdomen. Her olive, sparkling eyes gleamed in the moonlight.
"Where have you been?" Cheyenne asked, half-smiling.
"I just got here," Artemis lied. Her eyes were drawn to Cheyenne's right hand, holding a small glass of champagne. Artemis was taken aback. Cheyenne, with the exception of wanting to be a Career, was a wholesome girl. Surely, she didn't drink?
"Y- you drink?" Artemis questioned, eyebrows raised.
"Only on special occasions," Cheyenne admitted slyly. As she talked, she gently poured Artemis a glass, handing it to her.
Artemis stared at the rim of the glass. Was this right?
Then again, she'd be in the arena within a few days, possibly killing teens her age.
She took a small sip of champagne. The sweet, almost lemony taste surprised her, as she expected a sour, tart, alcoholic taste. She took another sip, slightly larger.
"So, what do you think?" Cheyenne asked, already knowing the answer from Artemis's facial expression.
"It's good," Artemis admitted, lightly nodding. "Like apple cider, but lemony."
"Just make sure not to drink too much," Cheyenne explained. She gestured to a man a few yards away, stumbling with every couple steps he took, leaning on the buffet table, and tugging on the white, linen tablecloth.
"Who's that?" Artemis asked, confused.
Cheyenne shrugged. "No clue." She walked away, meeting up with a brown-haired teenage boy roughly her age.
Artemis took another sip of her drink, and decided to find Jefferson. Searching through the crowds, she found him sitting down with two of his friends; Lyle and Edgar. Jefferson wore a brown sports coat, red shirt, and black pants. While Lyle and Edgar talked, seeming happy and entertained, Jefferson was pale, not much color on his face. He held his hands together and rested his chin on his knuckles.
Artemis pulled out a metal folding chair and sat next to him. Her eyes were widened with sympathy, even though she didn't know what was wrong.
"What's the matter?" she muttered to him.
He slowly turned his head towards her, eyes narrowing in disgust. "Leave me alone," he snarled lightly, promptly standing up and quickly walking away.
"Jefferson!" she exclaimed, nearly throwing her chair back in the process of getting up. She followed him, but he noticed. He spun around and pushed her back by her shoulders. The force propelled her back a couple feet, and she recoiled, briefly afraid of her older brother.
"You heard me!" he snapped, and tromped away, hands in pockets.
"Jefferson…" she muttered to herself, slowly, confused. Jefferson was always so happy and upbeat. This was out of character for him.
But the party didn't wait for Jefferson and Artemis, and soon, Artemis was separated from Jefferson, stuck making small-talk to family, while Jefferson was nowhere in sight.
When Artemis woke up the next morning, it was as if someone had put a cloud of smog around her head. Her vision was weak, with a watery blur, and a high, faint pitch rung in her ears, like a hearing-test frequency.
Groggily, she made her way out of bed, trying to piece together last night. How many glasses of champagne did she have? Two? Three? Considering her loose train of thought, probably more. What happened to Jefferson? Showed up at home around the same time Artemis did, at 3 in the morning. He didn't say a word.
The head rush she received made her head throb, so, sneaking into her parent's room, she grabbed a plastic, mustard-yellow vial of powdery, cylindrical, white pills. Hangover pills. Popping one into her mouth, she headed to the bathroom sink and sipped some tap-water, swallowing the pill with the refreshing, slightly metallic liquid.
The headache slowly ebbed away, and Artemis stepped into the shower, lathering herself in soap to get rid of any dirt or grime in her skin and hair. The hot water and steam awakened her from her buzzed state. On other days, Artemis would've probably felt a little guilty about her indulgence; but now that she was going into the Games, she knew that her decisions in Two would never stand to be as detrimental as they usually would be.
After drying herself off with a cotton towel, she slipped into her Reaping outfit, a mocha-brown dress that extended to her heels, protruding at the hips and end with looser fabric to make her seem more elegant. Even Artemis, who had no real passion for personal appearance, had to admit that she looked nice in it.
Downstairs, the Wolker family was having breakfast; sliced ham and toast.
Harrison cut himself a piece of brownish-pink ham, placing it behind his teeth, on his tongue, and chewed. "Morning, Artemis," he greeted, a giddy tone in his voice, muffled from the food in his mouth.
Artemis nodded, looking at Jefferson. Her looked like he hadn't slept soundly last night. His lower eyelids, and the skin around them, were a faint, light, gray, and his short brown hair was tussled and scattered across his scalp. He glared at her for a moment, and then seemed to decide that his breakfast was more important than her, and went back to buttering his toast.
She spent the next 45 minutes anxiously waiting for Jefferson to finish dressing up for the Reaping. When he finally came out of his bedroom, dressed in a white tuxedo, she followed him to the porch, with her parents. They took a moment to study the two teenagers.
Tears formed in Athena's eyes.
"My baby's all grown up…" she whimpered in joy, embracing Artemis. She kissed both of her cheeks. Harrison did the same, but, out of the corner of her eye, Artemis spotted Jefferson heading to the Justice Building, a mere few blocks away from their house.
"Come on," she muttered, chasing after her brother, parents trailing.
Artemis had to admit, she was excited for the Reaping. Even though she knew that the publicity would be a little concerning, she was doing her family proud. Then again… She stopped. Focus on the positives! She told herself.
Upon reaching the Justice Building, Artemis separated from her family, joined the Female, 15 section. She spotted Delia and Cheyenne within the group, smiling as a greeting to her. She returned the gesture and joined the others.
"WAR… TERRIBLE WAR…" the propaganda film snarled in its monotone voice. Artemis studied the film. Every Reaping, she discovered something new about the film. Last year, she had realized that the District in rubble, with the mother and children, was District Six.
She contemplated the details, but could not find anything new within the scenes. She decided that it was probably the fact that her mind was on other things this year, like the actual Games.
After the Treaty of Treason, Serenity, the new escort, took the stage. Artemis knew what was to come.
Don't worry, she told herself. Just walk up there like you've already won…
"Atlas Topazine and Artemis Wolker!" Serenity announced.
Cheyenne and Delia smiled at her with pride, and she shyly smiled, looking away. She pushed through the crowd to get to the aisle, and walked to the stage. She reached Serenity the same time Atlas did. She decided not to acknowledge her district partner, whom she already knew would be a powerhouse killer. To her, he was unstable. No loyalty, just bloodlust. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw him glaring at her like a meal.
Maybe the Reaped ones will be useful.
It was hard to tell. Both of the non-volunteers were average in size and body type. They looked able, but only time would tell.
Cheyenne and Delia were both ecstatic for their friend's opportunity in the Games. Their goodbyes were quick and giddy, both guaranteeing Artemis that she would return, and when she did, they would celebrate.
After the two excited girls left, Harrison and Athena entered, expressing the same happy look on their faces.
Harrison took Athena in his arms and tilted her back and forth, lightly laughing in excitement.
"You're going to make us proud, Artemis," Athena sighed, happily. "I just know it!"
They left abruptly. Even though they were proud of her, Artemis wished they had stayed for a bit longer. She was left wanting more love and affection from her parents. They had left her for the Capitol without batting an eye.
She anxiously waited for Jefferson, but he didn't show up for a long time. Eventually, the Peacekeeper in the room asked her to board the train, but she stopped him, explaining that she was waiting for someone else.
The minutes passed by, and Artemis thought about many things; Jefferson, Cheyenne, Delia, her parents, the other tributes…
She looked up at the clock. 11:55 PM. Five minutes until departure, and not a single sign of Jefferson.
Making up her mind, Artemis sighed. "Let's go." She stood up, and the Peacekeeper began to direct her into the train. As the doors of the train slammed shut, the door of the Goodbye room swung open, smashing against the wooden wall. Jefferson stood in the doorway, tears in his eyes. His chest heaved, showing that he was out of breath, and gasping for air.
"Artemis…" he mouthed, his lips quivering. He pressed his hand up to the glass panel of the train door, looking into her eyes. "I'm sorry… I just couldn't stand that you were leaving…"
Artemis felt water accumulating around her eyes. It came to her that this could be her final moments with her beloved brother. What would happen to him while she was gone, now that he was useless to the family, with no training?
At a loss for words, she muttered, "Do what you think is right… for you…"
"I love you…" Jefferson whimpered.
The tile floor of the train beneath Artemis's feet lurched, and the sound of released steam filled her ears. Jefferson's face slowly began to go out of sight.
Realizing what was happening, Jefferson ran back to the window, eyes red with tears.
"I love you too," Artemis sobbed, wiping her eyes.
The train picked up speed, but Jefferson kept running; running along the gray gravel path beside the train until he was out of breath, and could run no more. He put one hand on his knee, and the other in the air, as if he wanted to pull her back to him. Artemis stretched her neck out, trying to see him one last time.
Then, he was gone.
Next up: Hazel Donelly!